by Jane Coryell

Created on: October 25, 2008

You're gone now and oh so far away, but in my life, you always were. You appeared to me mostly in pictures, rarely seen in real life form. While you were just a man, I built you up to be so much more. In my dreams you were my hero and the wonderful father I always thought you could be. I wanted a "daddy" and I kept thinking at some point you would fill that role, that you would appear in my life one day and be everything I wanted you to be. But you didn't show up. It was like being at the party, but never being asked to dance.

As a young girl, I imagined how it would have been, had you not left us, for whatever reason. I pictured you as the victim to lessen my own pain. Your abandonment was hard on a kid, but I tried to reason it, to shift the blame. I lifted you to heroe proportions in my mind. You were the perfect father, yes the daddy that loved his little girl. The one whose lap I could crawl into when I needed a hug, the one who would protect me and make me feel safe at night. Just like the daddy's on the television shows. A gentle and good father.

Then as a teenager, I stood at your hospital bedside, finally able to meet my hero. I remember how quicly my world was shattered, how suddenly the fairy tale came to an end. I was at such a difficult crossroads in my life and you were not able to help me. You weren't there to catch me when I fell. You weren't the daddy I searched for all those years.

And then came my wedding day, one last chance, still dreaming. Older now, maybe I was wrong and misunderstood. And so, the letter went out. The letter that contained so much hope. Hope for one thing, just one of many that a father could do, walk his daughter down the aisle. While you would like to, you were so sorry you could not, hoping I would understand. Just one more disappointment, one more hope crushed.

I saw you one final time, after the birth of my children. You came into town and I met you at your hotel, still making you someone you were not, still looking for my daddy. But all I found was disappointment and shattered dreams. I walked away, alone, still needing your arms I so yearned for as a child and finally realizing they were never going to shelter me.

And when the time came, much too soon, I buried you. Before you knew your grandchildren or even me, I buried you. And now when I visit your grave, I call out to you, daddy, but you do not hear me. Even still, you do not hear me.

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