A Dad’s Love For His Daughter

If you had to get a tattoo right now,

I wouldn’t have to think about it.

I already know.

I would have my daddy’s  handwriting tattooed on me.

And I know exactly what it would say:

“I love you, my daughter. Stay safe. It’s a cruel, cruel world.”

Those were his words.

Every time I would leave, my daddy would tell me he loved me, and then he would tell me to stay safe.

It’s a cruel, cruel world.

He always said cruel twice.

I can still hear him saying it.

It wasn’t pessimism. At least, that’s not how I understood it.

It was a father’s worry tucked inside a warning.

He knew he couldn’t follow me everywhere.

He couldn’t protect me from everything.

So when I walked out the door, he sent what he could with me:

His love.

His warning.

His hope that his daughter would make it home safely.

And now I have those exact words in his handwriting.

Not a font made to look like it.

Not my memory of how he wrote.

His handwriting.

There is something about handwriting that feels different after you lose someone.

Those lines were made by their hand.

The way a letter curves. The space between words. The places where the pen pressed harder against the paper.

They are tiny physical remnants of a person who was here.

So if someone told me I had to sit down today and choose a tattoo, there would be no searching through designs.

No scrolling through ideas.

No wondering what symbol best represented my daddy.

I’d already have it.

I’d give the tattoo artist his words and ask them not to change a thing.

Because I wouldn’t really be getting a tattoo.

I’d be carrying forward something my daddy gave me over and over again while he was here.

Every time I walked out the door:

I love you, my daughter.

Love first.

Always love first.

And then:

Stay safe. It’s a cruel, cruel world.

Daddy, I can’t hear you say it when I walk out the door anymore.

So I’d put your words in your handwriting on my skin.

And wherever this life takes me, you’d still get to send your daughter out into the world the way you always did—

with your love,

your warning,

and a little piece of you coming with me.

I’ll be careful, Daddy.

I love you, too.?