Daddy Daughter Dance without Daddy




Ever since Baby Girl started kindergarten I have been an active member of the PTA. Heck last year I completely lost my mind and was PTA president. I think because my husband was dead and not here to talk any sense into me. PTA does things like organize the Daddy Daughter every year around Valentines Day.  I was always one of the main organizers of the Dance. One year we did a little craft with a poem Dan had written and cut outs of Daddy's and Daughter's hands. I have the cutest pictures of them at the dance together.

Almost the entire time I've been on PTA we have talked about how we can make it sound more inclusive, because we did want to include everyone we just didn't know how. "Daddy, Daughter, uncle, grandfather, whoever Dance" is not very catchy. We always put in small print on the flyer "If dad is unavailable the daughter may be accompanied by someone else who has a father like role" Man we were stupid.

If I were to put on facebook "hey guys Baby Girl needs an escort to the Daddy Daughter Dance" it would not surprise me at all if I got 100 volunteers for that job (maybe I should do a little experiment and try that). We are lucky, we have great male role models in abundance. I am pretty certain any of them would jump at the chance to do something for her that Dan no longer can. Unfortunately none of them are Dan, none of them are her daddy and she knows it.

This year the PTA got smart (I wonder if it's because the widow was in the room). We renamed the Dance "Young Ladies Winter Ball" Then we put in pretty large print that "the young ladies may pick any adult escort they choose" This is a great alternative, as the resident widow I am happy with this phrasing. Baby Girl however is not buying it. She knows you can call it whatever you want but really it's still the daddy daughter dance.

Two years ago Dan hadn't even been dead for a month. I have no clue what we were doing (crying I'm sure) but we did not make it to the dance. Last year Baby Girl wanted nothing to do with it and we went ice skating instead.  This year she wants to go, but she doesn't want to go. The reality is she knows your daddy is supposed to take you and she knows hers is dead.

The other day she said "Mommy your volunteering at the Dance right?" "No baby I wasn't planning to." Immediate tears came pouring from her face and shes crying "But mommy if you don't volunteer at the dance how am I supposed to go play with all my friends." "O Baby Girl if you wanna go to the dance mommy will just take you to the dance." still crying she sobs "No you can't take me your a mommy." ok fair enough. "Well Baby Girl one of your uncles can take you, which one should we ask, how about your favorite uncle." "NO, I don't want him to take me either, I don't want anyone to take me, I just want to go. If you volunteer then I have to go with you."  You see my baby girl is smart, it still hurts so much. She doesn't want anyone to take her but her daddy, that is his job and his job only. But she wants to wear a pretty dress and she wants to run around with her friends and she wants to eat cookies and punch. How is she supposed to do that without her daddy? Well this is how she reasoned it. If I'm volunteering then it is perfectly legitimate that she come with me. Then she has a reason for being there, then she doesn't have to find a substitute daddy. This is how baby Girl does grief.

So then I emailed my PTA friends and told them this convoluted story that actually makes pretty good sense, especially from a nine year olds point of view. I told them so I am going to show up with baby girl and I need a "job" but not a real job that you actually need help with because she might change her mind right before hand and decide to not go. she might get there and see all the other daddy's and want to leave. She might run around all night with her friends and have a great time in which case I will stand around and talk to you and try to look busy when she walks by. Because this is grief, it makes no sense, it is totally unpredictable, you never know how you are going to feel from one moment to the next.

Today we went shopping with her little friend. They got new dresses and shoes for the dance. Baby Girl came out of the dressing room in a dress that was made for her and smiled and spun.  I turned the other way and took two deep breathes and held in tears because at that moment I pictured her running down the hall and jumping into her daddy's arms and saying "daddy do you like my new dress." and he would have smiled just as big and said "Yes baby I love your dress, you look beautiful and I can't wait to escort you to the dance."

I wrote a book about my grief, you can read it here: Carry on Castle

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

PTSD is not for sissys

Image
Do you know what PTSD is? Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I bet you think you do.  You might say something like "ya its what people that go off to war have" true. You might say "It's when people see really terrible things" true. A few really smart people might say "ya my friend watched her beloved husband die and now she has it" very true. If you are a mental health professional you might say "ya a child who all of a sudden has a dad who dies will have it" also true.  I was telling a friend once about how life is now without Dan and she said "wow it's almost like you have PTSD or something." No not almost, we do. But what exactly is it? Well it's complicated. I can't describe it for baby girl because I am not in her mind (unfortunately) but I can try and describe it for me. I am hesitant to do so; it's not an easy thing to talk about, But if we are going on a the point of this blog is to be therapeutic for me and h
Read more

The Floor

Image
I pulled him off of our bed and onto the floor. The 911 dispatcher told me to. She said it would help him breathe. I grabbed his ankles and pulled hard on his legs. He fell to the floor with a loud thump. I gasped at the loudness of it, but he didn’t move on his own at all. He didn't shake his head and say, “Ow, what’d you pull me off the bed for?” He didn't do anything. He just laid there. She told me to lift his neck up to help him breathe. I tried, but it was hard to move him, and I didn't want to hurt him.  I put my head on his chest again and again, I couldn’t tell if he was breathing, I couldn’t tell if that was his heartbeat or mine that I heard as he laid on the floor.  “Daddy! Wrestle with me!” she would shout, as she jumped into him and they landed on the floor. It was their favorite game. She would pound him and he would exaggerate the impact, clutching his stomach and lifting his legs in the air.  “You got me good, baby girl!” he would tell her. She would grin i
Read more

Milestones in grief

Image
                                                                Dan and I around 2011 I wrote this for a writing contest about milestones. Writing about every grief milestone would take a book and I had a word limit so I couldn't do that. I tried to do the really big ones. I have not had a particularly eventful life. When I was eight, my parents moved, but they took me with them. At ten, I had a pretty bad accident, but I came out of it fine. My husband and I met at sixteen, and at nineteen, we went against all good advice and got married. I gave birth to our daughter when I was 27.   I loved our boring, normal life. We were living our happily ever after. I was a stay at home mom, Dan was finishing up grad school. Everyone says this kind of thing at funerals, but Dan really was the most amazing person I’ve ever met in my life. He wanted to save the world: the people, the animals, the ecosystem. He wanted to make the world better, and he was. I loved our little family and couldn
Read more