One year ago today my daddy died. He was not my biological father. But he was a lot more than that to me. He volunteered to raise me and adopt me, to make me his legally and every other way. He hugged me, he spanked my butt when I needed it, and he cared about me, protected me, up to and including taking on a guy who was 18 when he was 40+ because the guy threatened my health, well being, and safety when I was at school. Daddy picked him up and threw him through a window. The guy never bothered me again. Ever. Now that's not to say we always got along, no parent and child does but I always knew he was there if I needed him.
During the last ten years of his life, Daddy and I lived 2,000 miles apart, so I didn't get to see him but three times during that whole period., and he was never one to talk on the phone for very long so I missed a lot of his life. However that's both good and bad, it's bad in all the normal ways but it's good in that I didn't have to see him really start to age and become frail. Anyone who knew or ever just met my Dad will tell you, frail is NOT a word one would use to describe him. More like, axe wielding, alpha male, with the heart of a well loved teddy bear. Axe wielding you say? Yes he made a point of being in the yard "Practicing" throwing his axe at the fence whenever a new boyfriend was expected to drop by. His version of have her home on time and no funny stuff...if only he knew. Lol
My dad was a carpenter, a roofer to be more precise, that meant putting on tar and gravel roofs, plus he smoked from like ten years old till a few years before he died, so it should be no surprise that lung cancer is what took him. Yet it was a complete surprise to me. I think really anything would have been a surprise I mean this big strong bear of a man, nothing could be stronger than he was, or so I thought.
I feel like I'm trying hard to tell you who this man was and what he meant to me and doing a very poor job of it here.
He was MY Daddy my protector, my authority, my provider, and my stability and I Knew, it was because he chose me to be his daughter. The day he walked me down the aisle he had a bigger smile on his face than I did! His love was uncompromising and unmeasurable and if he loved you you knew you were loved., without a doubt.
Dad was American Indian, Cherokee and Choctaw and thus had this stoicism about him, he never complained, never told you if he was worried about something, because that's how he was raised... to be a man.
I'm really proud of his Indian heritage I think being related to this land, to this country is a really amazing thing to be able to say. Legally (I don't know if by blood) I claim that right, because he chose to pass it on to me by adopting me.
Anyway, I know I'm rambling here and that's not what I had intended to do so....One year ago today my Daddy died and I want everyone to know that I love him and I miss him every single day.
Talk to you all soon.
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