I wonder if his eyes light up like that...

I’m learning something it’s taken me years to even begin to grasp from people I’ve only just met…




A few weeks back I was standing in the lobby at church having a conversation with my worship leaders Juan and Debbie, and at one point when Bro Juan mentioned his daughter Sydney coming to visit him in a few weeks from Maryland (the irony! And there’s a lot more than just that) I didn’t notice at very first, but I realized that when he started talking about her, his face lit up and his entire mood seemed to change. After pondering this reaction for a while when I had thought about it later, I wondered if my dad did the same thing when he talked about me...


I’ve lived in Tennessee with my mom pretty much my entire life except short periods of time on and off in Baltimore...

The truth is that sometimes I wonder what things would be like if they were… different. What would things be like if my dad had more time with me?

I really love him. And I miss him… sometimes it’s hard for many people in my family to understand that. They ask me, “Why do you even want to go see him? If he cared about you then he would come and see you his self and he wouldn’t still be living in Maryland and he’d spend more time with you and this and that and that….” If only they even realized what they had just said.
He didn’t get to see my first day of Kindergarten and he didn’t see me when I first started riding a bike without training wheels… He didn’t get to see my first day of high school… Sometimes it’s completely awkward, because although we see eachother and spend time doing things it’s almost like he doesn’t know me. He watches me carefully when I’m doing something and asks “Where did you get that from?” or “Is that what you like?” It’s almost as if we’re finally getting to know eachother over sixteen years. ..
But It’s difficult to make up for a year in thirty days.
He doesn’t want me to live with him because he’s smack dead in the middle of the ghetto, for one. He knows I love it here and that Tennessee is my home… although I’m from Baltimore I can’t necessarily call it home. When I go there I feel out of place. Foreign. Like I know of the land but that it’s not my own, not my home, and he knows it in his heart. He wants me to be happy, and I want him to be happy. Sometimes it’s a struggle, because in order for one of us to be happy the other has to sacrifice. He knows I would be miserable if I had to live in the city, and I know it’s hurting him hardly getting to see me. I can’t hit rewind. And I can’t buy time…
But I can hold memories and make more…
A love that a father has for his daughter is deep and fierce. It’s protective; so natural would a dad lunge for anything that would be of any potential threat to his daughter. A dad could be anywhere, but when he hears his daughter’s voice his expression softens and suddenly she’s his whole world. Even after she’s grown and moved out when she calls he jumps to answer the phone. When she says she doesn’t want him anymore, he returns her harsh words with persistent, unshakeable love… How much deeper is the father’s love than this?

I wonder if his face lights up when he thinks about me…