Daddy’s girl, without her daddy, is just a girl. 💔

She lies down for the night, but her day doesn’t end quite yet.

She dreads this time, because every night since that horrid day, she can’t help but cry.

Some nights more than others, sometimes so much, she can hardly breathe.

Her heart breaks a little more, each time.

Figuring out how to pray, is the hardest part.

“Do I beg? Do I barter? Or should I be content, with His plan?” She’s asks herself.

All of the above?

Flooded with emotion, the tears pour out as she cries, “ Why, God? Why my dad?”

The deafening silence cuts deep. No answer.

Yet every single night, she prays.

She thinks of her mom, “How will she do it alone? Can I be there as much as she will need?”

She thinks of the little ones of the family, “What will they do without him? Will their memories fade one day?”

She thinks of the older ones, “How will they handle it? Becoming men, without their dad.”

She thinks, of her babies. “They won’t remember, someone that loved them the most. They won’t remember, when they were oh so little, the tears he cried when they climbed on the couch and snuggled up with him.”

And after thinking of everyone else, she thinks of them. Their relationship.

The Daddy daughter dances, walking her down the isle at her wedding while bawling like a baby, family vacations with his lame “keeping it reel” shirt, the Christmases he went all out for, her 4th birthday when he made her a Barbie dress cake, the comfort of his shoulder when he carried her up to bed, so sleepy she could barely crack her eyes to know what was going on. Memories. Too many to count. But thankful.

She will miss being called “snuggle bunny” and feeling him squeeze tight while giving a “bear hug”.

She will miss his wise words when she’s lost.

She will miss laughing with him, so hard they cry.

She will miss, being daddy’s girl.

Daddy’s girl, without her daddy, is just a girl.