I miss my dad ....

So I have read all the posts on Facebook about dad ... I am missing mine pretty bad right now. I actually broke down in the car as we pulled into the driveway tonight. A familiar song came on the radio, a song that I had put on a CD for my dad a few years ago, a Cd that I made him for Father's Day and it was one of my favorites. What was the song you ask? Conway Twitty's "That's my Job". Thank God I had Frankie in the car to comfort me. That was the hardest that I had cried over my dad in awhile. I could hardly breathe. By reading this, one would assume that my dad is no longer in my life, that he has passed away... But that is not the case. My dad chooses to not speak to me. He chooses to not speak to his grandchildren, 2 of which he doesn't even know. He chooses to not speak to my granny, his mother, and I think THAT part hurts me more than anything. I think that I could endure the pain, and heartache... for the rest of my life, if he would just talk to Granny once again. You see it has been 2 years since I had a conversation with my dad, and that last conversation was not pleasant, there are parts of that conversation, etched into my memory. It was hurtful, HOWEVER, I can forgive, I am one of the most forgiving people that you would ever meet. I picture in my mind conversations with my dad, I think that we could pick up right where we left off at times. I would hope for that at least. When I went through my divorce my dad stopped talking to me. I hate that I was such a disappointment to him. I am happier, the older boys are happier. My previous marriage was toxic, my current relationship is a complete 360 from my previous. I have a man in my life who LOVES to spend time together as a family, a man who loves to laugh and have fun. I have a man in my life that loves my older children just as much as the twins that we share.
I remember many things about my childhood and growing up. Some of my fondest memories are the summers that I spent on the road with my dad. Dad drove a truck, and as soon as summer break began, I was ready to hit the open road with my dad. The life of the road, listening to bad language on the CB Radio, eating and sometimes showering in the grimy truck stops. Scoring thru the gift shops of said Truck stops. Waking up in the sleeper of the truck (even one had bunk beds) , dad yelling back at me when we were within a mile or so from crossing a state line, seeing distance thunderstorms in the Desert. Seeing the lights of the big cities, Vegas, the skyscrapers, off the course stops at Graceland, Disneyland and everywhere inbetween. IT IS THOSE MOMENTS that I hold the memories in my head and heart.
I text my dad occasionally, I email him. All in hopes for a response. One day - maybe I will break thru that wall he has built. One day I will tear that wall down. One day it will be a fabulous reunion in which it will be like old times, like there was never a pause in our relationship. One day... is what I hope for. Until that one day comes... I will be here on the outside of that wall - chipping away at it with my dull spoon, dropping hints to him via messages, whispering that I am still here. Still waiting , for him to be my daddy again.