As for my father figures, there have been a few... a teacher here and there more than anything. Most people who know me know the teacher to whom I refer as "Papa"... who eventually had another little girl of his own to raise. There's also my uncles, one on each side of my biological family, who had their moments of stepping in as counselor, adviser, friend, and advocate.
But there's no one like Daddy...
He had the real kind of of fathering power that quietly monitors your well-being and doesn't make itself very noticeable until you're out on your own. Provider, of course, was a primary role I understood he played, but the other gifts he gave me were unclear until adulthood... like the love a man must have for a woman to take her and her two year old (I've seen the videos... I was not the easiest kid to tolerate without getting a headache from her theatricals). There are loads of pictures of us between the my ages 2 and 5... so, mostly things I can't remember. There are a few more as I approach nine... and then they drop off until I turn about 23.
He was a pretty good sport during instances about which I no longer have clear memories... Here I'm about three and helping with a repair in the corridor:
He also helped out significantly with plays I wanted to put on at family reunions or holiday dinners... from recording my music to play during my performance or, once in a while, working as my co-star:
I wish I could remember this stuff.
Once my brothers were born, I saw an opportunity to be on my own. I turned inward and deepened my friendships, worked on my plays and poetry, and dealt extensively with my problems with my biological father. Daddy gave me plenty of space to figure out where I stood with my parents. I used to think he was blatantly ignoring me just as my father had all my life, but I later learned that he knew he had no place to really help me... I had to sort out those emotions and anger on my own.
Daddy has a "sixth sense" about people (so he tells us). He pretty much knew which friends would stick around for me before I did (he witnessed many tense moments and always had a brief pearl of wisdom to string around my neck that comforted me when the lesson was unpleasant)... he could tell when he walked into a room if "something funny was going on" (meaning he picked me up from outings, dates, school, etc)... he was the calm one in a crisis who probably saved your life (like the time he pulled me out of the water at the beach under the rouse that we would be joining Mom for ice cream when really he had seen a shark fin in the water and wanted to get me out and tell the life guard)... and so on.
This gift is the only explanation for the change in our relationship. He went from giving me space to opening up and becoming my friend around the same time I let go of my issues with my father or lack thereof. We didn't have a discussion or an agreement... it just happened.
It's one of the most magical relationships in my life.
I love you, Daddy.
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