Rest In Peace, Daddy

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Today I am a girl missing her dad.

I’m the 9-year-old girl content to be lounging on the lawn chair with her daddy in the backyard of their military housing.

I’m the daughter grateful that her dad set aside cultural differences in a time of racial unrest and married a Japanese woman to start a family.

I’m the career woman succeeding because her dad gave her the gift of words, both written and spoken…and the gifts of love and compassion.

I’m the mother blessed to have been raised by an involved, loving father who became the best grandpap in the world.

I’m the woman who will remember to laugh when the going gets tough because Dad said it would make it not so tough.

I’m a girl remembering to laugh through her tears…as she honors her dad, taken at the ridiculously young age of 67.

Today, I reflect on the 16 years without my dad…and know that even though I can no longer hug him and kiss him, you can no more separate me from him than you can separate rays from the sun.

Daddy, today, as always, I beam my love to you…

Denise Yamada © 4/2011

2 comments to Rest In Peace, Daddy

  • WOW. This was really touching.

  • Dear Denise,
    My vision is blurred through my tears as I type this reply. Thank you for sharing your thoughts & intimate pictures of your father, revealing such Love! My father, a WWII & Viet Nam Veteran, has been gone from my life for almost 10 years. Aren’t we privileged to have our fathers live to see their daughters grow into accomplished women? And Blessed with memories of him loving-up and laughing with our children, even for a little while?
    Although I knew an often absent, harsher man while growing up, my father was a tender & patient Grandpa. I can still hear my father’s throaty voice calling out the Spanish versions of my children’s names (carinitos, as they call them..Love names). I miss my father, especially as I see my sons and daughter achieve milestones at events he will never attend. Yet, I find comfort seeing his resemblance AND mannerisms scattered in each of his grandchildren~
    Thank you, Denise, for letting me escape into a fond reverie of Juan S. Marmolejo, and allow me to “Honor my father”.

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