"I just read your blog, honey."

He popped in on a Sunday afternoon.
My Dad was led up the stairs by Pepper.  He wore his Sunday best.

Willow Tree "My Girls"

"Grandpa's here!"

I shuffle into the living room in my Ugg boots and yoga pants.
"Hey Dad," I flop onto the couch, "what's up?"

He takes my hand.  He looks straight into me.
He pulls me up from the couch and gives me a long hug.
Something's amiss..

"I just read your blog, honey."

Air sucks in and I am vacuum packed against my seat.
Fight or flight response is pressing on my chest.
But I don't have to run.  I know this.

"Oh...the shower one?"
http://chrysalisbreak.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-longest-shower.html

"Yes, the shower one.  I needed to come see you.
I needed to tell you that it's ok.  My first response was shock, and then I just wanted to come straight here, and give you a hug."

Tears brim when he says this to me.
"You were the only one I was afraid to let read it."
I don't want to cry, but I do.  I want him to know me.
That blog was about rape, and I could share it with everyone else.
It is a true sign of healing, for me to share it with him.
My brain keeps trying to engage, to drive me far from this vulnerable moment.
It comes up with things to say.  Explanations.  Statistics.  No.
No.  Don't explain this away.  Stay here.  Let him see how you feel.
And I do.
"I was so afraid to share that with you, Dad.
But I wanted to give you a chance to know me, as an adult.
I was afraid to be tarnished.  I didn't want to hurt you."

"I know, honey.  And it's ok.  It doesn't change anything."

So much more was said, and yet few words were needed.

I wanted to say one thing, 
"Dad, I trust you enough to tell you the whole truth."

He wanted to say one thing,
 "Sarah, I love you no matter what is in your past."

Dad at our wedding giving us his blessing.