My mind can’t move away from thoughts of fatherhood ever since I wrote “An Unrequited Wish” for the OB Rag sometime ago wherein I shared my belief that my late soul mate’s dad’s indiscretions with her throughout her childhood led to her taking her life.
Most of my reflecting has been about my own experiences as a dad starting back when I first heard that I was a father to be. The news caught me off guard completely. I mean, in one moment, I was strutting down the halls of Tucson High, wearing my big red “T” for my basketball artistry, All-City, All-State, All-Star, All-Ego, in the flow, high fiving and asking “What’s happening?” of everybody I happened to know, throwing in all the latest dance steps just to diversify the show – and, in the next moment, somewhere in the middle of all the festivities my girlfriend managed to say to me: “I’m pregnant.”
The world, as they say, stood still. I replied “Say what?” at decibels that had to have awakened the dead, even those who had died deaf. I was as stunned and confused as if she had said she had grown another foot. At the tender age of 18 I just hadn’t had the experience of someone looking me in the face and using the words I’m and pregnant in that order.
But a part of me, even as I stood in the throes of shock, understood that fatherhood, no matter what else came with it, wasn’t something to be taken lightly. And in January of ’57 when I gazed down at my first child’s beautiful round face her expression said to me ever so earnestly and clearly: “Hey, dude, I don’t know nothing from nothing; I can’t walk and I can’t talk so I’m counting on you big time.” I caught her drift and my mind, on its own, although I didn’t “know nothing from nothing” either, zeroed in on lessons I would have to teach someday, those “look both ways before you cross the street” and “don’t talk to strangers” admonitions. And I began mentally forming the lists of things I would have to protect her from, those activities that parents fear could break their children’s neck or stunt their growth, fears that have haunted parents across the ages.
Now I know I had a lot to learn, having to dive into adulthood overnight, but I was up for the task and over time I’ve welcomed three more daughters into the world. In the process of daddying, if you will, I’m sure I’ve done some things that weren’t in their best interest, but I’d like to think that since I’m nowhere near being perfect that whatever wrong I committed was due to ignorance or stupidity. But the propensity to protect my children has always been and still is as natural to me as breathing.
Growing up each one of my daughters were pretty little girls and they all matured into physically attractive women but acknowledging such is as far as I can go when it comes to objectifying them.
I guess what I’m saying, as I struggle to make sense of things, as I ponder fatherhood, is there’s just nothing within me that can comprehend, to any degree, how a father could do anything intentionally that would or could harm his children immeasurably, for the rest of their lives – like molesting them sexually. How does one go there, knowing the magnitude of the harm that could befall one’s progeny, members of the offspring branches of one’s family tree?
As I look back I think being a father is pretty much, in the grand scheme of things, all I’ve ever wanted to be. It’s an honored position, I would think, in every society. And now that I know, up close and personally, how damaging and tragic immoral parenting can be, I can only dedicate myself, in whatever way I can, to, as a man recently suggested to me: educate, prevent and protect.
I owe that to my beloved, the mother of two of my daughters, and to all the girls in the world who live with fathers and uncles and whoever else who has no sense of boundaries when it comes to their warped proclivities. I will speak for them until my last breath on this earth comes to me.
Hey, I’m just daddying. Can’t help myself.
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
Ernie, you always keep it ‘real’………you have guts of steel! I so commend you, and anxiously await something you have written, you’re the heartbeat here.
So………….you just go DADDY-O, ……….one dribble in front of the other!
Hey, Genie, I will dribble and dribble and dribble. But it will be, for a 71 year old, on the “real” – real slow (smile).
p.s. How ’bout my rhythmic prose…..(real, steel) hey hey….(big laugh)
You know Ernie, back in the ooooold days, the Rag had sort of columns, for instance, “The People Answer”, where a roving ‘rag reporter’ would go around the community and ask a specific question, and publish it in the paper. (I did that once but changed it to the “kids answer”, very funny).
There was “Uncle Roach” which was about food and recipes by Mari Grey. Very cool.
Another was “Poet’s Corner”, I did one on Diane DePrima! wow.
Anyhow, that’s kinda how I see you,…… That specialty column…..Matters of the Heart, or Poetry in Motion or some other clever down to earth level., that frankly sorta keep us honest, again, thanks
Hey Daddy-o, while you are out educating, protecting, and preventing, I hope you don’t just do so for girls, but for boys too. Approximately 15% to 25% of women and 5% to 15% of men were sexually abused when they were children, 30% of abuse was done by relatives (Wikipedia). Now, I’ve heard different stats, 1 in 3 girls, 1 in 4 boys (my child development classes). Either way, please, as I’m sure you will, don’t forget the boys. Unfortunately boys who have been molested are often ignored and thus , so I’ve read and heard, are more likely to commit suicide than girls who have been molested. Let’s do something together. Go daddy-o Go.
I hear ya, mijo. Boys, well you know, children in general, are what make me go. I focused on girls in these pieces to keep my focus on mom’s story, her troubles as a girl and then a woman. But the overall story in all this, the abuse of children, be they boy or girl, is HUGE. I wanted, at this stage of my thinking on such a powerful subject, to keep it simple.
Love ya,
Pops
I so miss you, and love you guys……..
KC and the girls