No, it’s not about how long it’s been since I posted.

It’s about my daughter, Kaylie. I’ve mentioned her before – in this post. She’s now 7 years old. I haven’t seen her since November, 2001. Not once. I hadn’t talked to her since she was 3 years old.

I finally talked to her today. It was, ultimately, bittersweet. When you reach the day you’ve been yearning for, for years – and she speaks, offhandedly, about “her daddy”- and she isn’t talking about you; a little piece of you dies. A very well-buried piece, but a piece that hasn’t surfaced in a long time. You can kid yourself – you can be told that she calls someone else daddy – but until you hear it, you can lie to yourself.

I can’t lie to myself anymore. It hurts. It hurts so badly that I’d like to just curl up on the bed and got to sleep until morning. It’s only 6:30. It doesn’t matter. I still want to. Writing helps, sometimes. It lets you exorcise some of the things you can’t get your mind off of, and get back to a semblance of normalcy. I don’t know if it will help, but I might as well try.

Don’t get me wrong. I was ecstatic that I finally got to talk to her. I still am, really. It’s just heartbreaking. It’s that sucker punch that you don’t see coming, can’t fend off, and can’t escape. I’m just rambling now, I guess.

I’ll have to live with it. I don’t have to like it. I don’t have to enjoy it. I just have to love her.

I always have, always will, and do so with all my heart. One day I’ll hear her call me daddy again. Whether here, or in heaven, it will happen.

Yeah, I’m being a bit transparent today. I’ll live. I’ll even smile, later. I have a wife who loves me, and children around me.

There’s always that piece of my heart that resides wherever she does, though. She’s my firstborn, and her daddy’s little girl. Even if she doesn’t know it. That’ll have to be enough for me. God knows. God loves me. God is merciful. God have mercy on me, a sinner.