Dear Dad

Dear Dad

Fathers day is here again already.  Another year has passed.  Another year where I wondered a little more about you.  This will be your 47th year as a father.  Do you ever wonder about me?  Do you ever wonder what happened to that little baby you created 48 years ago?

On the 11th June 1963 at 7.00 pm the life you created was finally born.  You had a daughter – me.   My mother was able to hold me for a few minutes before I was whisked away to the nursery for babies who were being given away.  My mother tells me I looked a little like her as a baby.  I’m not sure if I looked like you or your mother or your sister, but I’m sure I may have looked a little like someone in your family.

For the first 3 months of my life I was cared for by strangers.  I’m not sure who filled those months with cuddles for me.  I wonder if I was left to scream when I was hurting?  Did I whimper myself to sleep?  Did anyone cuddle me and sing soft lullabies with their lips resting gently on my head?  Did anyone pace the floor holding me upright to stop the pain of my colic?  Or was I left to cry it out?  Alone.

I often wonder about these first 3 months of my life.  Particularly when I had my own children.  Oh, yes that’s right, you have 2 grandsons.  They are teenagers now.    When my boys were first born they were cuddled endlessly.  They knew they were loved every second of their existence.  I sang to them.  I rocked them.  I held them.  I wonder if that period of not bonding with anyone causes any long term damage to a baby?  I don’t believe I ever bonded with the woman who adopted me.  I never recall having those warm loving feelings I feel for my children.  It just didn’t happen.  Perhaps that’s why, or perhaps that’s just me?

I grew up in Parkes, NSW.  I had a mother, a father and two younger sisters, one of them also adopted.  We were a family of sorts.  And I don’t mean “good sorts”.  I mean an odd assortment of people.  My life was a mixture of good and bad.   Let’s just say I didn’t have the father you would have wished for me.  If you could pick the worst type of person to give your little girl to, he was it.  Despite that, I did have many fond memories of growing up in the country.

I’m not angry at you or bitter about how my life was.  Life is how it is.  Without you making the decision you made I wouldn’t be where I am right now.  I love the person I have grown to become.  It has taken me a long time to do so, but I am happy with me.  Had you made a different decision that day you decided to leave town, I would definitely be someone else.  I would not have met the wonderful people who currently fill my life with joy.

There is only one thing about my life that I wish I could change.  You see, I’ve never known the love of a father or a father type figure.  I’ve longed for the security that a father gives his daughter.  I’ve longed to be hugged by a man who loves me unconditionally and would do anything to protect me.  I longed for a dad who would ensure that I was looked after by my boyfriends.  I’ve always wanted to be daddy’s little girl.   Sadly I never will be.  C’est la vie.

I hope you have had a nice Fathers Day and I hope that as you celebrated with your children, you had a tiny little thought for that little girl you created 48 years ago.  I’m sure you would be proud of me.

Your daughter.

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About Annieb25

A mum to 2 teenage boys, would be writer, thirsty for knowledge, Radio Solution solver on Radio 1116 4BC and so much more!!
This entry was posted in Family, Parenting and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

59 Responses to Dear Dad

  1. MsDovic says:

    Hey Annie, no chance of ever finding him?

    Fathers days must be days you want to toss in the basket as soon as they come around. I’m presuming of course.

    Much love to you my friend xxx

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thank you for the love xx Yes I could find him, but don’t really know if I want to go there. I’m still out to lunch on that one.

  2. sass says:

    Oh Annie.

    No words, just lots and lots of love.

    xxoo

  3. Jane says:

    I have no words, just tears.
    For you.
    For me.
    – for different reasons –
    For an empty day.
    Empty arms.
    and silent hearts.
    …not ours.

  4. BundyNelle says:

    Oh Annie, another well written blog. Thank you for awakening me to another angle of Fathers Day. I feel a sense of relief as I truly believed that I was the only one in this country that despises Fathers Day. My Dad died suddenly of a massive heartattack in 1990, just two weeks after my first wedding. I married a no hoper that I did love at the time but my father didn’t want his baby girl to marry. Always I wonder if I didn’t marry the nightmare I married, if my father would still be alive, and I will carry that guilt until the day I die. How I would kill for video footage of my father just to hear his voice or laugh again but – heavy sigh – he died before the age of digital cameras. Thank You for another well put together blog xxxx

    • Annieb25 says:

      I think there are quite a lot of us who get sad on Fathers Day. You can’t change the past lovely Janelle, I’m sure your dad is so happy for you now as he watches over his little girl. xxx

  5. MsKymOG says:

    Annie, you write so beautifully! I wish your father could read it and understand!

