Daddy-like Love

This is something I wrote in December that I thought would be fitting for this blog. It's about the way my husband loves me. Here it is:

Daddy-like Love

I love the way it feels when my husband takes care of me. Sometimes, he dries my hair after I take a shower. Yesterday morning, he held me in his lap before he left for work. Last night, he gently placed the blankets over my feet again when he realized they were sticking out from under the covers. When I thanked him for doing it this morning, he just smiled at me and said, “Can’t let the monsters get at your feet.”

Just before I met my husband, I realized I needed to marry a man who would take care of me. That was a pretty big realization for me, because not too long ago, I envisioned a husband as someone who would fill the rolls of lover, friend, provider, protector, father to our children, and head of our household. Sure, I thought he’d be a care provider, but to our children…in the future. Not to me, unless, of course, I was sick.

For some reason, I didn’t think it was right to want him to gently brush my hair, to hold me like I was his little girl, or to tuck me into bed. It would all be too corny and mushy for him to do that stuff for me, and I’d be too old for that, wouldn’t I? If he acted like that toward me, he’d be acting like a father, and that wouldn’t be right, would it?

Deep down, I wanted it. I wanted a man who would cherish me and see me as something delicate, something precious and small. I wanted a man who would love me like a father.

I pushed those desires away, though. Part of the reason I did so was because, growing up, my mom was always saying how much she hated it when my step-dad treated her like a child. Although I now think she was referring to the times when he made her feel restricted and put down on a level lower than he was, I didn’t understand it at the time. I knew that he frequently called her “kiddo” and “sweet pea,” and I often saw him show love to her that was fatherly at times, so I thought these were the things she was talking about when she said he treated her like a child. Although I’m sure she didn’t mean for it to happen, her comments sent the message to me that wives are not to be treated like children by their husbands…not in any way whatsoever. Not even in their love.

The other part of the reason I smothered my desires was because, in many ways, I grew up not knowing a real father’s love. My dad died when I was only four years old, and sadly, I don’t remember much of our time together. Yes, I did have a step-dad for many years, and I did know that he loved me. Because he was my step-dad, though, and not my biological father – not my daddy, he didn’t offer me or my sisters that kind of love I see daddies giving their daughters. He didn’t put flowers in my hair, he didn’t kiss me goodnight, and he didn’t dry me off in a big fuzzy towel after giving me bubble baths. I’m actually glad he didn’t do some of those things, because I was already out of my toddlerhood when he and my mom married, and I didn’t really know him that well at first. You see, I’m not blaming my step-dad for not offering me more examples of this kind of fatherly love; I’m simply saying that I didn’t get it really get it from him.

So I thought I missed the train. I thought, too bad for me. Some people get to experience this type of love on Earth and some people don’t. I guess I’m just one of those who don’t. Sure, I knew I could experience this love from God, my heavenly father, but from my husband? A husband has a different title than a father for a reason, I thought. They perform different roles. They provide different kinds of love.

As I often do, I held even the idea of experiencing such a blessing far from myself. Even though my heart beat faster and my eyes filled with tears of longing at the mere thought of it all, it just seemed too good to be true. Yes, I knew I would marry a man, but I didn’t expect to receive the love I’ve never experienced from him. It wasn’t his place or his responsibility.

Somehow, though, through months of dating the man who would become my husband, and through experiencing life with him as my husband, God has proven those past notions wrong, wrong, and wrong again. He’s helped me to understand that it’s okay, and better yet – good, for me to accept this kind of love from my husband. I didn’t even ask my husband to love me this way, he simply did, and it feels so amazing and so right.

I can only hope that all women get to feel this kind of love from their husbands.