not a wednesday . . . but close

growing up, wednesday was always my favorite day of the week. the other days had their own individual highlights, and of course i wore dresses each and every day, but wednesday was my prettiest day. i would plan for it all week. and finally, 6 days later, it would appear.

wednesday was "date with my daddy" day.

i don't remember what age i was when it all started or how many years it lasted before we had to stop . . . surely school got in the way eventually. but for a small portion of my life, wednesday was the my favorite of all days.

dad would take time out of his busy work schedule to take me to a restaurant, usually this italian place in our neighborhood. i'm not sure what we'd talk about; surely nothing profound (i was perhaps only 5 after all). i'm sure a great many lunches he felt starved for real conversation. on more than one occaision, i'd guess that i performed my famous "stand on a table and dance while singing to the music" routine. people loved it. trust me.

it was at those lunches that i learned how to shoot straws at people - a mistake my mother has never forgiven him for. i remember one particular lunch we ran into some business colleagues of his. he introduced me as his beautiful princess . . . and for maybe the first (and sadly, one of the few) time in my life, i believed it. he made me feel like i was the queen of the world. that i was the most special daughter who had ever been born. that i was worthy of attention and praise.

i know i write a lot about my dad and my brother. i think its because i hear so often from women who feel neglected by the men in their life, and sadly, the havoc that has wreaked on their lives is all too evident. they grow up feeling neglected, unworthy, alone, unwanted, and certainly anything but exquisite or lovely.

there are, of course, things about my childhood that i would change given the option. certainly anyone who witnessed my backstage life during major barbara knows some of the wounds that i feel so deeply they just can't seemed to be erased. but i am eternally grateful for the time and energy that my brother, but especially my dad, has invested into my life.

when date days ended, the time did not. in high school, he was the beloved advisor of the Future Business Leaders of America, which surprisingly enough, i was president of. he would volunteer for field trips as often as any mom. and to this day, when i call home, he is just as anxious to hear about my life as my mom is.

i write about all this because tonight my daddy took me out on a date. its something he makes an effort to do each time i come home. because of work, my breaks are often spent largely with my mother, so he tries to schedule a special time for just the two of us. this was particularly important to him this break, as it always is when i begin dating someone. he uses the date as excuse to hear all about "my new beau" and what he's like and what i like about him and what he does and what he wants out of life . . . but most importantly, how he's treating his most beautiful princess. joel, of course, passed with flying colors. but that's really not the point. it's important for a daughter to know that no matter how old she gets, her daddy still is looking out for her, trying to protect her.

dad, i know you don't read blogs and i'm quite positive you don't even know about mine. but in case you'd ever find it, i want you to know that i love and adore you and the man that you are, particularly the man that you've become. i will always be your little princess.