let's talk about men

I guess it begins with David. 


My dad was the best dad ever.
He took on the role like a champ. Two daughters can be a handful but two daughters who are intrigued by everything and involved in everything sounds impossible. My dad was in the stands at my basketball games correcting papers. We could find him setting up a tether ball pole, he made himself on the side of our house. He was the first to acknowledge and embrace my artsy side. I remember sitting at our piano when I was about 5 years old, and plunking out songs by ear-- I was enrolled in piano lessons shortly after. He was the first to help me run lines for the first plays I was in. I use to listen to him play guitar for hours. He'd let me strum while he played the chords. He helped me write. Young Authors Conferences that came annually meant quality father daughter time revising my stories like "David Meets the Moon" after dinner. My dad had time for me and took time for me, no questions asked he was there. 


While, the memories I have about my dad are many and detailed, our time together was short lived.


He's been gone for almost 10 years, which still breaks my heart everyday. While his presence is gone, so much of my live revolves around him.


So lets talk about men. 


Ever since my dad died, I have had to reteach myself how to interact with men. I don't have a dad to protect me from all the crazy boys who find their way to my door. I don't have a daily reminder of what its like to live with a man. I've been confused multiple times whether I shake hands or give hugs to men I see it stores. I know that I can do either but its the essence of wondering what my dad would have done. How do I approach a man? I think this has made me come off a lot more timid than I am.I am assertive when I need to be but is this how was suppose to be? How different would I be if my dad was still here teaching me how to interact with guys?


The last advice my dad ever gave me about boys was "Moll don't get a boyfriend. Let boys take you out to dinner, the movies, or get to know you.--be the cool girl everyone gets to know". If my dad would still be alive, I probably could have been more of that girl. After he died, having someone around consistently didn't sound bad, because I had lost male presence in my life. Naturally the first boy I dated after my dad died was a complete jerk who took advantage of me and when all I wanted was company, he wanted so much more. Glad I got one bad one out of the way because the rest have really challenged me, in a good way. Each boyfriend since the awful dreaded, "lessoned learned" jerk face has had great influence in my life. 


Still when dealing with boyfriends, I have this intuition that they will leave. I've worked on not letting this drive me crazy or drive people away but ultimately, I don't think anyone will understand where I am coming from. There is something about seeing red lights outside your house on a Thursday morning, hearing the news "Your dad isn't coming home" and thinking back to the promises he made. He said that he'd always be around, but he's not. There is something to be said about that pain and it will be with me forever. And its created a guard. I have to be wary about everyone I meet, because even the biggest promises are broken by the people you love most.


I remember screaming "Who's going to walk me down the aisle!!!" and my grandpa whimpering at my side, holding me tight and crying in my ear "I'll do it Moll, I'll do it." Now he's gone too. This past September, I lost the second most influential man in my life, Papa. I am lucky that  grandpa lived down the block from me my whole life. He was a lot like my dad but he had a rougher side to him. "I graduated last in my class" was what he constantly reminded us, as a joke. He was proud of me for taking pride in my education. In reality, Papa is the most educated man in my family. Being a garbage man for 30+ years, he's literally been around the block a few times. My Papa taught me about people, which I have found gets you a lot farther than you may think. He would ride his bike around town, waving at everyone knew, which was pretty much everyone. It was no shock that at his funeral the line to get in stretched around the block.  I miss him.


So I have this distorted view of men and the consistency in which they are in my life and the quality of the relationships I have with them. No one will ever be like my dad and  no one will ever be like my Papa. Special places in my heart have been left and filled by those two. I won't have another dad or another grandpa ever again. 


I do however have some great men in my life.

Each of them have their quirks. Pieces of them remind me of my dad. They all  have an attribute I want in a man.

Uncle Brian is a rocker. He's who I can go to jam out and write songs with. When the songs start to sound a little bit familiar, hes the first to ask me if everything is ok. He has a soft side. Never had a child of his own, he see's me as a daughter. He loves his sisters and still acts like the annoying baby brother to them. It's comfortable and familiar whenever Uncle Brian is around.


Uncle Elvisy, my god father and my dad's best friend, has small but important role in my life. He's not someone I know very well, or see often but he knows my dad best out of any of the men in my life. He had always sent me chocolate on Valentines Day, but since my dad died those packages mean so much more. Its just nice to know there is someone out there that makes a yearly gesture. I can count on an Elvis box filled with chocolate. He also attended all the most important events in my life so far (that's us at my HS graduation to the left). He came down for my plays in high school, which really meant a lot to me. Everyone knew he was there because he has a shrilling whistle that you can't miss. Uncle Elvisy supports me.


Bill. There is something about Bill that reminds me so clearly of my dad. He has the passion for life my dad had but he also has the deep breaths my dad had. Those same deep breaths represent the childhood my dad and Bill shared. They grew up with money but overtime both of them realized money can't buy happiness, in fact money can make you mad. I don't see Bill as a symbol of money and partly because I've known him since I was 5. I see him as a person instead of a name. With Bill, I have to listen closely and carefully to his words. A man of few words but he says so much. He constructs his words to the point. I appreciate Bill because he's a planner and he values quality. He likes to reminisce about the past, but when he does that I know its his way of saying how proud he is of the woman I've grown up to be.




Curtis. The brother I never had and the first to beat up anyone who does me wrong. Close enough in age to be friends to far enough away where the big brother comes out in him... often.  I value Curtis' character because he lives life. While he's not a planner but he's one of the biggest dreamers I know. He reminds me to never give up and its ok to ask for help.


Jim. Last but not least. Never would I have thought that Jim would make my list of surrogate fathers, but lo and behold, 9 years last I finally appreciate Jim. I don't want to go all in the trials and tribulations that surround my relationship with Jim (that's a whole different story), right now I just want to embrace that I overcame a lot to accept him in my life and I'm glad I did so. Jim is smart. Book smart. Technology smart. He hasn't done everything right in his life, but he strives to do good. I respect that. I took his consistency in my life for granted. I now realize how much time he put in, wanting to get to know me where I wouldn't give him the time of day. He believed in me when I didn't believe in him or even myself. Those are the best kind of people to keep in your life. I'm glad he's in my life.






I'm lucky to have these men in my life.