Daddy's Little Girl - a Father's Day Poem

Many daughters and fathers have that “Daddy’s little girl” relationship. I was closer to my mother when I was a child, but I do remember experiencing a special feeling when my dad would give me some one-on-one attention. I spent lots of time with my mom, hanging out, talking about everything under the sun, talking walks, cooking, putting puzzles together—all kinds of things. My dad was much quieter and harder to get to know. Still, there are memories that stick with me after all these years, special moments with my dad that made me feel, if only for a short time, like Daddy’s little girl.

Though time and miles

Keep us apart and much too far away,

I’m reminded of old and sweet times past

On today—Father’s Day.

The sweetest memory of you and me

That showed me that you care

Were those early mornings before grade school

When you would brush my hair.

Our lives so changed with separate homes

And fewer times together

But the ties we had and still do now

Will hold us close forever.

Scattered moments, fewer words—

A high price that we’ve paid.

But I’ll never forget the thrill I felt

When I’d bring you lemonade.

Our lives are different—busy and full—

My own is in a whirl.

But at times I long to go back in time

To be Daddy’s little girl.

I do remember my dad brushing my long, naturally curly hair, carefully trying not to hurt my head. And the lemonade reference? That’s what he drank a lot of when I was a kid, so we always had it in the refrigerator. Sometimes he would ask me to go get him a glass, and I would feel a thrill in my chest as I ran off to do his bidding.

After my parents split up when I was thirteen, I didn’t see my dad as much. I had to work through the fact my folks were no longer together, the fact that I didn’t see my brothers as much, the fact that I had to change schools, and the fact that I would always have two houses to go to. Regardless of whether any of those things were good or bad, they were nevertheless changes to which I had to adjust.

If my relationship with my dad wasn’t as tight as it was with my mom, it was even less so after my parents divorced. I was a young girl who had to work through the issues of not having a father figure at the impressionable age of thirteen. Just to make it clear, though, my dad never deserted me. He was in my life as much as my busy teenage life, and, later, my college life, would allow him. I visited off and on, never missing a Thanksgiving or Christmas, often making a Fourth of July or Memorial Day weekend. And my dad has never missed a birthday. Never. He attended my high school and college graduations. He drove to my college town for the day when I had an emergency appendectomy. And I've always known that he would be there for me no matter what. I've been lucky in that way.

After going through the challenges of high school and college, I started spending more time at my dad’s house again. And, over the years, as we—yes, my dad, too!—have grown and matured, I have developed a new appreciation, a desire to know my dad, and an even deeper love for him. One of the coolest things I came to know over the years was his sense of humor--often subtle and dry, sometimes silly and zany. And I've learned that he has depth, too, but has a hard time showing it--just as I do.

I gave the poem “Daddy’s Little Girl” to my dad in a frame on Father's Day back in 2002, I think. He hangs it in his bedroom to this day. I think he felt it as special to be his little girl’s daddy as it was for me to feel like “Daddy’s little girl.”