Daddy's Little Girl

16 October 2003

My father (henceforth to be referred to as Daddy) suffered from adult onset diabetes. One of the consequences of his diabetes was that he became completely blind not too long after I was born. My father loved books. (And now you know where I got it from) So that he could continue to enjoy them, he signed up for a program that sent books on record and tape and a player that I seem to recall would play both. Anyway. One of my fondest memories from my childhood was sitting in the living room with Daddy listening to Daddy's books. And he had the coolest taste in genres. Big on Sci-Fi and fantasy, and mysteries and classics. He also listened to NPR. I think that, at least in part, my fondness for audio books and radio programs stems from this. I think that my....audio sensitivity (not really the word I'm looking for but it will do) in general came about through my attempts as a child to relate to and participate in his world--a world of sound. Big sound, little sound, good sound, bad sound, it all is important. It all shapes the framework of my world. So even though he died nearly 2 decades ago (my god, has it really been that long?), he still influences the way I relate to the larger world. I think that I relate to the larger world visually as well because, in part, I wanted to see things for him. To experience the beauty of creation, the dazzling lights, the deep shadows, colors and forms. I hoped that he could relate to those things through me. I'm not sure how successful I was. There are times I wish he could have seen his little girl growing up, could have lived to see her graduate from college. But then I think, if he had not been ill, had not lost his sight, we would not have had those times together. So, most of the time, I would not have traded my childhood for any other.

I loved my Daddy, and I miss him terribly.

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Daddy's Little Girl

16 October 2003