Being a daddy’s girl is cute when you are three-years old. You are learning about the world and enjoying how our daddy introduces new things.
Here I am, a grown-ass woman, still proclaiming that I am a daddy’s girl. A lot has changed because I left home. I’ve rejected many of the lessons I learned as a child, had my own experiences, wandered down paths that had dead ends. But, daddy was always there to chat with me. I never talked about me dancing until the early morning at the at gay clubs on Cedar Springs in Dallas, Texas, leaving full of shots and well drinks then comforting myself with sausage gravy smothering thick buttered Texas Toast. Neither were there conversations about my worries about making ends meet although I had a full-time day job and part-time night job.
The conversations were about my car. Was it running well? Gas mileage, need for repairs. It was how daddy asked me if I was doing well.
My relationship with Daddy changed when I started embracing my intuition and spiritual abilities. For about weeks I was getting feelings to ask Daddy about his own intuition. Thanksgiving 2014 we talked as usual, but I felt inclined to ask about his abilities again. I couldn’t ignore the feeling. Just before we hung up, I interjected with, “Tell me about your spiritual abilities.” He asked me for clarification and after I did Daddy presented me with a flood of knowledge and experience. He communicated with his mother and father. Grandma showed up when he was sad; Granddad when he was sick. There were also earthbound spirits living in Daddy’s house. He told them they didn’t have to leave, but they were not allowed to bother his friends and family. Daddy saw spirits at his job, too.
We talked about reincarnation, life reviews, soul lessons. The younger brother of my first sister-in-law was shot and killed at age fourteen in 2004. I thought maybe my nephew, who was going to be born in 2006, was a reincarnation. The younger brother showed up in a dream. He was in a contemporary designed bathroom, standing before a round mirror. He was wearing a fluffy white robe. A white light was shining from above. It was bright and seemed to illuminate the young brother. He turned around, looked at me and said, “No!” I shared this with Daddy and he started telling me how the younger brother had not spent enough time in the afterlife to come back yet. I was elated. My dad is a natural psychic medium.
Daddy was very supportive of me developing my spiritual abilities. I asked him why he didn’t mention his own abilities. He said that he thought he was the only one on the planet who had these experiences. One of his sisters could see spirits with her bare eyes. Daddy said the thought was weird. I reminded him how he could see and hear spirits and talked to them. He laughed.
Needless to say, my relationship with Daddy changed. I had someone in my family tree who I could share my own experiences with and not worry about being judged.