I have always been a daddy’s girl

I have always been a daddy’s girl. Even at a very young age I would sit on my daddy’s lap and want to be the center of his attention.

I didn’t have to work hard at being a daddy’s girl. Others could tell I had daddy rapped around my little finger and could get anything I wanted.

I was your typical little girl with long brunette hair and kept it tied back it either a pony tail or pig tails. It was soft as silk and flowed down my back to my bubble butt.

My eyes matched the color of my hair and when I smiled I had two deep dimples on either side of my cheeks and people always held my chin, lifting my head back and said things like, “you are as cute as a little bug,” and I would gush with pride and look at my dad and he would always look at me with his warm smile of approval.

When I reached my teen years I sure received my share of looks from boys and grown men alike. I had lost my “baby” fat and filled out in all the right places with nice sexy curves. I still didn’t have much in the way of boobs but they were still developing.

I was never embarrassed about my body and usually moved around the house scantly clothed when it was just Mom, Dad and me at home. I realized early on the fewer clothes I wore caused my Dad to look in my direction when I entered the room.

I was close to my mother and we had a great mother-daughter relationship and people were always saying I was the younger version of my mother because I took after her with looks and having a similar body build.

I clearly remember the day in High School, as if it were yesterday that my Aunt Julie came to the School to take me home. My mother had taken a flight back to Illinois to care for my Grandmother, who had recently fallen and broke her hip, so I was expecting my father to pick me up but here was my Aunt instead.

It was clear from the red eyes of my Aunt that she had been crying and was full of pain that she had something dreadful to tell me but wanted to wait until we were alone. I didn’t know what to make of it but I sensed I was not going to like what my Aunt had to tell me.

When we reach her car she didn’t bother to start the vehicle but turned sideways in the seat and looked deep into my eyes. I could see tears welling in her eyes and pain was all over her face. Her chin was quivering with the news she was about to share with me.

She started slow, “Kim, you know your mother took a flight this morning to go care for your Grandmother right?” I nodded my head acknowledging her question. She continued, “We don’t have many details yet…..” She paused. I reached over and touched her hand to comfort her. I thought something had happened to Grandmother.

After a long silence my Aunt made another attempt to start again. “There was a smaller aircraft that somehow………” She went silent again and my mind was starting to put the puzzle together that the dreaded news was not about my Grandmother but my Mother.

My Aunt said something about a smaller aircraft being on the wrong runway and there was a collision with my mother’s flight and it didn’t look like there were any survivors…….

I felt my ears go hot. My head began throbbing and I don’t remember much more after that which was said.

My father had immediately upon receiving news about mom’s flight had boarded the next available flight to Illinois.

I remained in my room crying and praying that this was all a bad dream and I would soon wake up.

Dad accompanied my mother’s body back home and we had a very nice funeral for her. I was in a daze and days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. I was in my own world hurting. I wasn’t even sure about the pain dad was experiencing.

I graduate High School but spent most of my time in my bedroom listening to music. Dad checked on me from time to time and we would sit and talk and he would hold me.