Because I said so

You can find this post located at Dallas's first non-profit news site called Dallas South News later today or tomorrow morning.

Much has been said of the need of father or male role model in a young boy’s life. I often feel as if the need of a father is neglected or rarely seen as a significant for little girls. A mom can do many things for young girl. A mother can teach her daughter the proper way to conduct herself as a lady, she can teach her about Femininity, and coach her through the grand discovery of womanhood (i.e. menstruation). Yet, there is something mistakenly pivotal in the relationship between a father and his daughter.

My mother and father divorced while my brothers and I were reaching that critical stage of realization that something or someone was missing. Fortunately, for us our grandparents stepped in and shouldered the burden of a newly single and divorced mother of three. While my mother grappled with beginning to start a new life on her own with minimal skills and rearing the three of us my grandparents were there.

My fondest memory of my grandfather occurred when I was in the eighth grade I was being inducted into the National Honor Society for the first time. My mother had purchased a god-awful black dress with a million and one flowers on it reminiscent of the floral background to one of my granny’s couches. I wore ruffled socks, and black patent leather shoes, while channeling my inner Sally Jesse Raphael (I had red glasses at the time). I burst out crying I thought I looked horrible. I was already much taller than many of the other girls in school so I felt like an oversized walking flower display with buck teeth. I don’t know if my pawpaw heard me crying but when I went to the living room to show off my ugly dress he said “you sure look pretty tonight, I’m proud of you”. I went from instant ugly duckling to believing I was going to be the prettiest girl inducted into the National Honor Society later that evening.

Growing up without a father was extremely painful in particular for my middle brother who I will never forget cried one night to my granny “why doesn’t my dad want me”. Children internalized and present their hurt differently. For me I was able to channel the missing father into a fierce desire to always outperform anyone else for others it manifest itself in the form of acting out, an all to familiar cry for attention.

I am so proud of my brothers; I can only believe that the role our grandfather played in our early lives had a profound affect on their interaction with their children today. My middle brother is so careful with his daughter; I have never seen someone so protective of another tiny being. My baby brother is treated like the greatest man alive by his kids. He was deployed for a year and despite their young age they remembered him running screaming daddy, daddy, daddy throwing themselves at his legs.


I miss my grandfather. He missed some very important events in my later life like, my college graduation and he missed walking me down the aisle at my wedding. As my little brother escorted me down the aisle I began crying, imagining my grandfather placing my hand in my husbands while kissing my cheek and telling me to be happy. His physical presence was missed but I believe his spirit was there that day like so many days before.

Men you were given the role of protector and provider. Remember your role and the importance God has placed on you, your families are in need of you. I have an unwavering belief that the coming generation will see a turn around in the number of active fathers, my brothers, and so many more men give me hope.

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