June 19, 2011

to my Dad

I don't think I've shared this story with anyone but a couple of really close friends. I would like to share it with my family today, on Father's Day.

As we know, three years ago I got dumped by a man I loved. It. Was. Awful.

I honestly don't remember much about that summer except that it was both the worst and best few months of my life. The worst because everything was so empty. The best because I relied on my awesome family to keep me going every day.

For the few weeks or so after it happened I pretty much just stayed in my room and cried. All day. Every day. I mean, why not, right?

The day after it happened, I was standing in the kitchen. My dad came up next to me and put his arm around me and said something like "It's okay, Elizabeth." Of course I burst into tears and went into my room.

The next day he and my mom came home with some pastrami sandwiches. I hadn't eaten anything (turns out I actually was clinically anorexic that summer) so my dad offered me half a sandwich. Again, more crying and going to my room. But he didn't give up! He knocked on my bedroom door a few minutes later with the sandwich on a plate. He said it would make me feel better.

I'm sharing this because I will never forget seeing how my Dad hurt for me and his persistence in trying to help me even though I was an emotional mess of estrogen and depression. (Everything made me cry, so me crying was not so much an adverse reaction as it was a response to a supportive arm being extended). I felt so loved and was so grateful to have a father who had my back.

I'll never forget it. Love ya Dad!

1 comment:

The Queen said...

That's a nice story. Dad is so great.