I felt comfort and peace, realizing within a few seconds, this is what’s been missing in my life. Her presence gifted me a feeling of hope, as though ANY and EVERY problem would be solved without struggle or strife. It wouldn’t take a decade to solve a challenge that could be solved in a day, nor would it take so much pain, caused by deliberate push back.
Her caring, productive energy, so forward-thinking…I felt she truly was trying to help us, such an uplifting and inspirational energy. She usually doesn’t speak to me in my dreams, not that she needs to, but I always understand and know exactly the message she is trying to bring to me. She was standing in front of me, holding up a set of lovely curtains that she made herself, I knew this automatically, because she was quite the seamstress when she was alive. Upholstering old pieces of furniture, making them look beautiful and classic, which always blew me away. This was a natural skill she had, that I did not inherit, but always respected and admired her for it, which I told her when she was in the flesh.
Behind her was an array of curtains, of many different, styles, patterns and colours, beautiful, and looked of quality. I thought, How did she do so much work, in such a short amount of time?? And why did I assume that she had less time? This is the thing about dreams, they can immediately make sense, or have you questioning, with logic, which you’re really not supposed to do, because dreams do not always walk straight…
My spirit told me that Mom was trying to show me something, and it was beyond the curtains, so when I awoke, I made note of the dream, and made note to tell my father the next time that we speak on the phone. This was a dream that had a message for ALL of us, and she deserves reciprocity for all that she did for us, with a clean heart. I will continue in my next post, Have good night and Good sleep!
I’m late with this post, please forgive me, I meant to post it after Father’s Day. Been going through a lot, busy, changes in my schedule, and living situation and trying my best to work around it. Regardless, I am grateful, counting my blessings everyday, and always writing nonetheless.
I notice Father’s Day on my calendar as soon as it rolls around, and make a mental note to call or text my father. Father’s day has always been slightly awkward for me since I was a child, for a few reasons. For one, my father was not with us on a consistent basis, as I’ve shared in previous blogs. He went from being a somewhat stable figure in my life, to eventually non-existent. His influence and presence seemed to become irrelevant, and I simply got used to it. After we lost it all, and he was incarcerated, there was no need to keep up with Father’s Day. I was just surviving with my Mother and siblings. We spent an adequate amount of time in women’s shelters, where Father’s Day was obviously not a priority.
I completely forgot about Father’s Day, until it came up in school. Make your father a card day! The teacher announced, and as I loved creating and arts and crafts, I was not enthusiastic. I didn’t want to feel out of place and awkward, but inside I did. I knew I couldn’t tell my teacher that I just didn’t feel like participating. I didn’t go into a category, as the few children who didn’t have a father, because their’s had passed away. They were treated in a very sensitive manner, instructed to sit at one table, and create a card or whatever they wanted. This made sense to me, and I felt empathized with those children, however I didn’t know where I stood. I had no reason to address the fact that my father was locked up, deported or whatever, yet I still felt strange…A part of me almost wanted to tell my teacher, as though I was confessing or admitting that I felt the way I did.
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 solowithout my mother.
The story isn’t over, I’ll continue in my next post.
Continuing from the thought of, never standing a chance, weovercome, beat the odds, andmanage to maintain some form of consistent communication. We know the relationship with our father is worth the push, although we never had a fair chance. Never had experienced a consistent father, with consistent “normal” father behaviour. Please understand, I mean the basics, that a child with a present father (non-abusive), and active in their lives would expect. Knowing that he will be there in the morning when you awake, and if you ask him a simple question, he will answer and follow through on his word. He will be there most of the time, without turning his back on you out of the blue. Pretty much what we’d expect out of our mother, parenting basics.
We spend our time trying to figure out the catalyst for their offish behaviour, feeling as though we are conducting a life long case study. Accountability falls on us, and we end up blaming ourselves. I’ve realized through time, the communication line I have built with my father, is faulty. 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’ll continue in my next blog.
Continuing from where I left off… I said, “To You, him acting up and not acting normal is considered NOT acting like a father, and to me,three square meals and a hug is a good enough!” We both chuckled.
We continued with the the topic of emotional support, we try to be emotionally supportive, regardless of the circumstance, but that is NOT a child’s responsibility. We feel responsible for their emotions, while ignoring and repressing our own. “This is why I’ve allowed so much bull**** to fly in my relationships!”, she began to explain. The pain and frustration in her voice was painful to hear. She expressed her regrets for giving the wrong people so many chances. She said she felt guilt, and that she may have unintentionally set a bad example for her children. She told me that she felt ashamed of herself for the nonsense she’s normalized. The passes she gave to people who did NOT deserve it. She said WENEVER STOOD A CHANCE! and I agreed. Your first example of what a man should look and act like, is your FATHER, Whether you realize it or not. I say this in the case that you have one, and/or remember the times he was around. I remember the first time I heard that a long time ago, from a talk show something.
