She hath wings

When I was growing up, I knew from a very young age that I was super sensitive. Words hurt me or built me up with incredible ease on both accounts. I would mull over what was said, trying to squeeze every inch of meaning out of the words. I would analyse until I could go no further. Sometimes it took me down a very lonely road; there were times when I felt that nobody cared. Other times, I would soar on the wings of elation for weeks after a beautiful comment was made.

Few words have meant more to me than those of my father. If Dad said it was going to be okay, I relaxed. If Dad said something looked good, I believed him. If Dad said something was worthwhile, I pursued it, or felt guilty for not having looked into it at least. He stopped me from making many careless decisions, all with his words.

This week I had cause to thank him for helping me buy the most expensive pair of shoes I have ever owned. All in the name of helping my very sore feet. We had planned to go halves, but when the cost was a lot more than we hoped, he still only asked for the agreed amount from me. I wrote Dad “Thankyou xo” and I received a most unexpected beautiful reply…

“No thank you for the privelege of being your dad”.
I will walk for many a mile with the cushioning of those sweet words.

18.2.20