My FATHER took his life on February 7th, 2000 when I was a little over one-year-old. At the time, my older brother was a little over two and my mom was twenty. Whether his intentions were good or bad, I do not know. All I know is that he was selfish. Selfish because he left his family to fend for themselves. Selfish because he left his beautiful wife and two children behind. I used to wonder what life would be like if he were still here… I’ve heard stories of all the good and bad things my father did in his short lifetime. He was only twenty-one when he perished from the Earth. Sometimes I wish he was still alive just so I could decide for myself what kind of man he really was. He neglected to think of how his children would grow up without a father. As a father you have certain duties.... He was supposed to attend father daughter dances with me, chase off boys who didn’t stand a chance, teach me how to fish and hunt, and walk me down the aisle at my wedding. When I was younger, I used to sit in a corner and pray. In my prayer I would ask God to make my father listen to me. I would tell him how hurt he made me feel inside and how I wished he was still on Earth. A part of me hated my father for taking his life but another part of me never wanted anyone else to try and take his place.
My DAD came into my life on February 2nd, 2002. At this time, I was a little over three-years-old with no clue who this strange man was. Little did I know that this man would still be in my life today. Throughout my childhood me and my dad bonded. I feel like I knew he wasn’t my father but I never really put two-and-two together. All I knew was that he was nice and I loved him. My dad took me to beauty pageants, the Cleveland County Fair, the Renaissance Festival, and everything else I wanted to do. When I got older and the teenage years hit, a feeling of hatred and confusion washed over me. I’m not sure if it was just teenage girl hormones or the fact that he wasn’t my father but I began to push my dad away. I guess I loved him so much that I was mad he wasn’t my father. My mom used to tell me how grateful I was to have such a good dad. Through the good times and bad times, he never stopped trying and he certainly never gave up on our family. My mom made a comment one day that changed my perspective forever… she said “Honey, he may not be your father but he is your dad and he’s a darn good one too.” This really dawned on me over the years. I began to really start to understand and appreciate how blessed I was to have such a wonderful person in my life to finally mend the pieces of our family. You will never take my father’s place… because you don’t have too. You have your own. I love you.
Dear DAD,
Thank you for always being there for me and teaching me right from wrong. I’ll never forget the many times I called you from school crying because I left my homework at home, I left my shoes that I needed for gym class, or I forgot money that I needed in order to go on a field trip. You always answered my calls the first time I called and you immediately left work to come and tend to my needs. You are always so eager and willing to make sure I have the best of the best. Even though your jokes are not funny, life wouldn’t be the same without them. Me: “Dad, my leg hurts.” Dad: “Maybe your leg would feel better if you did the dishes... LOL” I think that you’ve learned over the years to tread lightly around the women of the family especially when we’re hungry or tired… with that being said, thanks for always letting me pick the restaurant when we go to dinner. You have made me love Cracker Barrel, Catfish Cove, the Mount Holly Grill, and Grits N Greens. I love your totally awkward sock tan that goes halfway up your calf and your work uniform that you wear 24/7. Nobody could pull off Khaki shorts and an orange t-shirt like you do. Thank you for teaching me manners and how to be a lady. You are such a huge part of the woman that I have become and I wouldn’t be here without you. Thanks for everything you do for me. I love you so much dad.
