I was That Girl to That Man

Please welcome this guest post,

By Kathleen Comeans

That girl…that was how he began to refer to me, and I was okay with that.

I was that girl he would ask every day what was my schedule.

I was that girl he would call in the middle of the night to make sure I had made it home safely.

I was that girl who shared breakfast with him, every morning, for three and a half years.

I was that girl who listened to his stories, working on the railroad, football games in high school, Joe Lamb’s gas station, and how first base on the ball field used to be where his front porch is now.

I was that girl who shared his adventures, horseback riding in the Black Hills, camping at Devil’s Tower, fishing in Canada, walking in the ocean, and Vermont winters.

I was that girl who received his endless encouragement.

I was that girl he believed could accomplish whatever she started.

I was that girl and he was my biggest fan, at every dance recital, cheering and whistling, from the front row.

I was glad to be that girl, because to me, he was That Man.

He was that man I cared for every day.

He was that man who hugged me goodbye and asked when I’d be back.

He was that man I took to the cemetary to visit his loved ones.

He was that man who always loved me and his family.

He was that man who still missed his wife of fifty three years.

He was that man for whom I would do anything.

He was that man, my dad.

My name may have escaped him, but not the sound of my voice and the look of my face.

He always knew who I was…I was That Girl.

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10 thoughts on “I was That Girl to That Man

  1. jaggh53163

    Kathleen,
    I really enjoyed reading that tribute to your father, He sounds like a wonderful Dad, friend, counselor, and encourager. You have been blessed.
    I also liked your writing style. Short and to the point, but definitely leaving an impression. You should Guest Post on a regular basis.

    Reply
    1. bobcomeans Post author

      Thank you so much for such nice comments. Dad was all that and I was a blessed daughter. I’ve written some other stories that you’ll see later. Kathleen

      Reply
  2. Wendy

    Your post was lovely. It is so heartbreaking to watch our loved ones become frail, forgetful and afraid. I know, like me, you wouldn’t trade that time for anything.

    Reply
  3. Jeri Comeans -Chase

    What a wonderful way to remember your Dad ( My Brother) .. I have my own to think about also.. Thanks !

    Reply

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