4,929 Days and Counting

I’ve known my 24-year-old daughter longer than my 27-year-old daughter.

How is it possible that I’ve known my 24-year-old daughter longer than my 27-year-old daughter?

My 27-year-old is still alive and well.

Or so I’ve been told from my younger daughter.

I am proud of and love both of my daughters.

However, August 12, 2007, was the last time I saw my oldest.

To this day, I still don’t know why.

But let me take you back.

My daughters are two of the blessings from my first marriage, which ended in divorce in 2002.

Growing up, my daughters and I were very close. I was their world.

I doted on my girls whenever I wasn’t working at one of my two jobs.

They were my world — the way any loving father would feel.

And then…divorce

The marriage seemingly never had a chance because it was not built on a firm foundation.

Although my older daughter denies it, I remember quite vividly the day my ex-wife and I went into her and her sister’s room and told her.

She was devastated. She cried and cried. “NOOOOOOOO!”

We tried to assure her that it was going to be all right. That she and her sister would get to spend time over at my apartment.

Seeing her like this broke my heart.

Divorce sucks.

It wasn’t until after we broke the news to her that I fully understood why God hates it so much. It just causes so much pain.

Especially for the kids.

In August 2002, I moved out of our rental house and into a one-bedroom apartment. The girls stayed with their mother.

Shortly afterward, I filed for divorce, which became final in November 2002.

The day I moved out, my daughters tagged along to help me set up my new apartment. They didn’t appear to show any signs that this would affect them, but what did I know?