Today’s post is dedicated to my dad and all the other dads out there or father-type figures. I was able to see my dad on Friday after my sister’s graduation here in London ON. I was very thankful (even though it wasn’t right exactly on Father’s day–today) because I know that not everyone has a dad or father-type figure in their life.
I am very thankful for my dad and the fact that he was there for me and my family.
Some of my friend’s growing up used to say to me, “Yo, Naomi… Do you bring boyfriends home? Because if I were to meet your dad, I’d be scared.” Or they tell me, “Man your dad doesn’t say much…”
No he didn’t say much and no I didn’t bring boyfriends home. I didn’t bring boyfriends home because I never had a boyfriend until I was 17 years old. I wasn’t living at home then either.
My dad isn’t/wasn’t scary. He just didn’t say much. But this isn’t why I love him. I love him because even though he didn’t say much, when he did say something… it was said at the right time and for the right reasons.
I remember I was in the hospital after a suicide attempt. I wasn’t allowed to wear my own clothes. I felt like I was in jail. I had a 24 hour monitor making sure I didn’t run away or try to hurt myself further. I really didn’t like that situation at all. And, I am sure that my dad (and the rest of my family) didn’t like to see me in this situation. I knew I shouldn’t be in there either. The women down the hall from me apparently heard snakes underneath her bed. I could hear people crying out in the middle of the night. I just knew I didn’t have to be there. Except I was. And all because I wanted to die, and tried to kill myself.
My dad came to visit me when he could. I was lucky because the other patients didn’t have anyone come and visit them at all.
He brought me lined paper to write on and a pen to write with. I was allowed to have this much in my room and only use it during the day. One day, he came to visit me. Being himself, he didn’t say much that day. However, I remember this day clearly because he sat there on my bed and he opened the book, took the pen and wrote the words on the last paper:
Everything is going to be alright
I kept that piece of paper for a long time. I would open it up and read those words when ever I felt like crap or if things weren’t really going well and I needed a little boost. I remember those words to this day because those words coming from my own dad, really do help.
I don’t know if he remembers writing those words to me on that day as much as I remember today. But sitting here today, those words have helped me to realize that some days are harder than others and some days are easier than others… but in the end, and like my dad wrote that day, everything is going to be alright.
Like I said earlier, my dad doesn’t say much but when he does… it’s the right words at the right time even if it is only written word.
My dad is awesome like that ;)
PS. Kudos to single parents who are both the father and the mother. Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there and father-type figures!