Daddy and Me

I was a questioning child...always wanting to know the why of any matter. This is a hard question for any parent to answer at the best of times. However, Daddy always tried to answer my questions--no matter how difficult, and, if he did not know the answer tried to source the answer that was required. He never let me down in this and often had to tell me to be patient but he never forgot the question asked and always found me an appropriate answer when possible. I learned, early in life, that there is not always an immediate or any answer to some of the questions we may have about the world around us. The important thing is that daddy listened to my questions and provided honest answers even if they were not the ones I wanted to hear.

As a child, daddy was my go-to parent. Although he was seldom home, when he was home he listened to me and heard whatever it was that I was trying to say. He read between the lines of my words and understood what I was saying. This was particularly consequential as I am an introvert and, as such, sometimes had a really hard time relating to others and getting them to understand me as a child (and even now as an adult although I have become much better at expressing myself clearly this is still a difficult task). I now realize that daddy, too, was an introvert...which is why he was able to have such a profound effect on me and how I perceived the world around me. He inherently understood my need to have the information I required to process everything internally. Ultimately, he taught me how to get answers for myself and that how I see the world is not necessarily compatible with the majority of other human beings.

I was also a watcher. This is part of being an introvert. I prefer being alone and conducting relationships one-on-one. Even as a child, daddy respected this part of me and did try to give me exclusive time with him. Although a family of four children is not a large family, it was one where I felt hopelessly lost most of the time because mummy expected me, as the eldest, to be the example setter and responsible for the others. Daddy was not around most of the time, in fact, he was seldom home due to work and other not-so-noble pursuits. Yet, when he was home, he always made time for me to have him to myself. And, he always listened...sometimes saying very little but instead letting me share my childish observations of the world around me with him with absolute intent. I was always able to pick up our last conversation where it was last left off no matter the interval of time--which is how I always knew he was paying attention...something I could never manage with mummy.

I am still this way today. I can go for long periods of time without the need to communicate verbally with my family members or friends. However, when I do wish to communicate, I can be quite the proverbial chatterbox...for short periods of time. I still prefer to be alone because I need the solitude to process the things I learn constantly about the world around me. I still seek to understand why people behave in the manner they do and determine what motivates them. Daddy was also a people watcher. I did not realize this until we spent blocks of time together in his dying years. And then, I realized why I valued my father so highly...I was a rare bird just like him and he knew or inherently sensed this when I was a very young child.

Daddy understood me in a way that no one else did during my early childhood and did not make me feel there was anything wrong with me because I was so different from others. He did not hold me up in comparison to my other siblings and did not expect me to behave in the same manner as they did. I am certain that this was not an easy task because if I wanted to discover something for myself I would try many things to prove or disprove my theories to myself. I could often never explain exactly why I committed an act of disobedience or challenged authority as a child, I knew there would be consequences for those acts, but the knowledge gained through the experiences had more value to me than any punishment that might be inflicted upon me.

Thankfully, I did learn to curb the impulse to conduct these experiments as I grew older and be very careful about how far I pushed the boundaries that others deem acceptable. This is mostly due to the fact that daddy was very careful in how he disciplined me...most often allowing me the option of choosing my own punishment for disregarding the rules or wishes of others. And when I left him with no other option than to severely address the undesirable behavior, daddy would carefully explain to me why he had to discipline me instead of just saying "because". He would further explain why it hurt him to have to resort to any form of punishment and let me know why my behavior disappointed him. I don't remember daddy ever being angry at me...just disappointed and sad that he had to resort to punishment to teach me an important lesson.

This unusual relationship between daddy and me also allowed me to learn some very important life lessons at a very early age. Lessons that encompassed intangibles like religion, prejudice, acceptance, tolerance, compassion, empathy, and individuality. Because he was willing to spend the time explaining things to me and finding creative ways to prove things to me, I learned that human beings are definitely not one-size-fits-all creatures; that the only way to discover what does fit is through listening and hearing what is not said every bit as much as what is said--that actions speak much louder than words. In essence, daddy taught me to watch the actions that accompany the words in able to be able to formulate an understanding of others and the things they say and do.

While he also taught me concrete things like how a man shaves, how to make an electromagnet, how to hammer a nail or shoot a gun, and a myriad of other things that caught my attention as a child, it was the ethereal things he taught me that were more important then and still hold my attention and consideration today. Daddy taught me how to hide my fear of others, how to look for the answers I require, how to look at any problem from as many perspectives as possible, and how to be true to my own nature. He taught me that tolerance is not acceptance and that people seldom say exactly what they mean. He showed me that being different is seldom accepted or appreciated because others fear what they are not familiar with. He showed me that it is okay to dance to my own music even though others may not approve or like my dance.

Now, do not get me wrong. Daddy had a lot of faults. He was an alcoholic and made a lot of mistakes because of his addiction. He did things that got talked about on the school grounds and brought me shame, embarrassment, humiliation, and bullying from others. My father was far from anyone's idea of perfect. But, none of that mattered to me because he was the only person who made me feel loved and understood. He was the only person who made me feel I was not totally alone in this world. Daddy was the only one who accepted me with all my quirks and faults and never made me feel less than or worse than anyone else.

