My Daddy “Memory”

Fam, it’s funny.

When Daddy was alive, I didn’t really celebrate Father’s Day.

The reasons are varied. I’ve shared them before.

But now that he’s gone…

Father’s Day hit different and…

I can’t go back in time to celebrate this day with him, but I can remember the complicated dude he was and smile.

Hope yaw smile as you read one of my favorite “memories” of him, too.

You’ll understand why memory is in quotes after your read this. 🙂


I readily admit I don’t remember any of what I’m about tell you. 

In my defense, I was a baby. 

And momma has been telling me this story for so long that it feels like it’s my memory, but that’s impossible, because I was only 18 months old. 

It was circa 1973. Momma and Daddy were still married, and we were a young Detroit family living in a tiny two- family flat bungalow. (My sister, Gina, hadn’t been born yet. )

I have no way of knowing the hour, but apparently, it was bedtime, and momma and daddy were trying to sleep. 

I, on the other hand, was trying to escape from my baby crib. 

Depending on how momma tells the story, I jumped out of my crib five to twenty times that night.  And each time, Daddy stomped into my room and plopped me back into my prison, I hurled myself back down to the wooden floor before his head could hit his pillow

Of course, this pissed Daddy off. No way was he gonna let a hardheaded infant disrespect the hell out of him. 

But I didn’t give a damn. I wanted out of that cage. 

And let’s face it, I was a new human, growing stronger by the day. Daddy was just a 23-year-old dude growing older every second.

In my baby mind, I must have figured I could outlast him. 

To hear momma tell it, Daddy and I went at it like Hearns and Sugar Ray until she stepped in that night to let me have my way and sleep on the floor with a pillow and a blanket. 

After I defeated him, Daddy went out and bought me my first bed the next morning. Momma said I slept like a baby from then on, but it took Daddy weeks to stop cussing about me  getting the best of him.

Maybe Daddy knew then what I’ve only now just figured out…

My act of rebellion set the tone for our Daddy-Daughter relationship. 

Over the next 47 years, Daddy and I settled into a push and pull kind of love.

As my first authority figure, I made it my business to buck against him. But Daddy was also the first man I ever loved.

So, even when we fell out after he would disappear for months at a time and then pop back up as if nothing had happened, I fought just as hard to protect our bond and defend him.   

Fam,  I recognize I might be doing the most reflecting on what my baby self was intending that night I challenged Daddy.  

And I recognize I won’t know until I see Daddy again what the hell he was thinking then.

But I’m a grown woman and this is my memory now. 

And this is how I’m choosing to remember it.

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