  6. Tracy says:

    Honey, he is missing out, bigtime! He may never know what a very fine woman he helped to bring into the world, and the real loss is his.

    Missing my Dad today also seems a little more poignant after reading this post – I reflect how lucky I am to have known him at all.

    Sadness for you, yes, that you’ve never had the pleasure of a fine father figure in your life. I send hugest hugs to the dear little girl I read behind those lines, still waiting for that love. I’ll happily share some of mine.

    xxx

    • Annieb25 says:

      Such lovely things to say Tracy. I also know that Fathers Day is possibly not your favourite day also. You already give me so much. Thank you. xx

  7. Jodi says:

    Such a beautiful post, Annie – you are a wonderful mother and person, and you’re so right, your father would be amazingly proud of you.

    x

  8. Maxabella says:

    People’s choices aren’t ours to judge, but sometimes they are theirs to regret. I imagine that he thinks of the difficult choice he made 48 years ago often. If he knew the elegance and depth of the woman that tiny baby would grow to become, he would be so very, very proud, Annie. x

    • Annieb25 says:

      That is a very powerful first line. I’ve not heard it before, but it is one I will never forget. Thank you so much for your beautiful comment. xx

  9. Milena says:

    Hi Anne I have been reading your blog for a while now and you write such honest and amazing blogs. Today’s blog is too moving. I could not read it to my husband without crying:(
    I have a father who is my natural father but in a lot of ways he is a stranger to me. I lived at home until I was 18 and no time can I remember getting any love, support and affection from him. And now as a grown woman he probably knows even less who I am and the person I am. Now that I am married to an amazing husband and the father of our son and daughter I can see how close a father should be to his daughter.
    Thank you for your honest blog.

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thank you for your comment. I’m sorry I stirred up so many emotions for you. I am so glad you have such an amazing husband and your children will have the father we both wanted. xx

  10. Denyse Whelan says:

    Dear Annie,
    I feel so lucky to have met you here..funny that sounds I know.
    To be “missing” the second most important link in your life is astounding.
    What social mores were “back then” …can’t explain away your pain either.
    Relationships are built from birth..you were on the “had to wait” line 😦 so sad.
    It is evident to me, though, your life that was made by two “unknowns” as parents,
    is a now a glimmering female example of of intelligence, humanity,sociability,love,nurturing MADE by Annie 🙂
    Hugs and Love,
    Denyse xx

    • Annieb25 says:

      Denyse you are such a beautiful lady. You always have a knack of making me feel light in my heart with your comments. Thank you. xx

  11. Fiona says:

    Annie, you write so beautifully from the heart….your father should be so very proud of you now..I hope you get to meet one day soon…xxx

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thank you lovely. I’m not sure if I want to meet him. Sometimes the wonder of it can be more sustaining than the reality. Hope that makes sense? xx

  12. Patrick says:

    My dad died at 51 because he was an alcoholic and a smoker. I used his mistakes for me to learn from as I’m sure you have too Annie.
    I know I can’t control the wrong decisions of others but i won’t let their wrong choices control me.
    I will also want to make sure that I won’t look back with regret on the way my family has been bought up by me. I’ll make mistakes but as long as I correct what I can and make amends where possible….then I think I will give it a good shake. All the best to you Annie and chin up for the future, I reckon you’ll give it a good shake too ! :):)

    • Annieb25 says:

      I think you are a fabulous father (if you are the Patrick I think you are). You are a wonderful person and a wonderful family man. I know your family is very proud of you. xx

  13. Linda says:

    Big hugs. He would definitely be proud. You’re a million shade of terrific. xo

  14. Oh Annie, I am sorry to read what seems to me a very sad post. I’d guess that your family history makes you even more appreciative of your own family now though, and the closeness you share with them. Although he’s made his fair share of mistakes, your post has made me appreciate my own Dad more. Thanks. Alison

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thanks Alison. It is a sad post, but it is just one day. I don’t feel sad about it everyday. No matter how much I think I won’t get sad on Fathers Day, I always do. Give your dad a big hug & tell him you love him. Parents all make mistakes – we didn’t get a rule book and parenting is damn tough. xx

  15. So sad Annie. I hope your Fathers’ Day was okay – it must be very difficult. Linda’s right when she says he’d be proud.

