I wish fathers were celebrated more throughout the year. Because at the end of the day they are just as important and just as needed as mom is. There should be a shift from this unwritten “societal rule” that mom is the nurturer and dad is the breadwinner. Yes, biologically mom is but there needs to be a movement in the family structure where dad is also the nurturer.
I was fortunate enough to have my father in my life until he was struck down by a silent killer. One day he went to the hospital for what he thought was severe gas or stomach pain only to be told it was pancreas cancer and had only a few months to live. Three months later he was gone. At this time I can say I had him for most of my life but it dawned on me when I get old and grey I will only of had him for a very short period of time. I’ve been robbed.
I honestly do not know who’d I be if I didn’t know him. This is in no way to take away my mother’s role but my father’s love was my first identifiable source of male affection. It has prepared me for the next man in my life. Because of my father’s love I do not seek validity from a man. My father told me I was already valid. Because of his love I know my worth and how I’m supposed to be treated. I was so prepared for love and dating. It was like he had everything written out for me and it was the small things that he was always right about that determined the character of a man. He told me if a man can’t give you his home number (this was way before cellphones took over) then he’s married or living with a woman. That always stuck in my head when I was meeting guys and literally almost every guy at that time that could not give me a house phone was married or with a girlfriend. I’ll never forget the time a gentlemen was giving me his beeper and office number. He said, “I work 50+ hours so I’m never home.” As he extends his hand out with the business card I said to him, “my father told me any man who can’t give me his home number is not a man I should be dealing with. You’re married, aren’t you?” I’ll never forget his face. His head dropped and the hand that had his card in it fell back to his side. He began to shake his head and laugh. He was busted. But what has resonated in me to this day was his reply: YOU HAVE A GOOD FATHER. TAKE CARE. And we parted ways. He walked away with the card in his hand. There was no need to lie or plead his case. He knew I wasn’t the chick to run the game on. Stories like that were few and far between. I always seemed to gravitate towards men like my father or them to me. It was the norm for me to be in the company of great men that in some way epitomized my dad.
Then there are the other traits that make 6FootBombshell the women that she is. Besides the height and the dimples he gave me the desire to never conform, my righteous fury, my fight for what is right, the revolutionary that’s inside me, my mindset. All these things are my father. His role was my future.
Daddy, thank you for being my blueprint. Thank you for loving me. Happy Father’s Day.