She's five years old.
She fills her days with dolls and princesses and dresses and the color pink. She goes to school with the innocent joy of a kindergarten child, coming home each day to the arms of Mommy and a warm snack and cold cup of juice. She colors in her book of princesses, filling the black and white spaces with various shades of pinks and blues and golds. After coloring, she watches TV, or plays on her swing set. Most days, she plays with her dolls.
Her dolls are her favorite. She dresses them up and does their hair. The dolls are always waiting for her; they can't dress themselves, just like she waits for Mommy to pick out her clothes in the morning. After her dolls are dressed, she takes them on trips. Sometimes, they go to the beach, but then they have to be quiet. Mommy doesn't know about the secret ocean in the bathtub, that's a secret she's only shared with Daddy.
Every day, Daddy comes home and scoops her in his arms. He's the one to give her dessert after dinner, and he's the one to tuck her in at night. He gives her a kiss every morning before he leaves. Every day he leaves for work, but it's alright.
Daddy always comes back.
She dreams of being a princess. She dreams of a castle, built with white stones and touching the sky. In every dream, she's always rescued by her knight in shining armor. He's tall and strong, the strongest man she's ever known. He slays dragons, rescues princesses, makes omelettes every Saturday—nothing is impossible for her hero. He never misses a tea party. Sometimes, he even brings Mommy. She's sad when he leaves, but he always comes back. Daddy always comes back.
She's twelve years old.
She fills her days with tears and sadness and friends and the color black. Every day is a struggle; every day is pain. She misses her Daddy. She knows he'll come back one day, but it still hurts so much. She's too young to understand words like "cardiac arrest," but she knows that’s why Daddy's gone.
She prays every night for Daddy. She asks the Lord if he can come home for Christmas, or her birthday. She would give up candy and dolls for a whole year if Daddy could just come home for Christmas. She heard Jesus promise her one night, right before she fell asleep, that Daddy was ok. He told her that Daddy would come back, like he always did. Daddy always comes back.
She dreams of being a princess. She dreams of a castle, grand and magnificent and painted in the sky. In every dream, she's always rescued by her knight in shining armor. He's forgiving and vengeful at the same time, instilling both fear and love into her trembling heart. He's her Savior, cloaked in white and covering her with redeeming grace. He brings back Daddy. Every night, she sees him in her fragile dreamland. Every night, he comes back. Daddy always comes back.
She's twenty years old.
She fills her days with college and jobs and boys and the color blue. His eyes are blue. Blue as the ocean. They remind her of her Daddy's eyes. It makes her sad to think about Daddy; he would've loved the woman she has become, and the man she's going to marry. He's funny and smart and caring; he's perfect. She used to think that no man would ever love her again like Daddy did; she knew she'd never love anyone that much again.
But somehow, he's changed her mind. She feels better and happier than she's felt since she lost her Daddy. Now, she has him. He can never replace Daddy, but he gives her hope that one day, she will see her Daddy again. He'll come back. Daddy always comes back.
She dreams of being a princess. She dreams of a castle, filled with family and flowers and wedding bells. In every dream, she's always rescued by her knight in shining armor. He's handsome—so handsome it takes her breath away. He loves her. He loves her so much, and it makes her think of how much Daddy always loved her. Because of him, she is complete. Because of him, she feels the same glowing feeling she used to get from Daddy. She knows he'll come back. Daddy always comes back.
She's eighty-three years old.
She fills her days with nurses and medical bills and goodbyes and the color white. White are the sheets, the bonds that keep him held down, that keep him away from her. She can't lose him, not like she lost her Daddy all those years ago.
She loves him. She loves the man lying in front of her more than anyone else in the world. She loves him even as he lays still, pain dulling his eyes. She loves him for being a stronger man than the cancer slowly taking over his body. She loves him for being a better husband than she deserved. She loves him for being the Daddy of her little girl.
On the other side of the hospital bed, she watches her daughter wipe a tear away. She knows what her daughter is going through. She takes her hand and promises that it will all be ok. They watch as his breathing slows, and doctors and nurses begin scrambling about the room. She holds her daughter tight. For the second time in her life, she watches a man she loves slip away. The only words she can find to comfort her daughter manage to escape.
"Daddy always comes back."
She dreams of being a princess. She dreams of a castle, familiar and warm and full of everyone she loves. In every dream, she sees them again. She sees her Daddy, and she sees her husband. Two men she's loved more than anything or anyone else. Her Daddy always tells her how proud of her he is, and her husband always looks down upon the earth with her, and tells her how proud of their little girl he is. And she's happy again. Her Daddy came back. Daddy always comes back.
But this time, as she meets her Daddy, her husband, and her Savior at the white castle, she isn't dreaming anymore.