Punishment

When we got in trouble, which wasn't uncommon, Dad would send us to our rooms.  After we had spent some time in our rooms calming down, he would tell us we could come out.  He would always hold us in his lap, say how much he loved us and that he was sorry that he had to punish us.  These were some of the times that I most felt how much he loved me.  I knew that he really felt bad about punishing me, and that he did it for my own good.  This sequence happened every time I got in trouble with one exception.  I don't know why he didn't come get me this one time.  He probably got busy with something around the house.  I remember sitting in my room waiting for him to come say he loved me and to comfort me, but he never came.  I kept waiting and waiting and was crushed when he didn't come.  Him not coming was worse than the original punishment.  I hesitate to share this experience because I worry that it casts a bad light on Dad when my intent is completely the opposite.  I share this experience to show that I came to expect constant love and words of comfort from Dad because that is what he nearly always provided.