Dear Zelda,

I know you don’t know me.  And the truth is that I haven’t known of you either.  Until this week that is, when news of your dad’s passing was announced and some of your heartfelt comments were printed. I especially loved reading your post about pigeons pooping on the washed cars of those who were sending negativity.  Your dad couldn’t have said it better!   

I have found myself deeply impacted by your dad’s loss these past few days, which only made my heart bleed for you because I know that a daughter’s greatest sense of her identity comes from her father. 

I am actually an advocate for dad-daughter relationships and I give dads tools to intentionally pursue their daughter’s hearts.  It is readily apparent that you had a deep heart connection with your dad.  If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to highlight a few of the beautiful things I’m hearing in your story.

What you can cling to, even in the midst of your grief, is that you have a forever deposit in the depths of your heart and soul because of your dad’s investment in you.  Death can’t ever take that away.  You can always rest in knowing that you were cherished deeply by the first man who ever held your heart. 

I loved reading that your dad’s last Instagram post was to you on your 25th birthday.  He wanted the world to know how much he loved you and how proud he was of you.  Clearly you have been given a gift that every daughter needs in order to thrive:  to be celebrated by her dad just for being alive.

I heard that earlier this year your dad was quoted as saying, "My children give me a great sense of wonder. Just to see them develop into these extraordinary human beings."

Your dad gave you another one of the greatest gifts a dad can ever give:  He enjoyed you and knew you were and are extraordinary.  I know that many have described your dad the same way.  Sounds to me, sweet Zelda, like the apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree.  

I enjoy exploring the origins of names.  Zelda means “female warrior.”  What a beautiful and powerful name you have.  I read that your dad named you after a princess.  Once again this is a forever reality that you carry regarding who you are, especially in your dad’s eyes.  You can always know that your dad viewed you as a strong beauty.  You were his princess from day one, meaning that it was never about anything you did or didn’t do but was about who you were to him.  So sweet.

I heard that your dad read the entire series of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe to you and your brothers.  I grew up reading those books too.  None better.  My favorite thing to hear was that you once asked your dad not to read the book with any silly voices but just his own.  When he did you told him that it was better that way.  You had a dad who listened to you and respected your voice.  That’s awesome!

Again, that is a gift that has forever been deposited into your life.  You’ll never settle for anything less in a man because your dad set the bar high in teaching you how a daughter should be treated by a man.  

Your dad left a delightful legacy in you.  And in the middle of your pain and loss I wanted to celebrate the incredible treasure that you are.  You will always be your dad’s little girl and you are his lasting legacy.

May your heart heal in ways that now can’t be fully comprehended.  And like you, I’ll try to keep looking up.

From one adult daughter to another....love, Michelle