I wrote the original poem (found here) shortly after my dad’s death in 2016. This morning I rewrote it:

“He’s in a better place,” you hear them say.
Even though it’s true, the pain doesn’t quite go away.
A daddy is the first man a girl sees–
The first man she wants to please.

She wants to ride on his back–
to give her the strength she may lack.
She wants to hold his hand
Because no other will compare in the land.

One moment she’s his girl,
Yet the next, she’s asked a question with a diamond or a pearl.
She races off to start her new life,
To make her dad proud with her new role called “wife”.

But part of her heart still lies
With the man who saw her first with his own eyes.
The one who watched her grow,
From a babe to having her own children to show.

All these things are dear to her heart,
With memories she dares not part.
But if there’s one thing for sure,
It was that his life meant more.

It was more than hugs and kisses
To a girl whose daddy she misses.
It was a life of giving
Because, for Christ, he was living.

His testimony came from God’s Word
Where the true example was Jesus our Lord.

His desires were not treasures of this land,
Only ones in which most think bland.
What he wanted most was for others to see
God’s grace and love through who he’d be.

I now give those hugs and kisses, three and four,
But do my children know God’s love more?
Am I known for simply my motherly role
Or more for my God-centered soul?
Do they know my life means more?
Do they know who I’m living for?