For most of my life Father's Day has passed with little notice. I steeled myself early on--in elementary school, in fact--to ignore the holiday and pretend it didn't exist. When pressed to work on school projects that would be "gifts for Daddy" I was always given an out. It never occurred to me to substitute a Grandfather or Uncle on that day; it was easier and less painful to just to ignore it.
My father, as most of you know, left me and my mother when I was fifteen months old. He re-enlisted in the army and went off to Vietnam. It seems like a rather dramatic way to get away from your family, but whatever. I grew up, as I've said before, accepting the fact that I have a "dad-sized" hole in my heart that will never be filled.
In the last week, I've woken up several times to find Charlie awake, staring at me and Tori. His face is so happy and relaxed; I haven't seen him like this since we first fell in love. He speaks softly to Tori, saying, "Hi, Doll! How are you?" and looking like the most proud daddy that ever existed.
Ten years ago, I made the decision that I wanted to have kids. I was sober and I was lucky enough to be married to a man that would not be like my father. I knew in my bones that no matter what happened, Charlie would always be there for his children. I never felt safe enough in any other relationship to contemplate actually raising a family; Charlie changed everything.
It wasn't easy; for years, if we had a big fight, I would tell him to leave. I knew he was going to leave, because that was what men did. But each time I'd tell him to go, he'd just look at me like I was crazy (cause I was) and say, "Gee, that seems a little dramatic."
Charlie managed to heal, in large part, the thing in me my father broke.
I know now, watching Charlie with Tori, that the reason we pushed so fucking hard to have her is so that I can watch his face shine with love for her. The last four years of pain and fear and rage and sorrow are melting away so quickly; my heart is healing faster than my incision.
Charlie is a miracle just as much as Tori is. He is my heart, my love, and now the father of my daughter. A daughter who will never have a dad-sized hole in her heart; my daughter is starting out her life learning that men can be kind, loving and gentle. I envy her. She's one lucky little girl.
Happy Father's Day, Charlie. I love you, and so does your daughter.
