My Daddy

My daddy… he’s a man I miss out on when I’m not helping him.
When I don’t get out there and help him, I feel like I’ve deserted him.
Like I’ve left him out in the cold after all those times he’s sacrificed everything,
just to keep me fed.
When he’s out there working on that car in snow cold weather, he’s freezing.
He’s taking the chance of getting sick, or maybe catching pneumonia,
and he could die for this.
Just over trying to make sure we have the comfort and warmth, and saftey of a car
in case we would like to selfishly go get a coke, a pizza, or something
that takes more of his money that he works so hard for.
He breaks his back on a hard job to take care of us.
Not bothering him a bit that we sit nice and warm inside
with our socks off, playing cards, laughing, and having a fire going.
I feel so guilty if I don’t go out there.
Even if I don’t know how to fix a car.
Just to be there to hold the flashlight, or turn the switch,
or just be ready to get something for him.
So long as I’m out there freezing too, taking my fair share of the abuse,
and just somehow letting my daddy know I love him enough
to be out there in that cold too, lets me know that I’m no better than my daddy.
And I’m willing to sacrifice to prove it to him.
I want him to know I love him for all he’s done
and am so thankful to God that he’s here.
And even if he didn’t do anything, I would still love him just as much.
Thank you, God, for giving me a daddy at all,
and then thank you a million for making him the daddy I have.
Forever & Eternally Grateful

12-14-91 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)
In loving memory of my dad Willard Brookshire
(Feb.13, 1944 – Jan. 27, 2005)

Published by

gaillovesgod

It's not about me. It's all about my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!

9 thoughts on “My Daddy”

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