There are probably about a jillion blog posts starting with "My father died ___ years ago today when I was ___ years old..." and continue in how lack of a father figure affected their life.
This is not what I'm writing about.
I'm happy. I often catch myself thinking I'd be happier if he was still alive. I then correct myself.
Probably not. God takes care of me. I definitely wouldn't be facing the challenges I am, but I others would find me. The truth, no matter how much I pity myself, is the part of my life with Dad in it was a short chapter.
God never planned for me to have him here for the rest of my life. This is how I'm supposed to grow up.
I think of him when I have a hard decision to make. When I clean my room, starting in the corner and moving outward to stay focused. When I listen to classical music. When I play piano and see my big hands reach ten keys. I remember him a little bit when I play with cameras. When I take pictures. When I see the word "p h o t o g r a p h y"
I have pieces of my dad laced about my very being.
I remind me of him. I totally love that. I think being his daughter, is enough; for me, for God, for him. It's enough because, while having Dad here was a short chapter, being without him is only a little longer.
We see ourselves in terms of yesterday and today. Our Heavenly Father sees us in terms of forever. Although we might settle for less, Heavenly Father won't, for He sees us as the glorious beings we are capable of becoming. -Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin
