I Have A Daughter

I was watching the movie “Palmer” and it made me think of my daughter, Isabel Drehobl.

I have a daughter, but she is not biologically mine. She doesn’t resemble me in any way—neither my hair, my race, nor my skin color. She doesn’t share my last name or call me “Dad”. Instead, I am always called “Wiwey”. I told her, “You are the only one who can call me that”, but I know it means the same thing. I’ve been around her since she was very small, raising her off and on, and that must have been enough because of the wonderful woman she has turned out to be.

I have a daughter who is part of the LGBTQ community. She sees the good in everyone and loves unconditionally. I realized this one day when a friend of hers with a learning disability came over. Her mother asked, “What is wrong with them?” and my daughter replied, “What?” That’s when I knew she understood unconditional love—there are no disabilities, no colors, no genders, and no boundaries in her heart.

I was always there to attend her musicals and theater performances, and I was there when trouble arose. I painted rooms purple or pink, smelled the different shampoos in her hair, played endless board games, and sang along in the car. I watched her parade new outfits and even bought a few myself, always picking things I thought she would like. I have good taste. I even buried her cat when it was hit by a car. When I got the call, I rushed over; it was in the street across from her house. She hugged me for what I did, expressing her love through tears with an “I love you, Wiwey.” Only she can call me that.

I have a daughter who was once labeled as challenged, but she graduated from school and went on to college. In high school, she said, “No one ever told me I was labeled that.” I replied that she didn’t need to know because no one has the right to put labels on you. What others think doesn’t matter—if you believe their labels, it will hold you back from achieving your destiny.

My daughter moved away. She was scared but realized she had to leave the nest to be with people who see the world as she does. She said, “I am with my peeps.” I met some of her peeps, and they are as loving as she is. They are the misfits and outcasts of communities who possess more intelligence and character than those who mock them. The simple-minded individuals who remain enclosed by their prejudices are educated by Facebook and propaganda.

The best compliment I ever heard was when she spoke to a friend about meeting me. She said, “My parents are not like that. They love everyone unconditionally.” At that moment, I realized just how much she had taught me. I would always joke with her about earning her, “Sister Card”. You earned it kid. You earned it.