Stories Index
Randi was in grade school when her father's affair led to her parents' divorce. By many measures, their father-daughter relationship remained strong during the subsequent years. She spent weekends with Dad and he attended as many school functions and games as he could, although life changes kept him from more of these events during her high school years. Still, their time together always seemed positive and he believed she was an example of a child who had weathered the pain of a broken home rather well. But his perspective shifted when he received a link to an anonymous letter written from a daughter to her absent father. The letter, he was told, was actually written by Randi, now a young adult. This is their story...
The Letter

Father: Someone sent me a link to an online talk that was given by a professional who works with families. Part of the presentation focused on the need for parents to be present for their children and, to make this point, the speaker read an anonymous letter written by a daughter "to express how not having a father affected her." I had been told that Randi was its author. This is what the letter said:
I wish you had been my rock. When different struggles hit me, that you could have been there to wrap your big arms around me; to just hold me, let me know everything is going to be alright.

I wish that you could have been a dad that I looked up to and said: that is the kind of man I want to marry; a leader, protector, someone I could trust.

I wish you would take me aside for the father-daughter talk; tell me that I deserve nothing but the best and that I am beautiful no matter what anyone says.

I wish you could have been there at the simplest of times; that I could have looked up into stands during games and seen your smiling face. I wanted to know that you were proud of me; to hear you say, "That's my daughter."

But most all, I wish you said you loved me. It's a phrase people say so much, yet I rarely heard it from you. Not only did I want to hear it in your words, but also I wanted to see it in your actions.

I wished you could have been the father that I always hoped for; the father I need.
As I listened, I felt crushed. Hearing her pain made me feel powerless and hopeless. For a moment, I just wanted to quit life. But later that day I contacted Randi, told her I was both sorry and confused, and asked her to give me more explanation about that letter so I could better understand.

Reflections

The following comments were parts of the subsequent communication between Randi and her father as they attempted to explain the meaning of the letter to each of them.

Father: If I did not know you had written it, I would have never believed that letter was about me. The letter describes a father who is totally absent from his daughter's life. I know I got things wrong, but I always wanted you to know I loved you and that you were important to me.

Randi: I know the letter was hard for you, and to be honest, I did not expect you to ever hear it. I never wanted you to think you were the worst father. That's not the case at all. I was asked to write a letter about things I wished for growing up. The letter was about things I honestly struggled with.
I wish you had been my rock. When different struggles hit me, that you could have been there to wrap your big arms around me; to just hold me, let me know everything is going to be alright.
Father: After the affair and then later the divorce from your mother, I just wasn't around like I use to be. Instead of being at home with you every day and night, I spent time with you on occasional weeknights as well as every other weekend. I made those times a priority, but I know it was a huge change for you. I guess I got use to the new "normal" without really understanding how it affected you.

Randi: I struggled with you not being around so much. Whenever I went over to friends houses, their dads were always there. That was not the case for me. Although as I got older I realized you were just working, it was still hard to not have a father around when most of my friends did. I also wanted you to be there when I was having a rough day; I wish you could have been there to just hug me.
I wish that you could have been a dad that I looked up to and said: that is the kind of man I want to marry; a leader, protector, someone I could trust.
Randi: The affair made us adjust to a family without a father to lead us, and that is something that I struggled with. I wish you could have been our leader. I wanted someone that led us spiritually, too.

Father: I think most men long to be a hero, especially in the eyes of their children. I can't imagine anything that could feel better to me than to hear a daughter say, "I want to marry a man who is like my father." It's hard to know you don't see me that way. To be honest, that's the part of the letter that stung the most and there is a big part of me that hopes you may be able to say something different about me someday. I haven't given up on the ways I want to keep growing and changing. I know I can't undo these past years, but I hope I can be a better dad to you even now. I hope someday you can tell your own children that I was a good man.
I wish you would take me aside for the father-daughter talk; tell me that I deserve nothing but the best and that I am beautiful no matter what anyone says.
Randi: I do wish that you had taken me aside one day and told me what kind of man I deserved, and that I deserve the best. I wanted to hear that you thought I was beautiful, because I don’t think I ever heard that from you.

Father: I remember one time when I tried to be very intentional about doing that. You were getting pressure from other people in the family in regard to the way you looked. That upset me, and I talked to you about it. I wanted you to know that you were absolutely beautiful just the way you were; that you should never let those kinds of pressures change that truth. That was a big memory to me because I thought I had really stepped up and done what a father should do. I'm not sure why you don't remember it. Maybe I didn't really communicate those things clearly enough. Or maybe I just didn't say them often enough. 
I wish you could have been there at the simplest of times; that I could have looked up into stands during games and seen your smiling face. I wanted to know that you were proud of me; to hear you say, "That's my daughter."
Father: I did go to your games, especially in the earlier years when you were in grade school and junior high. Once you got into high school, both of our schedules got so busy that it just didn't happen as much. I shouldn't have let that be an excuse. You were more important than that. I should have made sure you knew it by being there more often.

Randi: You missed a lot of the important things in my life. I felt overshadowed by my sister because I was into sports and she was into art and drama, which were things you enjoyed. I thought you were always more proud of her. I would see your face and excitement every time she was on stage, and I never saw that with anything I did. And a lot of the times you weren’t there for what I thought were meaningful moments and when the parents would walk up, it would just be mom. So part of me just wanted to hear you say you were proud of me, even though I know it was just a game. I wanted that affirmation.

Father: There were times when I actually thought about that and wondered if you ever felt like I favored your sister's activities. I should have talked to you about it then. I don't know why I didn't, but I wish I had. My own father rarely expressed his approval of me so I should have known how important that was to you. I have always been just as proud of who you are and all you've done. I should have done better at letting you know that. I'll do better now.
But most all, I wish you said you loved me. It's a phrase people say so much, yet I rarely heard it from you. Not only did I want to hear it in your words, but also I wanted to see it in your actions.

I wished you could have been the father that I always hoped for; the father I need.
Randi: That part is kind of hard hitting, probably more than I wanted it to be. It’s not that you never said you loved me, but it was just hard cause I maybe only heard it 3 or 4 times a year, which is not that much coming from a dad. I also wanted you to show that you loved me, not just with your words but with your actions. I wanted you around more, and sometimes I just wanted a simple hug.

Father: This is quite a reality check for me. You know, in my head I said "I love you" at some point every time I saw you or spoke to you. I would have put the number at closer to 40 or 50 times a year. And there were times when I hugged you or sat close to you. I always wanted you to know I loved you. I wish I would have spent more time asking you about us... finding out what you really needed from me and what you were missing. I probably couldn't have fixed everything, but I would have wanted you to know how important you are to me. I don't want you to have any question about that. 

Randi: Just because I have some struggles does not mean I don't love you. I love you so much, and nothing you could ever do would change that. I think I just wish our relationship was stronger. I want the kind of father-daughter relationship I see so often with my friends and their fathers.

Father: Help me learn to do that better. I want that, too. I love you.