Holding hands - the story of a father and daughter

kimituca

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• mystory2010

We held hands even from the moment I came into the world, small and wrinkly. We held hands, him crying with joy that I was the girl he wanted, me crying because I didn’t know the person that I was holding hands with so well. He was my father and, until the moment he died, we held hands. It was more than a connection. It was more than the bond between father and daughter. It was a feeling that went across all existing boundaries, a sort of fascination on both parts. He, the father, appreciated his daughter more than anything else in the world. I, the daughter, appreciated my father for being the strong and loving person that he was.

We held hands when I suffered the worst accident in my life, losing a finger. He fought so that I receive the proper treatment and held my hand when I was in the hospital, establishing a connection that even death could not break. We discovered each other with the passing of years, knowing for certain that our hearts will be together, whether we were close or at miles away. My father proved to me that there is no other father in the world who loves his daughter the same, with tears of joy in his eyes whenever he saw his precious jewel. We held hands when he taught me to read, when he showed me how to skate or ride a bike.

Together, we were the perfect pair. We cried together when our dog died, we cried even more when we lost people that were important to us and I held his hand, crying, when he passed alone into the gripping arms of death. When he left, I did not have the opportunity to tell him that I love him, that he was the person I liked to hold hands with the most. I sat by him and felt his cold hands, wishing that I could hear his voice just one more time.

He was my mentor, my father and my friend in the most difficult times of my life. I was his inspiration, his joy and his reason for living. He left me sudden, as if he was in a hurry to see God, to put in a good word for me. Today, the thing I miss the most is holding hands with my father.