Daddy issues...

So...alot of blogs have come out lately, addressing this notion of 'daddy issues' when it comes to women, how they live their lives and how their choice of companion is affected by this. (See this one)

Which of course, makes me reflect upon myself.

My parents were together for the first 7 years of my life.  Of course, being a young girl, I only saw what I wanted to see of my life, and at that point, school and cartoons made up most of my day.  I honestly do not remember most of that time, for whatever reasons, and that's fine with me.  Had there have been something scarring enough to have emblazoned itself on my memory, I'm sure it would have, so I am lead to believe that those 7 years were not so bad.

However, things must have been bad at some point, because when we were 7, mom packed up my brother and I and moved us across town.

Now, I am not going to sit here and say that daddy was never around, because that's just not true.  He came to visit, took us to see family, hung out with us...all kinds of things.  I never felt disconnected from my daddy.  He was my Superman!  Even when momma moved us 90 miles away, we still had our every other weekend visits with him, which was cool.  There was a custody battle that ensued, and because of it, every June 15 (for a few years straight) my brother and I moved from one parent's home to the other.  When I look back on it now, I actually liked that arrangement.  It was pretty cool with me.

While living with momma, I learned how to work hard, because as a single mom, that's what she did.  While living with daddy, I learned to cook and clean, and how to manage my money.  These are things that my paternal grandmother (my 'best friend' at the time) and my stepmother helped teach me as well.  I still never had the whole disconnect from my father.

Now that I am an adult, I totally see my father's influence on me, and my choices for relationships with men.  Glad to have almost always had him there, I knew what to look for in a mate, because of who he was, and who I loved him as.

• I know that I want someone who has begun to establish himself, but not yet at his peak.  I mean, let's be honest, I have 3 kids.  I need to know that you will be able to take care of us while I am doing that same for you.  This also leaves room for growth, since neither of us are at our peak.

• I know that I wouldn't mind him having children already, because my father taught me how to accept someone who already has their own, and how to blend a family.  This is important to me, since I am unable to have anymore myself.

• We must carry the same beliefs.  I have tried to stray from this in the past, only to find that it really does bring up ALOT more questions and issues than either one of us were ready for, and neither of us knew how to deal.

• I know that I must be submissive in certain instances, and that I am to be a support system, even when I do not agree completely with a decision that has been made. (And "I told you so" is NOT acceptable, because really, what help is that?)

Other things that I got from my father:

• Hiding my pains: while going through my bout with cancer, I only told a few people.  I don't know if anyone really knew how serious it was, but I know FOR SURE that my daddy didn't know.  By that time, he already had congestive heart failure, and I didn't need him having another heart attack on me.  Little did I know that he also was keeping a huge secret of his own...

• My spontaneity for travel:  I can hop on the road and take a trip anywhere, anytime.  As long as Ive got the fund and a working vehicle, (and my iPod, of course)

• Our love of music.  I don't think I need to expand on that one...

I am grateful to not have had to deal with 'daddy issues' like some others.  Though we didn't always live in the same home, I was never very far from mine.  Even as an adult, he stepped right back into 'being daddy' when I needed him to.  We had our own issues, but he helped shape me into who I am today, and who I seek to spend tomorrow with.

Something I got to honor him while I was away...I miss my Superman...

...thanks for reading.  Until next time...

~yonna

Had to write it...

So.  Ive been thinking about this post ALL DAY.  And here it is, 11:11pm, and I am just now bringing myself to do it.  Im hoping that i can keep this VERY short and sweet, just get to the point and get it over with.

A few days ago,a close friend of mine wrote This Blog, and of course I commented.  It was about her dreaming about a situation surrounding her deceased father, and her having to 'let go'.  I was close to tears reading it, and wondered in the comments if it would take something like that for me to begin letting go.  I mean, her father has been gone for years, and she's still grieving.  Daddy has only been gone since June2009, and it feels like the pain will never go away.

Anyway...

I was dreaming.  I was back in Muskegon, MI, visiting family, I'm guessing, since I really don't have any other reason to be there.  I don't really remember much of the dream, except the end.  I am sitting in the backseat of someone's SUV with my girl Peaches (who lives here in DC now, but we grew up together), and my cousin, Chris (who, ironically, still lives there, and is Lt. Fire Chief).  Its dark outside, and I'm guessing its around midnight, and we hear a marching band.

Marching band in Muskegon Hts. is a huge deal.  EVERYONE is in band...the Band Director, Mr. Moore, went to FAMU, and treated us like we were in college.  We played songs that were currently playing on the radio, formations were tight, we even danced.  Band was hot.

So when we heard the band at nearly midnight, we were slightly shocked, but knew they were getting some good work in.  I looked over at Peaches, who said something to the effect of "Go ahead, Mr. Moore, work them out!", and I smiled as well, knowing what she meant.

Band in the Heights...well Muskegon Hts. Tiger pride, is a huge thing within the alumni of the school, so there are always community members volunteering to do whatever they can to help out.  Former band members (now middle aged adults) often march alongside of the band, for safety reasons, as well as to keep lines straight, march steps on time, etc.

For some reason, I think we wanted to get out of the SUV and watch, so my cousin opens my door, and I look out at the band.

"Oh my God, that's my daddy".

