by Madison Lowe.

“I’ll get the door for you.”

He stepped out of the car and walked over to my side. I smiled so wide it hurt; I was a lady, a princess. Tonight was my night.

“Thank you Daddy.”

He smiled. “No problem sweetheart.”

I looked down at my glittering shoes, sparkling with each step, my tutu casting a puffy shadow across the walkway.

“You’ll be there won’t you Daddy? For the whole thing?”

He stopped and grabbed unto my shoulders, sequins falling over his hands.

“Now, you know I want to kiddo.”

I stared at him hard, my eyes filling with tears.

“Then why can’t you?”

He swallowed hard as his eyes darted down.

“Daddy’s got stuff to do, I can’t miss it.”

Tears fell freely and mascara smeared across my cheeks. I balled my fists and gritted my teeth.

“It’s not fair!”

He looked down and kissed my forehead.

“Life’s not fair pumpkin. I’ll walk you to the door.”

I wiped away the tears and took his hand.

“I love you Hun. I know you’ll do great.”

“I love you too Daddy.” I said.

*             *              *

“Madison! Telephone, it’s your Dad!”

I rolled my eyes and grunted. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to him. It had been almost two weeks since he last called. As if I would give him the time of day.

Since as long as I can remember, my Dad has been missing in action. Every other weekend I recall sitting on the couch with bags in hand waiting for a weekend with my Dad that would never come. The excuses ranged anywhere from work to illness. Regardless of how long I had seen him last or how much I called and cried, he never showed.

I grew up not knowing what it was like to have a Dad sit down and have a ‘talk” with his daughter’s new boyfriend, no Dad to teach me how to ride my bike or throw me in the pool during the summers. With Dad, if I was lucky, the most I got was a five-minute phone call once every two weeks.

I slumped down the hallway and snatched the phone off the table. The first words out of his mouth forced a sigh.

“How’ve you been? Sorry I haven’t called lately, been caught up in work.”

It was the same phone conversation just a different day. Each time he would apologize for not calling and then do the same thing the next week. I was used to it.

“Yeah. It’s fine, Dad.”

“Actually there’s something I wanted to say to you.”

I paused. Not wanting whatever was coming for me. Whatever he was about to say I didn’t want to know.

“Dad you don’t-

“No, I do. Something I’ve always needed to say.”

I held my breath hoping it would be he loved me or something simple. Something that didn’t make me think about my childhood, the most important time for a daughter to have her Dad. The time he wasn’t there.

“There’s nothing I can do about it now, but for the times I wasn’t there, I’m sorry. I know there’s nothing I can do to fix it but I do love you and I regret every minute of missing you grow up.”

Suddenly I could breathe. It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I could finally let go. I had been holding on to the absence of my Dad, blaming myself and wondering why. All I had needed was an apology. All I had needed was for him to miss me like I had missed him. I no longer wanted to hold a grudge I had to forgive him. I had to move on.

I sighed, a tear spilling over.

“It’s okay Dad.” And it is.