The First Time I Meet My Dad

My mother and father did not have this great love story. They were two attractive young people having a great time together, but by early 1972, the fun was over. My mother found herself in a doctor's office feeling ill. To her surprise, they had been so careful; she was pregnant with me.

My father had shared his desire to follow in the footsteps of his two older brothers by having a military career. For this reason, she did not inform him about me. Instead, the plan was to get an abortion and never let him know.

She changed her mind about the abortion but stuck with the rest of her plan.

My father left town without knowing he had a child on the way. After that, they both went on with their separate lives. Several years went by before I was able to meet him.

My mother got married and had two more children. Then six years into the marriage, they called it quits. I learned I had a different father than my sister and brother during their separation.

After my mother got her divorce, she and I moved back to her hometown and the place of my birth. At the time, I was seven years old, getting ready for the second grade.

I longed to meet my dad. My mom told me he was in the navy. He lived in Florida. In my mind, he would rescue me from all my troubles. Why not? He was able to fight for the whole country.

I so looked forward to being a daddy's girl. In my wild dreams, he would be so happy to find out he had a daughter. But, I wanted what my little sister and brother had (a dad that wanted me).

The crazy thing is I met my greatgrandfather before I met my dad.

When I was growing up, all the retired men in the black neighborhood would sit under this big oak tree. They talked, laughed, told jokes, drank beer, and smoked cigars under that tree.

The group of children that walked to and from school had to pass by that tree every day. Then on a bright, clear, and sunny Spring day, one of the older gentlemen motioned for me to come over to him. I was hesitant, but I found my feet walking me over to him.

He looked me straight in my eyes and asked, "Who are your people?". I told him JimmieSue was my grandmother because everyone knew her. He replied, "Okay, dear heart, but you look like you could be related to me.". I smiled and walked away.

A couple of years later, I would find out he knew what he was talking about that day.

The year was 1983. It was the last day of third grade. Everything was going great. My friends and I were walking home from school as usual. Everyone was talking about their family plans for the summer. I was looking forward to spending a month with my grandparents. The others were going on vacation or spending the summer with their fathers.

I would always get silent when other children talked about their fathers. It didn't matter if he lived with them or in another town. I thought they were so lucky to have a father in their lives.

When I got to the street I lived, I noticed a few cars at the next-door neighbor's house. One was this bright red Camaro. It caught my attention from a distance.

As I walked closer to the house, Mr. Larry yelled, "Hey, Lil JimmieSue come here. Come on, don't be shy. I have someone I want you to meet."

When I arrived at Mr. Larry's yard, I saw this tall, dark, clean-shaven man. My mom opened the door as usual when I came home from school. This time she had this look of annoyance on her face.

I was looking at her, but I kept going to see who was with Mr. Larry. He would always treat me as if we were family. I thought he would ask me about my grades or tell this man that I had recently won the Ms. Alph Phi Chi pageant.

Well, I was wrong. The words that came out of Mr. Larry's mouth changed my life forever. He looked at the man and said, "Eddie, this is long overdue. Man, this is your daughter. Look at her. She needs you. I don't know why Lyn didn't tell you, but here she is. You all need to get to know each other."

I was overwhelmed. I had prayed for this moment from the age of six. The man was staring at me with so much tension. Finally, he looked me in the eyes and said, "I am sorry, I didn't have any glue that you existed. Where is your momma?"

I pointed towards the front door where my mom was now standing on the outside looking at us talking,

We walked over to my mom so that they could talk.

The things I had planned to say all my life left my mind. I was in shock. All I could think about was this tall, strong, good-looking black man, maybe my dad. He was better than my dreams, as far as I could see.

They talked where I could not hear them. To this day, I never ask them about the conversation they had that day. They finished up. He came back over to me, looked again, and smiled.

He bent down on one knee, looked me straight in my eyes, and said, "I am so glad to meet you. I am sorry, but I didn't know you existed. I hope you do not think I will not be there for you. I know this is not clear at this time because it is not to me either. We will figure it all out together," He kissed me on the forehead, picked me up, and spun me around. Then he yelled, "I have a daughter yall hear that; I have a daughter!!!!".

He grabbed me by the hand and walked me down the street. I felt a little weird because I didn't know where we were going. His mother and father lived on the same street, only three houses from me.

He took me to his mother and father's home and introduced me to them. The father spoke, but the mother did not. We stayed there a short while; we walked back to my mom.

When we got back, my mom's second husband had come home. He didn't look too pleased. My dad shook his hands to reassure him that all he wanted to do was be there for me.

My dad once again kissed me on the forehead and told me he would be there for me. He never asked for a test to prove I was his child. My mom offered, but he declined.

We have had our ups and downs like any dad and daughter, but he always kisses me on the forehead before we part ways. I love my dad and that kiss on my forehead.

Thank you for Reading!!!