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...