My First Angel

My First Angel

2002 was a year for two incredible firsts for me.

I recorded my professional demo cd with a band.

More importantly, Gianna Marie Scott was born.

At first I was so afraid that I tried to deny that I was her father and practically ran from her mother. I was not there for her mother too much during the pregnancy. It wasn’t until a close friend of mine Neaka basically forced Gianna’s mother to bring her to one of my shows so I could be outside and meet my new first little person. I held her for the first time and I decided that I had to make an attempt to be in her life. She was and still is my angel.

The main problem for not staying with her mother was I wasn’t in love. I tried being around her mother to see if it could work, but I noticed that if I did I would have ended up miserable. That in turn would have created a miserable relationship I would have eventually left. Instead of showing Gianna how to not be in a healthy relationship I decided not to stay.

I know that this has the Darth Vader affect where who we see as the villain is really just doing what he thinks is right. Believe me, while most of the time I stick by the opinion that it was the right thing to do for Gianna, there are some times that I miss her so much that I wonder if the exchange would have been equal trading relationship happiness in order to be around a shining ray of light everyday.

Off and on I used her mother for the obvious plus, at one point, a place to live. This was a huge scumbag move. I really messed with her heart that I knew was still beating for me. Back then I looked at it like self preservation, but I think about it know and I am so ashamed that I took advantage of a person who had love for me.

That is a big regret for me because I think that may have had a detrimental repercussion on me being able to see her.

But this isn’t about me.

13 years of daughter goodness. Even if from a distance I have watched her grow from an acorn to a tree. She was a princess then and she still is. Gianna has grown into a young lady that I am very proud of. She is kind, funny, and has a personality that is going to make her mother buy a bat to beat the boys off.

Did I mention that she is beautiful?

Don’t believe me? Go back to the picture.

I wish we could be closer or she was here with me. I am a better person when she is around me. She is my center and my grounding.

I love her.

There is a need inside of me for her presence much like a sprouting flower needs water and sunlight. Maybe she keeps me young and vibrant, but at the end of the day it’s more of the idea that while daughters need daddies, daddies also need daughters.

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Two Years On

Two Years On

It has been two years since my father has passed away. In our time together in my later years we got so close that sometimes I still feel him among the living. Every moment that was meaningful I did not get to see him witness it even though I know he is watching. He was more than a father, in essence he was my friend and confidant. I felt the most comfortable in my skin when I was around him.

Things obviously are not the same. I would get on Facebook in the morning and there he was. He would say good morning hammertoe and then the day would start. He was my silent support. I knew every minute of the day that he had my back no matter what. I find myself still not being able to believe he is gone. I have dreamt of him and did not want to wake up. Even though this pain is inevitable for everybody and we know it will happen, it does not make it any easier.

I am the earth, and the sun I revolved around has burnt out, I am so cold that I am numb. Next I will be frozen, with my mouth open and extra lumpy patches of ice under my eyes. My beacon is gone, so I have become a lost ship in the empty, dark night headed for rocks. I will break apart. I will fall into the sweet, unmoving swirl of heartbreak.

What path is mine Dad? Will I eventually be better?