Camouflage

Saying my father’s name to most people in my father’s country brings about a flurry of respect for the man he was.

But I am just his daughter.

I have done nothing but carry his name with me throughout my life and this gives me pause

because

I am just his daughter.

My family history is filled with so many colorful tales of the greatness my father achieved and I rode along on his coattails basking in the glory that was him. Leaving because of the coup, I never had a chance to be anything

but

just his daughter.

And still… knowing what my father’s name means to many people, I feel like I have something to live up to now that he’s gone; and even before then, though I did nothing about it. Though I still do nothing about it. I haven’t been back to my father’s country since I was 5 years old, but they know me… 35 years later, they know my name. To them, I have descended from greatness, but to me

I am just his daughter.

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Writing101 Day9; Camouflage

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