Yesterday I saw a picture of my husband as a baby. I was touched at how much Sadie looks like her Daddy. The curls, the nose, the cheeks. It made me sad that the person that had the picture will never know, by choice, how much her son’s daughter resembles her son. I can’t address that directly so I am going to address it here. It won’t be shared but it will make me feel better.
To those that have elected to ignore Sadie’s existence:
It is your loss that you will never know how my daughter’s hair curls in ringlets at the back of her head. You’ll never get to see those ringlets bounce as she bounds across the floor to launch herself into your sons arms when he gets home from work. It is such a shame that you will never hear that sweet, sweet voice yell, “Daddy” or hear the love in your son’s voice as he answers, “Sadie!” There is nothing more special than Sadie’s hugs. Your life will be less rich because you will never feel those fat little arms wrapping around your neck or feel that warm breath on your neck as she nuzzles into your neck. What a shame that those adorable heart-shaped lips will never pucker to give you one of the many wet, juicy kisses that we get each and every day. You share the same last name but you’ll never laugh as you hear her say, “Pud-da-ahl” and then cheer. Why won’t she ever know that she has grandparents on her daddy’s side? Because you’ve chosen to ignore that she exist. You played with your dogs, made trips to Wal-mart and made weekly trips to the vet and the groomers but you never once called while your granddaughter was in an incubator, attached to tubes in the NICU. There were no calls of support to your son or comfort offered. She runs with her fat arms churning even faster than her chubby legs. She toddles around with one shoe on and her right foot barefoot. All the time. Little Sadie is shaped just like her Daddy. She is pure light, pure joy and she is all heart. She has a belly laugh that makes anyone around her chuckle. Tought 90% sweet she has a quick temper that usually involves a fist but 2 seconds later she caresses your check and says, “saw-wee” all on her own. At night your son tucks her. She yells, “bye daddy” over and over and over again until her voice gets softer and softer and softer. When she is tired she sucks her thumb. At 2 she is just starting to play with dolls. ABC’s are sung as she prances around the house. 5:30 is her meltdown time and she just wants to be “up peas”. Her heroes are her Bubba who rushes outside every afternoon when we get home to get her out of the car and her Ninny who reads to her and plays with her. Her biggest hero and her first love are her Daddy and rightfully so as he is the most patient, big-hearted, caring soul she will ever meet.
And you don’t know any of this. Why? Because you hate the name Sadie? Really? Because you prefer to lie and slander your son’s family to all your other children but don’t have to courage or the moral fortitude to talk to your son directly. In a way I am glad Sadie will never know you. I want her to be strong and truthful-not cowardly and weak. She’ll never know you as grandparents. That is your choice. But don’t be fooled into thinking it’s your win. You lose. You are missing out on so very, very much and she is missing out on nothing.