I’m embarrassed to say that I used to expect inconsistent behaviour from men. Not necessarily “bad” or “good” behaviour, just inconsistent. I’ll get more into that in another blog.
A flood of texts from my bestie cousin, lead to an interesting back and forth about Fathers, and parenting. We hadn’t touched base in weeks, I was wondering how she was doing, and her messages caught me off guard. She explained a situation going on with her father with a slew of audios and texts, she was extremely upset and stressed. I was taken aback and empathized, as she told me how sad she felt. She sounded broken, more hurt than ever before, and I was moved more than ever before. We’ve always discussed this topic, regarding Father’s, and how to deal with and understand their sometimes odd behaviour. I’m trying to use the appropriate word to best describe their behaviour, and I’m having trouble pinning it…It can be random, unnecessary, difficult to dissect, and disruptive.
I was almost not going to respond, feeling I had no place to speak on it. I haven’t had a father around since I was a small child, and inconsistent at that. There are situations that I haven’t had to be in, situations that I have zero experience dealing with…Who am I to say anything??
For the longest time, I’ve thought about the fact that we feel as though we have to support them, and by support, I mean emotionally. That is not normal. We only think it is, because we’ve been conditioned by our upbringing. We witness our mother’s quietly “keep the peace”, we don’t quite understand why they aren’t speaking up, or “defending” themselves. At a younger age, we see our mother’s be passive, about things that WE even know should be addressed, or should be checked. Too young to comprehend the complex nature of adult relationships or marriage. There are convos had behind close doors, things not shown in front of children. Simply observing, confusion contradictions, seeping into our hearts, our subconscious mind, leaving a permanent impression.
I called her, and she proceeded to explain her disappointment, stating how a father “should” behave, I couldn’t help but ask her if it’s okay to interrupt. I said, “To You, him acting up and not acting normal is considered NOTacting like afather, and to me,three square meals and a hug is a good enough!” We both chuckled….To be continued.
Sorry for the delay, and for the “dabby” typo in my last post! I’m usually up writing at wee hours in the morning and that one SLIPPED me:/! I really meant daddy…Continuing from where I left off….It’s not easy explaining this, as simple as it should be, it’s quite complex and confusing. I understand that a Daddy issue, can be anyissue, or even expectation, good or bad that a woman may have tied to her relationship with her father. The angle I’m taking is slightly different than the Daddy Issue term that gets thrown around. Based upon my life experience thus far, I realized how much mixed messages I received and took on. So many of daddy’s issues I felt responsible for, ones he shared with me, thus aging my mind and soul. I always felt as though I was five going on fifty, understanding an adult’s issues oh too well, feeling as though I was the gatekeeper for his secrets and flaws. I truly felt responsible for his pain, and I never really knew why. All I knew is that, I believed his every word, trusted and adhered to his instructions on what not to do, the bad things that he said hedid that destroyed him inside. I listened as though I was a university student at a lecture. He wasn’t around all the time, so I figured this was important to him, I’d better listen! I showed him the respect that he deserved, yet with a child’s mind thinking, CAN I GO PLAY NOW??? Lol
Daddy issue? I never thought there was one, I never thought I had one. I trusted my father as a child, he was around enough for me to be familiar with him. He lived in our house, married to my mom. He was in no way a foreign figure to me. The lessons he taught me, I have shared in previous blogs. I’ll never forget when I was five or six, he got me ready for picture day. Mom wasn’t able to that morning, and I remember feeling a little worried lol because I wasn’t sure he could do it. It was the one and only time, and he did an amazing job. He combed my long hair into pig tails that he did a good job braiding. He even parted my hair well. The outfit he chose was quite stylish, a white collared shirt with a cute black vest. As girly as I was, it was a refreshing change from the usual “flowery”, dresses, or patterned outfits. If you’re an 80’s baby, you’ll know what I mean. That pic, and that picture day was one of my favourite, and I remember the photographer saying, “Great SMILE! Good job!”. I only needed one take. My father made that an extra special day, a memory I will always cherish. The few times I’ve mentioned these type of memories to him, on a long distance call, there’s an awkward silence…..On his part, although he does mumble a few nice words, showing me that he appreciates me acknowledging his role in my life. How do I know what he means, by that response? I know because our connection, I understand him on a different level. Time and distance didn’t change that, and I tried to hold on to it, for dear life. I tried to appreciate it and keep it going, regardless of thecircumstances.