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thanks Al. It is always a sad day. I usually spend it alone because everyone is off celebrating with their dad. I prefer to be alone and reflect. Sometimes sadness and reflection is a good thing. I actually thought of you a lot yesterday – I was at the Brisbane Writers Festival for a little while and was chatting to the RWA, they were trying to tempt me into Romance Writing. Think I might just be a bit to angsty for that genre. xx

  16. Ali says:

    Oh Annie Tons of HUGS for you xxx
    Mwahh

  17. Richard E says:

    “Did anyone cuddle me and sing soft lullabies with their lips resting gently on my head? Did anyone pace the floor holding me upright to stop the pain of my colic? “

    I cannot believe you used this type of emotive description in your blog,
    I cannot believe you don’t realise the personal humanity in all people.
    Life is not a “Bowl-of-peaches-and-cream,” nor none of us who truly
    have the courage to move forward with the sacrifices made, do know,
    “what could have happened,” and but try to maintain the strength to let
    the new be “the new.”

    I had a friend, housemate who was born in May 1963, his mother loved
    him dearly, he was a good man with a good heart, he was taken approx. 11 yrs
    ago in a most overwhelming series of events. I pray he is resting now. I too
    was born in 1963, a trifle earlier, and too was adopted out after two weeks.
    I do not know my mother nor father of my origin this life; so far only as much as
    my mother was an English nurse and my Father an Austrian engineer.

    My adoptive parents are greatly devoted still to our family and I was
    most fortunate in being “taken” by them. And thank the good grace
    of my mother’s strength to “give me-up”, and my father
    for the seed. I too have a younger sister – adopted, and born brother;
    this time, to my adoptive parents.

    My life is an utter melange, currently, there is months of work around
    the house, an endless living-sitch’ conundrum, rotting teeth,
    corn walloped feet, and a continual attempt to comfort the the little
    graces of worlds I truly haven’t the foggiest due to the smokescreens,
    id montages, and the strangest sense that people are seemingly
    afraid to learn… and I have to put the bins out tonight.. 🙂

    But truly, your Dad, whichever one, would be proud of you
    as “actions do speak louder than words,” and by the sounds,
    I wouldn’t know how you fit your day in 24 hrs …? 🙂

    It is perhaps by the acknowledgment we perhaps are grateful
    if only by the fact we still be able to continue on with hopefully
    the good sense seen and a better goal in focus?

    But Happy Father’s Day to my Dear ol’ Fa’ers where’st they be.
    And thank-you for your candidacy.

    Richardy.

    • Annieb25 says:

      Um, thanks, I think. Perspectives are different depending on the type of adoptive family you have. If I was brought up in a loving family with good people, I may not have felt some of the angst I did & sometimes do. I’m really glad you had a good experience & I’m sorry to hear of your friend. I hope he is at peace too. x

  18. Shirley Gibney says:

    Hi Annie Wonderful and moving Having a natural father who failed me on the loving department(sex)was the only ‘love’ language I learned from my dad I can identify with your feelings Thankfully I found a faith that has been the anchor in my life Thank you for sharing your life Love Shirley

    • Annieb25 says:

      Beautiful Shirley. You are such a lovely lady and I’m so very glad that your faith has sustained you. Also you have a beautifully loving family of children that you have done a wonderful job raising. They are truly a credit to you. Thank you for reading my blog. xx

  19. I don’t usually get physically emotional from reading blog posts, but yours has really moved me. It’s the father/daughter relationship that gets me every time. I’m so incredibly sorry you never got to experience this, I really am. But as you say, you are who you are today because of the life you have lived.

    My dad and I share such a close bond, and we have always been known for this. It’s the kind of closeness that you see in sugary sweet movies, and the kind my friends wished they had with their own dads. Being the only girl I am still his little princess, even though I’m a grown woman with children of my own. Although it is only now that someone else is muscling in on my territory. She’s bewitched him, and has him wrapped around her little finger – my daughter, and his beautiful little granddaughter, Daisy.

    Big hugs to you, amazing woman xo

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thank you for sharing that. What a wonderful relationship to have. How beautiful that your dad can also have a bond with his grand daughter, the daughter of his princess. That warmed my heart. xxx

      • I just re-read my post and I hope I wasn’t insensitive to your feelings talking about my relationship with my dad – it wasn’t my intention at all. I know you know that, but just wanted to tell you anyway. I also should explain that my father had no loving childhood either (his mother died when he was a baby and his father showed no interest in his children), so he swore that it would be different with his own family – thus his exceptional skills as a loving and super attentive dad.

