Just Some Thoughts πŸ€”:The Daddy Issue Part 6πŸ€·πŸΎβ€β™€οΈπŸ‘¨πŸ½πŸ’”β”….

Continuing from the thought of protection…I was taking on a role of a protective parent, unknowingly. I innocently was trying to protect my father from having to deal with reality, the reality that I’ve lived without him. It wasn’t all roses, by any means. I took the hits for his mistakes, we all did, and there’s just no way to diminish that fact. We lived an existence that was completely based on his choices and it changed the course of our lives. Fugitives on the run, no more home, stability, safety no longer a priority. I felt vulnerable, confused but didn’t show it, none of us did. Crying, showing fear, asking why?, asking Mommy where’s daddy going? What’s going to happen to him?? Was completely out of the question. Per usual, I tried to intellectualize the situation, while considering my Mother’s point of view, remaining cool, calm and collected as expected.

I’ve wrote about this in a previous blog, we saw our house on the evening news, watched the police search the front lawns of our neighbour’s houses. I knew at THAT moment my life, our life would never be the same. Father’s role, the responsibility HE held in the situation, wasn’t even a thought, because I witnessed him be assaulted by the police. My sympathy was reserved for him, us and our Mom weren’t even a factor in my mind. Unprotected we were, and we definitely were NOT going to be protected by law enforcement. My father was no longer a part of the equation, he was a non-factor, he was irrelevant in my mind in regards to protection. We were thrown to the wolves, basically. It was just us and Mom, on our own, without our home.

Before all of this, when we had a nice, comfortable, typical middle-class living two parent home, I remember feeling protected. I distinctly remember my father showing up at our elementary school after I mentioned to him that my teacher had hit a child in my class with a “pointer stick”. Do you remember those pointer sticks with the yellow tip that teacher’s used to point a the chalk board? Well my 1st grade teacher, struck my classmate with it, after she yelling at him in front of the class for misbehaving. I was stunned, but quiet as usual, and made a mental note about it. I didn’t intend on addressing my parents about it, it casually came out of my mouth to my father. Doing as he taught me, informing him about an injustice, wrong done by an adult with authority. I felt protected and accounted for that day, especially for the fact that my father came solo without my mother.

The story isn’t over, I’ll continue in my next post.

Take Care, Stay safe, and Stay tuned.

~ Dawn Lovely

Follow me@:https://twitter.com/iamdawnlovely, https://t.co/wfctLWHJ1W


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