I always knew that I was not like everyone else, as a young child growing up where daily contact was only with my immediate family. I thought that I didn't really belong because I could not identify or connect with my mother or my sisters on either an emotional or social level. My difference from them was something I was acutely aware of even though I had no words to describe this self-awareness. I could never seem to make myself feel things the way others seemed to interact with each other. Difficulties with these feelings of alienation only grew more profound as my awareness of the external world of others increased. The only times where I felt safe and unthreatened by my difference from my family members was when Daddy was near. Even knowing that he was not away but simply in town at work eased some of the incredible pressure I felt when in the presence of those I was so different from. The only person I ever felt emotionally on equal ground with was my father; therefore, to others--particularly mummy, it would seem that I favored my daddy. It was never that I loved him more or worshipped him...he was the only person I instinctively knew related me to a way that others could not.

When, later in mid-life, I sought psychiatric assistance...I believed that there was something seriously wrong with me...that I was defective in some way that I was completely abnormal and could not be fixed because I had already spent forty years trying to become the things my mother, sisters, and most everyone expected of me. I could not seem to bridge the gap between who they thought I was to who I actually was and still am. This was an extremely difficult period of time for me because daddy and I were estranged from the time I was 12-13 until I was about 40. Every person in my life was someone who could not relate to me although I could relate to them. I could not grasp how I could be so different from all the other people in my life and not have them accept or recognize my differences. The only thing that kept me alive during my middle years was knowing that my father understood me and loved me the way I was/am. I clung to this lifeline in a manner that reinforced my mummy's belief that I loved daddy more than her...which became a struggle I could never win because I had no means to validate her feelings.

After numerous tests and long, long talks, my psychiatrist helped me better understand both myself and those not like me. Based on the results of multiple tests, the doctor determined that besides being a true introvert that accounts for only roughly thirty percent of the population, the rest of the testing established that all personality traits considered...my personality type only occurs in less than one percent of the population. Well, let me tell you, that was the beginning of a painful odyssey learning how to cope with being so far removed from the mainstream. This is a battle I came very close to losing; however, when my father found out he had terminal cancer and we reconnected, having that source of safety and comfort back in my life provided the edge I needed to fight for my own survival. While this may sound melodramatic to those who fit or belong, it is not! I learned through treatment and exploration that while I may understand and be able to accept others (because I have always had to in order to just survive), others would have great difficulty providing me with the same understanding and acceptance...if possible at all.

So, I had my daddy when I was a child, lost him as a teen, and found him again in middle age. Then, I lost him again as old age approached. While my time with him can actually be measure by days and not years, those days are the ones where I felt safe, validated, heard, recognized, and accepted. Daddy truly loved me unconditionally and I cherish this more than anything else he could have done for me. When I have hard days coping with family and friends, I draw on this love and provide others with the same kind of love daddy showed me. I have very few people in my life...just the family and friends that I love and cherish deeply. I accept them the way they are with no bias or prejudice, learn to forgive, and understand that they will never be able to give me what I need because they are one of the extroverted many.

It is always up to the minority to accept the opinions and actions of the majority. It is always the minority that has to adjust to fit the desires and needs of the many. It is always the minority that has to provide constant assurance and validation to the majority. It is always the minority that has no real input or voice into how they are treated because being the minority allows the majority to minimize and subjugate the few simply because the majority deems it to be so. It is always the minority that will have to adjust or capitulate because the majority is the accepted norm. Daddy taught me these principles when I was a child, and, now that I am an older woman I know exactly why he taught me these things.

In the final thirteen years of his life, daddy prepared me for life without him. Although there will never be another face-to-face, there is always my internal mind-to-mind contact my father and I shared. Daddy, my imperfect hero, taught me how to ultimately learn to deal with the inherent unfairness of this--my--reality. He showed me that it is okay to be me without apology or concession...to maintain my integrity internally even though others may shake their heads or be in total disagreement with me. Daddy schooled me to recognize that others will never see me as I am--they will only ever see me as they think I am because that is how the majority sees things.

There is no right or wrong. There is simply the fact that we are all different and that is neither a good nor a bad thing. Justice without the application of mercy is revenge. Generosity has no expectation of return. Tolerance is not acceptance. Acceptance comes through understanding. Forgiveness is the application of compassion and understanding. Giving in is not the same as giving up. Pick and choose the battles to fight because the war has no end. Consider all possible options and outcomes before committing to any action. Consequences matter less than the righteousness of actions taken. Engaging in a battle that cannot be won is a waste of precious resources. Time does not heal all wounds, it just makes them less painful. Complaining only aggravates any potentially explosive situation. Anger only makes matters worse. Righteous anger is always displayed with respect, consideration, and kindness. Think before speaking because words spoken can never be retrieved. Strength is the result of lessons learned. Courage comes when doing the right thing is all that matters. Respect and courtesy walk hand-in-hand. Dignity and grace are required in difficult situations. Love does not have conditions or make comparisons.

These are the lasting memories and life lessons daddy gave me. These idioms are the constant reminders that daddy is always with me. Though my father was physically absent, an alcoholic, a womanizer, and far less than perfect throughout my childhood, the time that he did spend with me was of great importance in how I learned to navigate the world around me. Because of our shared natures, he was the perfect daddy for me.