        I also can’t get those first 3 months of your life out of my head. As you know I practice attachment parenting (co-sleeping, breastfeeding on demand, babywearing etc) and an enormous part of that for me is always being there for your baby, particularly those early months. Of course I still practice AP and my kids are 1 and 3! But you know what? You too gave your boys the gift of AP. I know our parenting philosophies are extremely similar as we’ve talked at length about the sadness we feel at letting babies ‘cry it out’ – it goes against every fibre of our being. To me Annie, you are a shining example of what a loving, attentive, responsive mother should be. You should be proud of the woman you are, and the way you have raised your boys xo

  20. Hi Annie,

    Your thoughts are so poignant – and if your dad was able to read them, he’d be amazed at your emotional depth and warmth in spite of what you’ve had to grow through over the years. You ability to love and nurture your own kids is a testament to human resilience.

    As you know, I read all the time about the importance of solid emotional connections and skills for kids – and even though I know it’s crucial, and even though I know your early family life has had a deep effect on you – it gives me optimism to think that in spite of your ‘unsatisfactory’ (I know that’s a euphemism) childhood, you still matured into the gorgeous person that you are.

    Hugs to you.

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thanks Yvette. It means a lot to me for you to say that. Despite the downs, I really don’t look back with any bitterness. I have so many wonderful memories with friends & their families that the bad stuff from my own family often sits in the background, only coming out on days like Fathers & Mothers Day. xx

  21. Lucy says:

    Annie, your writing astounds me. I am crying a bucket load here.
    You are wonderful. Brave and strong.
    xx

  22. Bern Morley says:

    Lovely post Annie. You are amazing writer.

    Sucks doesn’t it that there is that void of the unknown. Did he know? Was he against the adoption? Did he want to create a family with your birth mother but the day and age just wasn’t conducive to this? All unknowns.

    I am so sorry you didn’t get a great family. It truly shows your character that you have turned out the way you have. I mostly wish you had that unconditional love as a child. It’s so unfair you didn’t get.

    I hope you get lots of love and cuddles now from Mike and the boys. I know you do.

    So, it appears there is quite the story inside you. I hope to read it in a novel in the not too distant future.

    xxxxx

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thanks Bern, coming from you (an amazing writer) I feel very honoured. I get lots of cuddles these days – I’m definitely not lacking in any love which is nice. I believe I could find my father – but not sure I want to do that. He knew there was a baby but he left town when he found out – they were engaged at the time. Not sure I want all that comes with finding him. Not at the moment anyway. xx

  23. Cat says:

    Annie,

    This is my first introduction to your blog and I think this post heart felt and amazing in every way. You have a strong follower in me now that’s for sure. My heart goes out to you. I know my Dad but in so many ways he is a complete stranger and he was in short, a terrible father so in my own way, I kind of know how you feel. I understand feeling the need to compensate with your own children too.

    Much love,
    Cat.

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thank you for such a lovely comment on your first visit to my blog. I appreciate it a lot. I’m sure we aren’t alone growing up with terrible fathers or mothers. Unfortunately there are many out there. Thank you again xxx

  24. Seraphimsp says:

    Dear Annie
    reading your story had me thinking just how truly amazing your must have been to become the kind generous hearted person you are despite what happened to you. I am blessed to have a close and loving relationship with my father and I am so sorry for the void you may have because of his absence.
    Thank you for sharing your story.
    Love you
    Sarah xxx

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thank you lovely for that beautiful comment. I’m think I was born with a kind heart and not one that is easily filled with hate and bitterness – for that I am so grateful. I know you treasure the relationship with your dad. I sense the closeness in your Tweets & when you have blogged about him. xx

  25. Kylie L says:

    Oh, another amazing blog Annie!
    Watching my husband with our daughter often brings a lump to my throat. He is fabulous with our son too, but there’s something about a man and his girl – especially when that man is the strong silent type, who never had a sister, who never thought he’d be doing French braids and able to tell 35 My Little Ponies apart. I’m so sorry that you missed that time with your own father, and for those first three months 😦 My heart breaks reading that. That you’re so warm and loving and loved is an absolute credit to you after a start like that. xxx

    • Annieb25 says:

      Thank you Kylie – your comment actually brought a lump to my throat. The way you describe your husband with your daughter is beautiful and reminded me of the article you wrote about the love your husband has for your children. I am a little bit obsessed with watching the love fathers have for their daughters and I find myself listening intently when people describe their fathers. I guess we find the unknown fascinating. xx

  26. Jenny C says:

    Well, well, Annie. You have certainly allowed me, in a most beautiful way, to understand you better. Not just what you have been through, what you wonder about, but also how you use such experiences and turn them around. Thank you. I had a sad Father’s Day too. My father died 3 years before my son was born and yesterday all I could think of was how much they would have enjoyed each other.

