The longing is different for father than for mother; even without knowledge of either of them, the heart will somehow placed them in two totally different roles.
A little girl’s heart perpetually longs for daddy.
The one whose ‘got her back’ even when she messes up.
Especially when she messes up….
The heart can sense something is missing; many of the ways pursued to fill the void are short-lived bandages on a cancer eating its way through the core.
Everyone needs someone who will simply “be there” no matter what goes on in life.
Absent of that one to lean on, the heart fluctuates between intense search to find someone to fill the void, and piercing independence to keep everyone at bay.
The heart’s constant search for him will fall for ugly substitutes for his love, resulting in more holes in the heart.
Finding him brings an indescribable sense of completeness. Illogical as it may seem, seeing his face & hearing his voice brought peace to one of the deepest corners of the abandoned heart.
Heard all the opinions, acutely aware of ugly accusations.
Logic easily convinces why the labels seemed to fit him.
For all his flaws, he is still father. Something way down deep felt – still can feel – unexplainable loyalty and affinity for the man.
Whatever things he was, or was not, he was my father