Daddy's Little Girl

My mother recently told me that when I was a very young girl I would stay up late and stand on the couch and peer out the window. I would wait for daddy to get home from work. I would wait for his truck to pull in the driveway and little me would hop off that couch and stand right at that door like a lonely puppy waiting for him to walk in.

I have no memory of this.

When I was years older my father asked me " Why aren't you daddy's little girl anymore?"

His question confused me , had I ever been daddy's little girl?

Ah yes. The hat. 

My father had taken myself and my younger brother to the fair that day.

This was long after him and my mother finally officially split.

He bought me a hat , pink and trucker style with that sweet-as-sugar catch phrase
"Daddy's little girl"

I sometimes think he expected me to stay little forever.
No feelings greater than happy, sad, or hungry.
No activity worse than teasing little brother.

When I was 8 he told me
  "You're eight years old now , you're old enough to make the right decisions."
He was referring to my mother here, how he wanted me to live with him instead.

8 years old is not old enough to start mental manipulations on.

He use to play baseball and squirt guns with us , I do remember this.
For a few years he would even take us to the park.
Sadly for my brother though , that didnt last long.
It was like , I got to a certain age and my father thought I no longer needed that.

And maybe I didn't
but my brother , three years younger than me, should have had three more years of laughter and summer and fun.
Instead of starting off three years too early with inside video games and awkward small talk over watching television.

My sophomore year of high school, we moved across country.
My mother and brother and step-father and I.
My father signed the papers, let us go in exchange for not having to pay child support. 

He wrote us letters though.
We would fly out to visit him every summer.

On my sixteenth birthday , he made me cry.
I still to this day don't know why he was angry with me.
I went outside , and he's on his phone and he turns around with a "Why can't you ever just listen? I can't deal with this right now . Why?
Never mind it's your birthday I don't want to yell at you."

Too late.
It still bothers me that I don't know what I did.

I graduated high school at 18 , thank goodness.
He said he was proud of me and he wouldn't miss it for the world.

How long was it?
Maybe two weeks before I was scheduled to walk across that stage, my mom came into my bedroom crying.
All sorts of colorful names she gave him , without using his actual name.
Somehow I knew what it was without her telling me outright .
Daddy's little girl was no more.


He never bought the tickets, he never planned on coming .
My brother and mother watched me , since at this point my stepfather was gone too.

So many betrayals , all swirling at once.


I got over it though , my forgiving side winning like usual.
Stayed with him over the summer , meeting his new baby son.
Exchanging civil conversation with his new , three years older than myself, wife.

Staying doesn't equate to bonding though , that much was soon apparent.
My father , who can make strangers laugh in public , who can make small talk with neighbors on the river, is also the same person who, when his family drops by for a visit, somehow seems to magically vanish for long periods at a time , visiting with no one. 
I  did not have one meaningful conversation with him the whole summer.

I spent that year in Michigan , going to school , catching up with family.
The same family that would tell me how happy my father was to have us back.
Then why couldn't he show it?
How hard was it just to get to know me ?

A few months from 19 , I packed up what I could fit into one suitcase and moved back to Arizona.

I talked to him on the phone here and there.
And those small chats became fewer and fewer.
The drama got larger and louder.
"Family Stuff"


Is what we all call it when someone asks what's wrong.
"Oh it's just family stuff." We say as we shake our heads and change the subject.

I heard it  in pieces second hand from my brother or mother. 
How my fathers wife was treating my brother , and trying to fight with my mother.
My father standing aside and allowing all of this to happen.
How dare you.

I tried to call my father , no answer.
I left voicemails , un returned.
Text messages probably never read.
I told my brother specifically to tell him to call me back.
Never happened.

This went on for two months .
Two months he couldn't , or wouldn't spare 60 seconds for me.

Until he called one day out of nowhere,
asking how work was , how much was I making , how many hours I had.
Called to yell at me about student loans from my previous school year , and how I was a disappointment for taking a year off.
How broke he was.
I cried , I told him sorry , I would pay him.

It's been close to a year since I've heard from him.
He hasn't called for a chat since.

I heard how he's doing though.
Too broke to buy his oldest son a 75 cent birthday card when he turned 17, 
but his wife can turn around and buy her baby an infant electronic tablet.

He does't give my brother lunch money , or care about his grades.
He doesn't go anywhere or do anything with him anymore.
He buys food that only the toddler can have ,specific cupboards just for him
  and my brother lives off ramen.
My brothers shower broke one day , and my father was too busy to fix it , yet wouldnt allow him to use his shower.
My brother went two days without showering.

He is the reason my brother is a constant worry in my head.
I've thought about breaking my silence for my brothers sake , but I can't do it.
I'm too scared of his reply.

I'm so sorry for that.

I've considered writing a letter, but I heard that my grandmother wrote him a letter as well , and it went unread ,ripped up and thrown away.

My father no longer exists.
He's physically a person.
He's just  not who he once was.
The father I used to have would have nothing but bad things to say about this person.

I am two months away from 21 now.
Daddy's little girl , doesn't claim her daddy anymore.