Will You Be My Daddy...?

A Grandfather's Story

By Paul Diekelmann

"Will you be my daddy, because I don't have one?" the child's words haunt my heart and mind all summer. . .and will for the rest of my life.

Katie was born November 2, 1993 in Nova Scotia. She is a very active, talkative, lovable blond, blue eyed beauty. Her brother, Sandy was born August 7, 1985. He is a deep thinker, and usually working on plans to increase his income. The children have no "daddy". Their mother and father were divorced when Katie was 6 months old. And he moved far away. He abandoned them.

Watching Katie grow and participating in her life has been happiness moderated by heartache for me - her maternal grandfather. She is living in a small town where daddies are abundant and family ties are strong. She is fully aware that there is a "daddy Arthur" in another Province who does not come to visit with her. Sometimes her mother calls him to keep him connected with his two children. Not very often does he call them. Letters from him, once abundant, are a now a mere trickle like a drought striken stream. Four years have passed since he hugged his baby girl. She misses the hugs, although she doesn't remember them. She misses waking him early in the morning and crawling in bed to feel his warm and protective presence. She misses snuggling with "daddy" on the sofa, watching TV with him, and asking questions about life, animals, and just things in general. She misses make-believe games, story telling, daddy kissing her good-night and gently smoothing her unmussed hair with his soothing, strong hand. She misses a part of her heart that just has to be filled with her very own daddy.

Once upon a time, when Katie was two years old, she refused to do something trivial that I asked her to do. "You're not my "daddy". I don't have to do what you say!" she said defiantly. I knew that this remark would come someday, and I was ready. "That's right!" I replied sternly. "I am not your "daddy". But I am your grand-DADDY. And you will do as I say." She never made that comment again.

There were times four, three and even two years ago when grandmother and I stayed for 3 to 4 months a year with Katie and her family, in their home. That was before we were able to live in the old farmhouse in the back country. During those early years, Katie came to know me as "papa." We played together every day, learnt things together, went for walks to the little general store for the morning newspaper, an ice cream or to rent a movie. We took advantage of this precious time to chatter with each other, and to share ideas and dreams. She knew, from her babyhood that Papa and Nana came each year when the blossoms were starting to bloom on the little apple tree near the town library. She knew that we leave before her birthday, and she often told me how she felt about our neglect of this special day. This year I promised that we will stay for her birthday. This makes her very happy.

Shortly after we arrived in June this year, Grandmother, Katie, her mother, brother and I went to Sunday dinner at a local restaurant after Church. We were seated as family around the table, with Katie opposite me. Almost as soon as we sat down, she looked me directly in the eyes and, in her usual take-charge voice . . . naive, honest and straightforward . . . she said "Will you be my daddy? Because I don't have one."

This is the first year when grandmother and I would be at the farmhouse full time renovating, and would not see her daily as in the past. I was both mildly amused at her honesty and deeply hurt because of her need for a "daddy" that I could not fill. Although the father within me struggles to fill her need, I know it is not enough. She needs someone full-time to be there when she hurts, when she cries, when she has birthdays and when she merely wants an assurance that a special man -.daddy - is all hers, and only hers, any time she wants or needs him . . . and even when she chooses to ignore his presence.

But I am a grandfather, no longer a father. Even though the father within me struggles to come to the rescue of my abandoned grandchildren, and to be the "daddy" they need. She needs a full time "daddy".

"Will you be my daddy, because I don't have one?" the child's words haunt my heart and mind all summer. . .and will for the rest of my life. Even her "tough" brother Sandy, now 13 years old, appears to have been affected by his sister's plea. A few times while he and I have been out doing things, he absent-mindedly or playfully said "will you be my daddy . . .cuz I don't have one." To him it may be a little joke, I don't know. But I believe that the words echo from a deeply hurting place within him. Like an arrow , Katie's words hit the target - his heart. These words will remain lodged in their hearts until another, better "Daddy" removes them, lovingly heals the wound and releases them to live full and rich lives.

Kalil Gibran , in The Prophet, wrote that "children come through parents, not to them." Passing through parents is a process that requires two people. - a daddy and a mommy. A father (daddy) who abandons the process is answerable to a Higher Authority. I believe that the resulting Justice will be extremely painful.