  27. Rachael says:

    After a long estrangement over some fairly silly things, I have reunited with my father. For a long while I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, but eventually I came to decide I would regret it more if I didn’t try. I did not feel unconditionally loved in the way a father should love their child, and yet my father would strongly disagree. I think many men do not know how to show that love, and think that because it’s in them it’s enough. It’s not. We need to feel it and know it ourselves as daughters.

    I’m a big believer in what’s meant to be will be. I wish you all the best if you choose to find him. x

  28. Purple_cath says:

    Just catching up now Annie, such a heart wrenching post. My eyes filled from your second paragraph. You articulated so eloquently some thoughts that always popped into my head when I had my newborn babies and I cried at the thought of you or any baby being alone. The warm essence that you have pours out from you and it is hard to fathom you have had such experiences. I’m sure other ppl in similiar circumstances would appear to have harden up but I’ve only “met” you on Twitter and you just seem to keep giving!
    Thank you for sharing…your writing is so honest and touching.

  29. You’ve blown me away again. I got to read this the other day, but only now have had the time to come back to comment – and read those of others. Wow.

    I’ve not always had the best relationship with my dad, but I feel lucky that I had the opportunity to know him and the ability to repair the small fractures created when I was young. I still have some father/daughter issues regarding some of the stepfathers I had. And I can only hope that I come out the other side as warm and open and hopeful as you seem to be.

    xo

  30. Naomi says:

    Oh Annie, you write with such clarity.
    I am sorry you even have to wonder about the first three months of your life, it breaks my heart a little.
    You are a warm, loving friend to many, and that is something from within your self that you have found and let shine despite many obstacles.
    I am blessed to have a father who protects and loves his daughters and grandchildren, thank you for reminding me of that.
    xxx

  31. Annie I know it’s late to comment but better late than never I hope… I read your post a while ago but what with one thing and another have been unable to get back to comment until now. It’s a testament to your ability as a writer that your natural voice shines through so clearly, and you have moved so many people to feel such a range of emotions as the topic relates to them – either to comiserate with you over similar feelings, or, wonderfully, to serve as a reminder about the gratitude they have in their own father/daughter relationship.

    I won’t go on *too* much about myself, suffice it to say my dad has always been in my life in some form or another, and it is now at the point where I have managed (I think) to let go of all the hopes and wishes I have had for the sort of relationship I wanted out of a dad and accept the sort of relationship he is able to offer. Some would kindly describe him as a ‘free spirit’, (he fits the Aspergers profile), he is uncompromising in the way he lives his life and basically I have taken on the parent role in our relationship since I could talk. I have spent a long time wondering how much of the way he is, is deliberate, and how much he really can’t help. Either way I missed out.
    I can now see and appreciate him for who he is. He is a good grandfather to my kids and I can relate to him through certain shared interests (music/philosophy) but it is nothing like your standard father/daughter relationship. Over the years I have mourned the lack of a typical father figure to support and guide me, and am now able to (mostly) see my dad’s quirks and limitations as part of who he is, right or wrong. My sister once accurately described our dad as some one who seemed more like an eccentric friend of the family than a dad, and I can’t put it any more succinctly than that. I suppose in life we all have to come to terms with the hand we are dealt, the good and the bad, and create as much good for ourselves as we can. That is the challenge, and there’s nothing fair about it – it seems much easier for some than others – but to be able to rise to that challenge despite all the obstacles in your way, well that’s something to be mighty proud of.

  32. Your Dad would be SO proud of the beautiful person you are today…you have a gift and we are truly blessed to be able to share your thoughts.

    P.S I wish I’d found your Blog a lot sooner though – I have a LOT more reading to do now!
    Thanks to Twitter I stumbled upon you!

    Hugs..Big Al

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