I never had a daddy issue, well not that I know of, and I never thought about or questioned his role in my life. I never cried to my mother asking where he was, when he was gone for long periods. None of us did. It was common knowledge that he chose to be away, and would return on his own accord. We were young and innocent but understood this, children can feel it. You observe your surroundings, you watch and listen, and eventually draw your own conclusion.
Never did I think an issue with trust and security would later arise in my life, and without therapy, I would have the know to directly correlate it with a “Daddy issue”. I thought a Daddy issue meant, to have a direct issue with your father, a problem that you can name, that’s had a negative impact on your relationship…..So what if you don’t, but are simply trying to make sense of and understand HIS issues?!
It’s not easy explaining this, as simple as it should be, it’s quite complex and confusing. I will continue in my next post.
What did I expect??? Have I set the bar too high???, Why is this even bothering me?? I thought I was passed this, I knowhow he can be…..Whatis goingon here???
I was disappointed in myself for expecting so much out of him, even though this wasn’t much to expect. It was what I had grown accustomed to, and that was embarrassing to me. I was ashamed and embarrassed, almost felt like a child. The feeling didn’t last for long though. Within seconds I decided that I wouldn’t even warrant his message with a response, a response was not needed. I received my answer and this marked a new chapter in our relationship, and in my life. I understood so much more who he really is, and that he is much more broken than I knew. My natural intuition did not pick up on this, because I was still getting to know the “older” version of him and from a distance. The checking in texts and short phone calls could only go so far, and to top it off, I am one of six. My efforts at times are over-shadowed by whatever’s going on with them. It seems we are going backwards, and the more he punishes himself, the further he’s pushing me away. I don’t think he’s aware of it. Very sad, and is a waste of time, because we had come so far, so I thought…
The expectations I have in life, especially with men in relationships, and even friends and family, have been influenced heavily by my expectations of my father. I’m still checking myself on it. I am aware that I hope for the best, yet subconsciously expect whatever to happen, which is not cool. This situation was significant, because it reminded me that I can not expect others to grow as fast as I expect, regardless of how much I do on my part….
There’s more to share, but I gotta go to bed now, stay tuned for my next blog. Have a Good Night 🙂
In twenty-one seconds, I told him exactly how I felt about him not openly acknowledging my birthday, to ME. I felt foolish and stupid as I sat at my cubicle staring at my phone, trying to make sense of his response…..I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t hurt, I was just embarrased. It was Nov 20th and I was at work taking calls, but I didn’t forget that it was his birthday, and I wanted him to know that I didn’t forget. My expectations of him, come from what he’s always done. He always sent a letter, post card, tele-gram or called, even when he was in prison. So, our long distance relationship since I was seven years old, was partially built on these little birthday messages. It has been one of the only consistent things he’s ever done.
I actually went to work like a regular day on my birthday, I didn’t feel the need to celebrate, but I did acknowledge that I was a year older. I was happy that I was able to video chat with one of my dear friends, who has a very busy schedule. I was happy for the people who took the time to greet me. Upon returning home, my fam gave me gift bag full of goodies, and a sincere birthday card which made me smile. I felt blessed to have made it through another year in one piece.
Before I got up from by chair I thought, Damn, even an emoji would’vesufficed….Why are YOU so uncomfortable with me??? Texting something is more difficult than what I’ve endured??? Considering the tumultuous childhood I had due YOUR decisions, considering I made it through to this age without turning into something that would’ve been considered a “disappointment”, considering the way in which I arrived to this earth plane, a story you’ve told ME a thousand times. “I’m a miracle and wasn’t supposed to make it”, (I’ll save that story for another blog.) Sending me a message was something you decided NOT to do???
I felt overwhelmed with annoyance, so I abruptly pulled off my headphones, put my computer on “short break”, and scurried off to the stairwell for privacy. I pressed the record button and started speaking from my soul….
In twenty-one seconds, I told him exactly how I felt about him not openly acknowledging my birthday, to ME. After sitting back at my desk, thoughts spun in my mind….What did I expect??? Have I set the bar too high???, Why is this even bothering me?? I thought I was passed this, I knowhow he can be…..Whatis goingon here???
Dawn Lovely says.................. 