Writing My Wrongs

I rarely speak of my family and I wasn't today but...I received an email from my daddy....and Mother's Day coming up...thought it relevant to speak on my family today.

My dad just got back from Tibet on Tuesday. He's always going away to far away countries, coming back with wonderful tales about his journey. My daddy is the type of person that always has the right word for the right sentence for the right message at the right time. He's very descriptive and because he's a risk taker and lover of life...he always has some major adventure to talk about. His stories always have great detail...I don't see how he rememebers all that stuff...as I can never remember what I said a half hour ago. Alzheimers runs on my grandfathers side of the family...I hope that it passes us by. Because my daddy has lived a good life and it would be horrible if he were to forget any minute of it.

My mother and father got a divorce when I was one years old. I lived with my daddy all my life up until I got married in 1991. When I left my husband back in 2000...I went back to live with my daddy (for awhile).

I can not rememeber a time when my daddy hasn't been there for me, encouraging me and telling me how proud he was of me. I grew up with alot of love in my home.

Now...I kid about it all the time but I truely believe my dad wanted a boy. I say this because...I didn't play with Barbie dolls, no easy-oven quick bake things, no stuffed animals and I was harldy ever dressed with ribbons and bows.
Me? I had a softball mit, a bat, jeans and Chuck Taylors, marbles and slinky's, Nerf footballs and soccer balls. I hung out with my dad and all his friends... going camping, fishing, roadtrips, Sunday morning pick-up softball games in Resevoir park (for 7 years), skiing, hiking, helping to change brakes on my dads 3 Carmeingia's...I was his road-dog....his little homey...his shadow.

I rememebr the first year of "school"...it was a head-start program in Salt Lake (I was born on my "indian" reservation in Utah, my dad went to Weber University...so my first years are in Utah)... My dad was a political science major and while going to school he had a part-time job...
I say this to say, in all of my elementary schooling my dad has never worked more than 5-10 minutes away from my school (I suppose that's why I went to 7 elementary schools)...he always wanted to be close to me should something ever happen. Now, my dad had 9 brothers and sisters but when I came along (let them tell it), I became more important than anyone in his life and he counted on no one when it came to my well-being.
I would say it was a little unnecessary but it was all a learning experience once he had full custody of me at the age of 21, he was a young black man faced with having to bringing up a 1 year old daughter. We in a sense were growing up together.
Because of that...I am sure I experienced alot of things that I am sure he would have never exposed me to, had he been older. Yet, my daddy was and still does have the philosophy of "life is to be lived not watched from the sidelines" and "don't be a spectator in life...be a player", so every journey he went on...I was there as his little shadow to see it as well.

I never really understood the hype behind being this man's daughter...or who he really was at that time, in that place... he was always jsut my daddy...my protector and now my bestest friend.

My daddy was heavily into politics...the makings of laws, the injustices to those in need and the revolutionary ideas that he had and wanted to implement. It wasn't until I was an adult did I see him as something more that just my play-partner, my pain reliever, my money-tree, my boo-boo fixer...ect. He became a part of history.
In high school I was surprised to open up a history book in class and see my dads name in black in white and being taught about. Granted it was a paragraph or two...but all in all...who opens a history book in class and reads about their living father?

My father has always been there for me. From my first words, first walk, first day in school, first date, first boyfriend, my marriage, my divorce and even now from 3000 miles away I recieve an email from him this morning to let me know he is ok. He enjoyed his trip. He can't wait to visit me next month.

Slish asked me last night why I don't talk about my mother..or write a story about her.... my response was...

I don't have a story to tell.
The last time I saw her was 6 years ago...for an hour. Before that it was 10 years...for about an hour.

The only mother, father, sister, brother I've ever had or wanted was the one and only father I have. He's been all that I've ever needed. His love has covered me, wrapped me in comfort, covered me in security and has been all that I ever needed. I have always been proud of him and proud to be his daughter.

So all of my Mother's Day accolades have gone to the only mother I have...my father.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY DADDY!!!