What If I Stumble…Without My Father There to Support Me?

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What If I Stumble…Without My Father There to Support Me?
By Mandi Castle
Updated: Feb. 19, 2021
Originally Published: November 28, 2005

“I’m scared, Dad.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, my dear.”
“What if I stumble?”
“I’m here for you. I won’t let you falter.”

As a determined little girl, I always pursued my goals fiercely. The thrill of riding my bike without training wheels beckoned me, and I convinced my father to teach me. Although he suggested I practice a bit more with the training wheels, I flashed my pleading hazel eyes, knowing he wouldn’t resist. Just a few hours later, I was gliding down the street alone, wind tousling my stringy blonde hair. “Dad, look! I’m doing it!”

Fast forward a few years…

“I’m scared, Dad.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of, my dear.”
“What if I stumble?”
“I’m right here. I won’t let you fall.”

Every Sunday after church, my dad took me skating, but our tradition began with ice cream. He favored French vanilla on a cake cone, while I opted for a chocolate scoop on a sugar cone. We would sit together, enjoying our treats amidst the sweet aroma of our beloved ice cream shop. Then, it was off to the rink. My father was a pro at skating backwards, effortlessly gliding and spinning. I longed to skate alongside him, but fear held me back. With his patient guidance, I learned to skate backwards, and by the end of the day, I felt I could finally accept Kyle’s invitation to skate.

A few years down the line…

“I’m scared, Dad.”
“There’s nothing to fear, my dear.”
“What if I stumble?”
“I’m here for you. I won’t let you fall.”

On my wedding day, I stood in an elegant ivory gown, hair perfectly styled and makeup flawless, hidden behind a spiral staircase, overwhelmed with fear about walking down the aisle. My father’s presence was a calming force. He held my trembling hand and reassured me, “Walk slowly. Let everyone see how beautiful you are.” I didn’t carry flowers; that wasn’t my style. Locking one arm through his, we walked confidently down the aisle, heads held high.

He helped me navigate through all my fears. He was there when I lost friends, attending their funerals with me. He comforted me through heartbreaks, wrapping his arms around me as I cried. Even when I was older, he still held my hand while crossing the street or wandering the mall. His hands, though not large, were strong and warm—they felt like home.

A few years later…

“I’m scared, Dad.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of… ahem… nothing to fear, my dear.” I could sense his struggle to remain strong.

Sadly, I know this time is different. He can’t soothe my fears this time. He can’t alleviate my anxiety. He can’t protect me from my worries.

Cancer.

Now, it’s my turn to be the pillar of strength. But how do I do that? The thought of reaching out my hand and not finding his to hold is unbearable.

I’m scared, Dad.
What if I stumble?
What if I stumble?
What if I stumble?

This article was originally published on November 28, 2005.

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