“Once upon a time, each of us was somebody’s kid. Everyone had a father, even if he never provided anything more than his seed. Everyone had a mother, even if she had to leave us on a stranger’s doorstep. No matter how we’re eventually raised, all of our stories begin the exact same way. They all end the same, too.” ~ Brian K. Vaughan, Saga, Volume 1
Since the apocalypse didn’t happen, G and I went to Washington Square Park and we had lunch in the West Village on Saturday. The weather was balmy with temperatures hovering around 82F/27C.
On Sunday evening, we went to the local pizzeria and each ordered a slice to take home to eat as we watched the Miss USA Pageant. It was really a rare event, as she and I do not watch such programs. We usually watch the news or foreign films together, as I am not such a big fan of pageants or even talent shows, but somehow it came on the television as we were trying to find something to watch, and she decided that she wanted to have a look.
The segment that we watched highlighted the lives of some of the contestants, and in particular it featured how the fathers of the contestants played a central role in the successes of the young women. Some of the stories were quite touching. I turned around to look at G, and I saw that she had tears rolling down her cheeks. I asked her what was wrong, and she answered, simply, “I wish I had a dad that loves me like these dads love their daughters.”
I was gutted. I was unsure how to answer so I just gave her a hug. Sometimes words are just useless and at that moment I felt that nothing I could say would ease that longing in her heart for a father who loves and cares about her.