Sunday, June 15, 2008

Happy father’s day…

My father died ten year’s ago, but I didn’t lose him. As a matter of fact, he has become larger in my memory and I have taken the time to relish the good times and mourn the many falling outs that combine to make up our time together,

As I look back at the past ten years I hope that my father would be proud. I hope that he would read my writing and be inspired to launch into one of his fantabulous debates over history, politics and life. And I hope that he would look upon his children…his son and his daughters…and know, for just one second, how very much we love him still and remember him always.

My father was born in 1939 and grew up poor and hungry. I remember many a Saturday spent browsing through the grocery store with him while he munched on fruit swiped from the produce section. We’d go up and down every aisle…he’d select a ton of shit we didn’t need…and there’d be this thrill in him to be able to provide what we needed and also buy what we wanted. To this day, I share that sense of accomplishment when I go to the market...that I am able to put food on my family’s table and that my labor provides for that food.

My father taught that to me without a single lecture even as he gave me love, support and judgment.

He worked for decades in a corporate setting he could not stand at a job that regularly insulted his intelligence and challenged his integrity. But his gift to us was to share that with us…to let us see how tired he was, how frustrated and angry he was with a system that hired diverse talent but didn’t value diversity. He’d get up every day and return to work because it was the right ting to do despite those realities.

This father’s day I remember the many lessons my father taught me. I remember ice cream for breakfast and paying my bills before I buy something I don’t need…being active in my community and the need for community service rather than vacant criticism tossed out from a distance…and I remember those trips to the grocery store and seeing the simple joy of a man who had known great hunger being able to provide for his children as he had always dreamed of doing.

The world is complex and it seems as if a million things are happening at once…but my father’s gift to me is the lesson that life is simple and blessings, more often than not, are within easy reach.

I am, ever and always, my father’s daughter.

I am blessed that he is always with me.

Always a memory or sweet thought away.

Always and forever loved.

Happy father’s day...

6 comments:

Torrance Stephens bka All-Mi-T said...

thanks for the FD wishes hon

SagaciousHillbilly said...

"He worked for decades in a corporate setting he could not stand at a job that regularly insulted his intelligence and challenged his integrity. But his gift to us was to share that with us…to let us see how tired he was, how frustrated and angry he was with a system that hired diverse talent but didn’t value diversity. He’d get up every day and return to work because it was the right ting to do despite those realities."

Bravo to you for honoring him for doing that every day for decades to provide for his family.
I look back and know that I did the same thing and it was one of the more selfless things I did in my life. It aint easy going to a place every day where you feel insulted and unused.
I'm glad I was able to give my children the resources to not have to do that.
Hurray for you and your father.

blackwomenblowthetrumpet.blogspot.com said...

Hello,

Happy Father's Day!

What a wonderful tribute to your father!

I absolutely love this day each year because I truly am blessed to have had a father who did MORE than his fatherly duties...he EXCELLED at being a father, moral leader and role model for his family and his community.

Those of us who had loving and exceptional dads MUST blow the trumpet so that all will realize just how many of them are out there.

Responsible and loving black men are not some miniscule percentage of black men as the media would have us believe!

There are millions of black men in this country raising their children and participating in successful marriages and they DESERVE the accolades.

Peace, blessings and DUNAMIS!
Lisa

Jeannie said...

Beautiful tribute to your father...

I only wish more little black girls could tell such wonderful stories.

Anonymous said...

My FATHER also made the transition. Will be 8 years July 20. And some of the things you mentioned in your tribute, I would swear you wear speaking of me or my FATHER. To Jeannie, there are many Black children that have the same story. Unfortunately, this society thrives on CONTROVERSY and STEROTYPES,and putting it's foot on the NECK, BACK, BEHIND, and PSYCOLOGY(mentally conditioning). As one cop show producer said "...If we didn't show blacks, we couldn't get the ratings we want..."

bwb said...

What a touching tribute to your father. My father was the son of a sharecropper, 3rd grade education ... maybe when they weren't planting or harvetsing tobacco or cotton.

He taught me that black is beautiful whenever he said to me, "You ain't never going to be as dark and pretty as me!"

And he taught me not to judge people by what they look like, rather than how they treat me and how they treat themselves.

I'm lucky to have in my life.