The First Man in My Life

Men have been a predominant presence in my life. I was my parent's firstborn child, and was followed by three brothers over the next seven years. Then got married and had my own son when I was 24. At one point, believed I would give birth to all sons, until I was shocked by my daughter's birth when I was 29. Yet I digress.

My parents were quite young when they found I existed and they were married. I am so sure it was quite the shock to these young teens. A new marriage. A new baby. New entrance into adulthood. My dad had been raised as the eldest of four children with a very strong mom and a father who had his own set of issues. They were raised on what was literally "the wrong side of the tracks," which resulted in a colorful upbringing. Each of the four siblings were quite strong personalities and my father felt responsible to make sure his family was protected. That trait never left his personality.

Throughout my childhood, my dad was my world. I wanted with all I had to please him. He was strong. He was fun. He loved tickling us, wrestling with us, athletic activities were constant. He was strict. He demanded immediate and complete obedience. He had a hard temper and we would know instantly if we were in trouble and each of us would pay severe consequences. There was a great deal of fear of my father in our home due to his level of discipline. At the same time, I never feared anybody or anything else because I knew my dad would always take care of me. He would always protect me. During my teen years, those who were from our small little community knew to avoid bullying me out of fear or respect of my dad. My high school boyfriend even told me once that, "your dad looks like one of those men who go out and scare grizzly bears for a hobby." He was not small. He was was strong. His blue eyes could look through someone. He did not forget and was one of the most stubborn people you'd ever meet. 

My dad loved sports and he loved singing. While I was never an athlete like my brothers, we did get to share the music. Gospel music, 50s and 60s music, and some country music. I remember sitting on my bed singing together and singing in the car while driving down the road. It was so much fun. He also took very seriously our ability to learn how to drive. I still hear his voice during certain situations when I'm driving. He was an amazing advocate for those he cared for. It was like nothing scared him. 

I never remembered my dad being sick. I remember when I was a young married woman, just a couple of months after our first anniversary and living in another state, my phone rang and I learned that Dad was in the hospital after seizures revealed a non-cancerous brain tumor. This was the first time I recall ever considering that he had any vulnerabilities. I called one of my brothers who lived across the country and his response was quite the same as mine. "What? Dad? Huh?" My mom told me that my dad kept asking the doctors in the emergency room if they were still able to make a planned trip to visit his daughter in North Carolina the following week. He had been diagnosed with a brain tumor and his mind was on a trip to visit his 19 year old daughter. My heart melted to know that he wanted so badly to visit me, as much as I wanted to lay my eyes on my protector. When I saw him, I will never forget his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes were even more intense blue. The seizures had burst the blood vessels in his eyes, causing the whites of his eyes to become blood red. I felt so much more peaceful, having seen him and been able to trust that my father would be okay. 

Even after I was married, my dad continued to be my protector and continually made sure his daughter was taken care of. When I would buy a new car, or if I had car problems, I would call him. My dad was a car person and I would trust his judgement and want his approval for my decisions. He was the first man I ever loved. The first man I ever wanted to please. To prove myself as worthy. 

At some point, Dad was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes and lost 70lbs. While I was told of his diagnosis, I was not told of his weight loss. My parents came to my home on the other side of the country for a visit. I won't forget picking them up at the airport and my dad coming through the gate and walking right past me since I did not recognize him. Did I mention he also absolutely loved practical jokes? So he took off his glasses and wanted to see if I would notice him, as he walked right past me. I failed that test and it was a story that he loved holding over my head for many years, as he would laugh at how he pulled that off. 

I feared throughout my life that I did not make my dad proud. My marriage ended after 17 years and I went to school for a social work degree that my dad did not feel would financially support me. My children were not the same as my parent's other grandchildren, just as I have never been the same as my brothers. Then, a sister-in-law informed me once that my siblings felt like I was the only one who could deal with my dad. That actually made me sad because, with age comes wisdom and I had learned about my dad by figuring out why he was the way he was. I was able to make use of my education and apply it to looking at him from behind the scenes. He would stand strong with issues because he felt he was right. He was a Quality Assurance inspector and was very literal. He loved so deeply and cared so much that he would have opinions on everything. Researching, coming up with options and ideas, standing immovable when he felt he was right. He even did a bit of research on mental illness, knowing that this was my field so he was able to have conversations with me about my passion. I remember during an election season, we went toe-to-toe in a conversation, with me ending up saying that we just have to agree to disagree. That was a foreign concept to him. Per my mom, I'm the only person that would ever do that with him. 

Over the past few years, my dad's health began deteriorating with kidney disease, heart disease, and the previously diagnosed diabetes. We had the opportunity to take what ended up being our final trip together for one of my cousin's wedding, in Washington D.C. After the wedding, my parents joined my daughter, my best friend, and I for a few days in Philadelphia. I was observing my hero showing his age and failing health. Apparently, he had began feeling old as his body weakened with age and health issues. Over the next year and a half, his health became worse and worse, resulting in ongoing kidney dialysis and congestive heart failure. Finally, the time came when, January 2021 had barely begun and I was told that my dad's body failed him. His organs failed and Jesus took him home. 

My mom's partner since she was 16, and husband of 54-1/2 years, a father of 4 kids and 3 daughter's-in-law, Papa of 10 grandkids, and a man who loved God and loved doing for others.....He was gone. My hero. The first man in my life. My protector. My advocate. And all I could think about was that he was alone in an emergency room when his body began to quit working. Was he afraid? Was this strong and independent man scared that his body was letting him down while he had no control? I have had a peace deep in my soul that my dad is happy and healthy, sitting at the foot of God's throne, however the part that broke my heart was that picture and those questions. One night, while crying and praying, God blessed me with an answer that I won't soon forget. I heard these words. "He wasn't alone. We were with him." Those words reverberate in my heart whenever I think about Dad's passing. The first man in my life, my first hero, my protector and advocate is now with my Savior and my Creator.       

Dear Dad, 

    We sure had our ups and downs. There were times I truly did not know if you loved me or not; if I lived the life you wanted for me; or if you were proud of the life I made for myself. I remember always looking to you for affirmations. I cherished the stories of your practical jokes and loving the sarcastic banter. I hope you know how much comfort and confidence you provided when I knew that my daddy would take care of me, be my voice when I couldn't find my own, and protect me from harm. I remember you teasing my friends and their children and the phrase "If I didn't tease you, it meant I didn't like you." I literally broke down in tears when Shanna called me to check on me after you died. She asked if there was anything she could do for me and I sobbed when I told her that she already did everything. She got married and gave me the chance to see you, visit you, and create memories one more time. I was never so grateful for a trip than that one. I am so glad that we took the additional few days to visit a place that you'd never been to. You passed on the love of traveling and I'll think about that when we travel. I learned that you did love me, in your way. I learned to realize that you had strong opinions because of your heart. You wanted things done a certain way because you felt that was the right way. It's because you cared so so much. I think back to the conversations and debates that we had and realize that this was your way to engage with me about my own passions, too. I realized that you're really the only one in our family who truly "got" me. I sure hope I can live up to the legacy you left. To honor you. I miss you incredibly. I hear your voice, I see your eyes, I hear your laugh. I feel your hugs as you'd say hi or bye when either of us would travel to visit the other. I hear you affectionately calling me "Sissy" at times. I also know that one day I will indeed see you again. And what a day that will be. Until then, my world has changed more than I ever imagined and my heart is broken. I love you, Daddy!! 

                                                                                            

all contents (c) 2021 Laura Inglis