Pretty grim looking family pic, huh?  Too bad it’s the only recent one I have of me and my dad.  I wish my big sis could’ve been there with us, but she was unable to make it out of town on such short-notice to see him after his stroke.  Or, perhaps she was merely showing about as much energy and concern as he did for us throughout our adult lives.  At any rate, dear old dad is gone..sleeping in his grave as the old folx say.

I hadn’t physically seen my dad in 17yrs before this day.  The stroke completely paralyzed him.  He would never again be able reach out and touch my hand or kiss his grandkids, whom he was seeing today for the first, yet final time.  Sad.  Boy, this is getting harder to write than I imagined.  How do you officially grieve for a person when you experienced a form of grief each time they walked away from you?  The first time was when I was about 7.  My parents split, and my dad moved back to Alabama.  I know I’m not the first to say this, but it felt as if my dad “divorced” us at the same time he split with my mom.  Talk-time on the phone was intermittent at best.  But the most poignant memory occurred when I was 12yrs old and talked to my dad on the phone about a month after he’d missed my birthday.  I remember being upset because he hadn’t called for Christmas, then failed to call for my birthday which was just two days later.  When I asked him about it, his response was unbelievable.  What was that response you may be wondering?  Try “I guess I forgot.”  Now I don’t remember much growing up where my dad is concerned, but I remember that crap, and it crushed me.  How could a dad forget his baby’s birthday?  Especially a dad whose birthday was only 3 days after mine.  Mike Baisden would say that’s some Fragernackle Bull!  But as a 12yr-old I pretty much said “forget choo, forgot choo, wish I never thought about choo.”  Subconsciously, I think I decided to bury all the emotion I felt for him at that point.  Thinking back on it, I don’t remember talking to him much after that.  We lived in North Carolina, which really wasn’t that far from Alabama; but on single parent income it might as well had been Hawaii.  And did I mention my mom received no child support for us?  So a visit was definitely out of the question.  After high school, I joined the Air Force and conducted eight months of training in Mississippi.  My mom called my dad and told him how close in proximity I was to him, and to my surprise he and my aunts drove to see me.  We spent the day together.  It was a tad bit awkward, but cool.  I remember talking to him on the phone probably a good 5 times or so after that reunion up until his death..no kidding or exaggerating here.  This all struck me as odd, ‘cause my mom and aunts spoke of how much my dad loved us; but his actions said something else.  Frankly, I never went out of my way to remain in contact with him because I was used to living life without him.  Of course in hindsight, it saddens me because my kids never knew their biological grandfather. 

So the last good memory I have of my dad is of him in a hospital bed with tubes, but with enough courage, emotion and strength to release a single tear after he realized who I was.  He couldn’t speak, but at that point I knew he recognized me.  But more recently I’ve begun to speculate over what he would’ve conveyed to me in that moment had he been able to speak.  Perhaps “I love you,” “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” “Please forgive me” …what?”  Or maybe seeing my daughter, who was 6 at the time and the “spittin’ image” of me caused him to reflect back 30yrs in the blink of an eye.

I don’t remember exactly all I said to him that day in the hospital.  I just remember giving him a kiss on the top of his head, which still had dirt and other particles in it from his fall on the pier where he had been fishing.  But he was, and will always be my dad, and “God made dirt, and the dirt don’t hurt!”

You know it just dawned on me I NEVER called my dad “dad,” even when he was acting like one.  So dear Earnest, Rest In Peace.

I think I just got punked by my 7yr old. My kids really, really want a pet kitty. But I grew up in the era where a lot of black folks believed cats to be devilish, and anything furry with colored eyes made folk nervous! Well my oldest daughter made her way upstairs just now and was headed towards my room. I heard her little sissy yell to her from downstairs “where’s kitty?” My oldest replied “I’m walking kitty.” In walks my daughter dragging a stuffed toy kitty behind her. The kitty was attached to a belt. I looked down at the kitty, and then back at my daughter who immediately responded “I don’t have it tied around her neck.” And indeed she didn’t. The buckle was hooked around kitty’s “collar.”

aughter headed out of my room I can only tell you what was going thru my head. “Either my children are crazy, or they’re very, very special.” And I suppose the look on my face said it all ‘cause after my daughter noticed it, she took 3 steps back towards me and said – and with authority I might add - “is there a problem?”

Why don’t kids like for parents to help them brush their teeth? My daughter’s got to have the cleanest lips in the city. I get so sick of brushing her lips I don’t know what to do. There’s got to be a better way. We don’t always battle over the brush, but tonight it was on! She got to brush them this morning, now it was my turn! And I’m sure you can imagine who won the battle. The kid with the “Colgate smile, uh..lips”

I can assure you that no children were harmed in the making of this picture.