January 28th 1987

My Mom and Dad have told me the same stories each year on my birthday.

Dad: You were born early in the morning when it was still dark outside. The second that you were born it started to snow and it was the angels crying. They were crying because they lost you.

Mom: Jessica was my smallest child, 8 pounds and 1 once. She was my chubby chametti and when her brother and sister came to visit her at the hospital Tyler came up to me and said, "Mom, I like your baby.". When I asked Liz what we should name you she replied, "Barbie.".

This birthday was a little hard for me. Every year I cry but this year I cried because I am no longer able to be reckless and not be held for my actions. All and all, I had an amazing day and spent it with my close family and friends.

I want to change the subject for just a second. I know that my blog name could be very, very misleading. I would like to explain the reasoning why I chose "The Daughter Who Grew Up Without A Father".

I feel like most of the mistakes I've made in regards to men doesnt have to do with my dad treating me poorly because thats just the opposite. I am one lucky lady to have a father like mine. Yes, he wasnt around much growing up but I didnt know any different. My parents got a divorce when I was 2 so growing up I thought that it was only a mother and her grandparents. I didnt spend time with my dad but he was always loving towards me.

The Daughter Who Grew Up Without A Father is more in reference to not being comfortable around men because my dad wasnt there. Its really hard for me to think of my future and a man being the head of the house hold. I get uneasy when a guy wants to do simple things for me like: pay for dinner, take me to a movie or pay for anything. I am extremely insecure around men because I only really had my grandpa in my life until I was around 13.

If my daddy ever reads this and gets his feelings hurt from the title, I am sorry. It is not my intention and I hope the meaning will help more of you understand as well. My dad is always there for me and I turn to him, more often then my mama, for comforting. He is so kind hearted and soft, willing to lend a hand and I can tell how much he cherishes me from the look in his eyes. He never fails to tell me how proud he is of me and is as protective as a mama bear. He tells me when we go out he has to glare at all the men starting at me.

One memory I will hold dear to my heart:

When I was 16 I was diagnosed with a rare type of lymphoma and had to come up to the huntsman cancer center for treatment.

They took a large lump out from underneath my tongue and cut the lymph out of my neck. I had to be hospitalized for a week or so afterwards. I was in and out of consciousness from all the medication I soaking up. One night I remember fighting to wake myself up when a warm, large hand tucked underneath mine and held it so tight. After what seemed years to crack my eye open I saw my handsome father with head sunk down, weeping. He lifted his head to see my heavy eye lids sliding open and he whispered, "I love you, Jessica.". A smile formed on my lips and I fell fast asleep again feeling surrounded with love.

When I woke back up, he was gone but laying next to me was a black stuffed animal. Thinking my encounter was a dream, this was confirmation that it was reality because my papa is notorious for gifting stuff animals.

To this day I do not leave town without my "dog". He is a constant reminder of the deep, undying love my father has for me and from that night on I never questioned his love.

I love you daddy. You are the best and my life would be incomplete without you. Never question your past because it all happened for a reason and I am indebted to whomever brought you to this earth and made me your daughter.

Next time: stupid shit devin did in the bedroom....