I saw him, but he didn't see me.  He was too busy making sure the band members were doing the right thing.  He was waving at the neighbors who came out to watch the band (at midnight, like it was a parade).  He was smiling and he was happy, but he didn't see me.  I began crying, bawling hysterically.  I don't know what else happened around me...I just remember crying.

And then I woke up.

It hurt my feelings to wake up.  I saw La at church today, and she thanked me for commenting on her blog, and I poured this story out...and by the end, we were both in tears.

I don't know what this means...but I had to get it out.  I wish I had a dream interpreter...or at least an appointment with Dr. Sistagirl...

Until next time...

Boredom Breeds (a repost from MySpace)

Hola.
I was going through some of my MySpace blogs from back in the day (while was in college), and came across this one, which I remember so vividly. Take a look:

May 15, 2007 - Tuesday

Boredom Breeds...literally, in this case
Current mood: distressed
So for the past week, I haven't been around, as you may or may not have noticed, because I was in Idlewild, Michigan, performing my play "The Colored Museum". We take a play from Eastern Michigan University up there every summer, in hopes of helping to revitalize this once booming Black Community back into what it was in its heyday.

After one of the shows, I was speaking to an beautiful elderly woman (her silver hair was so shiny and neat...I hope my gray hair turns out as beautifully regal as hers did), and she told me how much she liked the show, but she didn't think that very many people understood it. The play is a satirical account of the black experience in America...it has funny moments, but was written to make black folks uncomfortable enough that they think about their own lives (If you've never heard of it, look it up. "The Colored Museum" by George C. Wolfe)

You see, Idlewild is based in Lake County, Michigan...the poorest county in the state. That means that unemployment rates are high, and not many folks go to, or have gone to college. We come there, trying to persuade the high school students to get out of there, and see the world-through college first. We do this by offering a workshop a few weeks before we get there, and then even having some of the high school students work on our show as interns. One of the girls who interned for us 3 years ago just finished her freshman year at EMU, and we are so proud of her.

Anyway...this woman and I were chatting about how the we changed some of the language in the play, to make it more PG than the PG13 it had been before...and she told me that her favorite scene was one where a man was throwing out all of his childhood items, because he had to conform to society...but the boy inside of him was torn over the issue. The boy said "you can't forget your past...its always there with you", and it made a great impact on this woman. She went on and on about it, but was disappointed that not too many others 'got it'. Then she went on to ask me what the high schoolers thought of it, since we did a private show for them. I told her that they laughed through most of it, since it was funny, but they didn't really understand most of it...with the exception of a scene called "Permutations"...a scene about a teenage girl, who had sex with the garbage man, and instead of having a baby, she laid an egg, and then had to defend herself from her mother.

This was sad, but true. Many times last week, my fellow actors and I spoke on how boring being in Idlewild was. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go, nothing to see. No cable to watch. Cell phones barely had any service. The nearest McDonalds was a half hour away, and the highlight of their week was driving a half hour to the nearest WalMart. The high school kids really had nothing better to do than lay down and get pregnant, so that they'd have something to do...if you have a baby to take care of, you're not bored anymore!

The woman and I stood there discussing this for a few minutes. I told her that we do our best to set a good example, and try to encourage them to come to college...she said that's great of us to do, but it won't work. Their mommas don't want them to leave...if a child leaves, that mean less money from the government. If that child stays and has a baby, that's more money. She said that in most households around there, you had 5 generations living in one house, the oldest being 65, then 45, then 30, then 15, and newborn. (Sad, isn't it?) And all because they know that the more folks you have in a household, the bigger your check is. Even one of the interns we had this year was celebrating her first Mother's Day.

The intern asked me about my family. I told her I had 3 babies, and it was no shock to her. The other 2 women in the cast, 23 and 20 had none, which did shock her. Then I told her that all of my kids had the same father. AND we were married. AND I was 'of age' to have them...(she thought I was 24...and 'bout near pissed on herself when I told her my real age)

I guess the point of my story is this; why wouldn't a parent want better for their child? What would I look like telling my kids "no, you cant go to college, you cant make yourself better, i want you to depend on me and this welfare check for the rest of your life!"

Have we really become so complacent in this world? Our elders feel like they cant trust the young people, because we haven't been taught well by our own parents (in most cases, their children), and that we aren't teaching our children to lead in the way They (the elders) need them to.

I don't want to be this way...

_________________________________

True, I wrote this 3 years ago, but it still hits me so hard. I look at my life now, and see the girls I teach. I see my own kids, and I see the kids I go to church with. Its amazing how your environment can dictate your outcome, if you allow it to.

Readers, what are your thoughts? Please share...

Merry Holidays

I type this as I lay in my bed, here on the day before December 25, Christmas. This has already been a very hard week for me, as the realization that my father is no longer here to talk my ear off, has hit. This time last year, my family was here with me; my mom and her husband, my brother and my dad all drove down to visit the kiddios and I. It was an odd combination (my mom and her husband, and then my dad as well?), but it worked. And of course, we had to have the regular family spat, but we all love each other at the end of the day.

Anyway, I pray that each and every one of you cherish these merry times with your family, no matter who you believe your creator to be, because all creators teach that you love one another. Be good to one another, and be better, if needbe. Remember to take a moment to reflect on the past year, smile at what you've accomplished, and be determined to finish what you've started. If there is something you have yet to complete, look forward to bringing it to fruition in the New Year.

Merry Holidays, loves...see you in 2010.
love,
MommaYonna