F-a-t-h-e-r

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Last night…

I had the most interesting dream.

In it, I was six years old…

in a national spelling bee.

Feeling like a genius as I spelled complex words….

duodenum….

serendipity…..

floccinaucinihilipilification….

up until the final round

one word between me and victory

the spell master clears his throat

young lady your word is father

the crowd began to chatter amongst themselves

seemingly displeased

at the simplicity of this final word

I searched for those eyes

those eyes that say

“every things going to be ok, just do it”

And there she was, as beautiful as always…

I dazed off

young lady!

your word is father

I stood up straight, looked at her and began

father, m-o-t-h-e-r, father…

the spell master looks at me,

down at his flash card,

back up at me,

“sorry but you are incorrect”

I don’t understand…

My father is sitting right in the audience

“excuse me?”

“I am sorry young lady but you are incorrect”

well then,

you can save your sorry apologies

because you must mean “in-correct”

as in within the parameters of being right.

let me explain something to you

cuz obviously you did not grow up

where “father’s” are donors

just a human being who donates the soil to make the seed grow

and when he’s gone

all he’s left us

was alone

where minstrel men stroll around off sight

while fathers balanced their menstrual,

3 jobs,

4 kids

and a life

on a unicycle

and it looks something like this:

breastfeeding on one arm

phone on the shoulder

cooking with the other arm

cleaning with one leg

tying sneakers with their teeth

young fathers

who make mistakes to think that love lived in their place, before he left

But we are not all perfect and they learned to live

And the one mistake they never make

is abandoning their seeds

you see fathers

are master gardeners

they tend to every leaf

removing the weeds

placing us in the windows of opportunity

so that we can lean towards the sun

and never forget that the sky is the limit

planting kisses on our cheeks

hugs on our backs

growing their love on us

the best way they know how

like my father

my father, sacrificed owning nothing,

so that I may have everything

my father, walked a daily nightmare

so that I may live out my dreams

my father watered me

with blood sweat and tears

so that I may be ripe

for the harvest

and I hope that one day

I can grow up to be as great a father

as she was for me

you did not ask me to spell deadbeat sir…

but if you want dead beat here it is:

f-a-t-h-e-r,
d-a-d,
d-a-d-d-y,
p-o-p,
p-o-p-s,
if you want the slang

And if you want an actual name…

F-r-a-n-k

you asked me to spell father

and father is, and always has been,

and always will be spelled…

m-o-t-h-e-r

so get your encyclopedias,

show me your flash cards

open your dictionary

cuz what webster says

means nothing around here

around here,

my father is sitting right there…

and I love her.

Because with out my father, with out her, I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today.

Happy Father’s Day to my wonderful, wonder woman who is now in Heaven watching over me♡

I love you momma 🙂

Kbeautifulmind

-This entire poem did not originate with me, it is a remake of a poem I once heard.
Thank you for reading…

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An open letter to my absent father…

“When a father walks out on his daughter he takes a piece of her soul with him.” Iyanla Vanzant

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I have to admit when I was a kid not having a father was hard. I remember not understanding why I couldn’t be a “daddy’s girl/princess” like the rest of my friends. I use to wonder what would happen when the moment came that I would get married to my “Prince Charming?”

Who would walk me down the aisle?

I hated fathers day because that meant making some kind of arts and craft decoration and when it came to speaking up about who we were going to give it to…

I’d lie and say “my uncle….”and as I walked out of class I’d just throw it away.
I will never forget an incident in the 4th grade when I threw away this box thing we had made and my class mate caught me and asked

“Kelsey your box was the best one? I thought you were going to give it to your uncle who has been like a dad to you? Let me guess you don’t know who your dad is do you? Don’t feel bad I know this girl who doesn’t know who her dad is because her mom use to go out a lot TOO and got pregnant very young…”
In that moment I don’t know what was hotter my burning red face or my sweater that was making me sweat…
I said to her “Too? I don’t know what your talking about but I DO know who my dad is but, I just happen to have a pretty awesome mom who left him because he was mean to her…”
I couldn’t believe what this girl had just said to me!?

I mean I was only 9 years old but I knew exactly what kind of woman was a woman who “had a lot of fun” and didn’t know who the father of her child was…

and that was NOT the case for my mom at all!
After that incident I really grew up…

Although the arts and crafts activities wouldn’t follow me to middle school, I was finally proud of not having a dad.

I was glad I didn’t have to celebrate fathers day for someone who didn’t deserve it, and I might have only been 9 but in that moment I knew exactly who would walk me down the aisle someday…

and that ladies and gentlemen was and will be my Mother.

Even though my father has made his way back into the lives of my sister and I a couple of times, god knows even if we tried to let him in… it would be a very bad idea.

I mean we have actually tried but it never turns out pretty…

An open letter to my absent father…

Dear Frank;
I don’t hate you, although you have done and said some pretty crucial things to me, I don’t hate you.
I don’t hate you because if it wasn’t for your involvment with my mother…

I wouldn’t be here today,
for that I thank you.
You know when I was a kid I missed you, I don’t know what I missed but, I know that I missed you, the “dad” I never had. I missed someone to comb my hair before I went to bed, or read me a bed time story. Someone to chase the boys away and tell me that no guy would ever be good enough for his baby girl.
However, what I wanted more than anything in this world…

was a hug.

I dreamed of that moment where I would find you, and you would wrap your arms around me and tell me; “Honey, I missed you.”
When you finally contacted us, I’ll never forget that moment!

It was like Michelle and I had just been told we won the lottery!

We were nervous, and scared, but very excited to meet you.

I know she also couldn’t sleep the night before and I’m sure she was also wondering what you would be like?

If you would be happy to see us?

I expected a sweet man with a BIG present (not that the material things mattered but its just what I imagined), and a man so excited to see us that he’d tell us; “Sit down and tell me everything about you? What do you want to be when you grow up? Whats your favorite food? Whats your favorite color?”

But you were nothing like I/we imagined…

and a part of me is sad and disappointed I ever let you in my life…

I mean at least if I would have never “re met” you…

I could have just forever imagined that you were a wonderful, and loving dad who missed us.

But, the other part of me is glad I got to meet the real you.

I got to know your true colors and you got to set the perfect example of everything I don’t want to be…

or of the kind of future husband I pray I dont choose…

So the truth I really don’t hate you even if you’ve said to me;

“The day you die I am going to thank god for it!”

I just feel sorry for you, and I pray that someday before you must leave this earth that you ask god for forgiveness and that you may find peace in your heart.

I pray for you always Frank, and that the day you are gone may your soul be able to rest in peace.

Good luck “dad”…

and…

Incase you care my favorite colors have always been yellow, pink, and white.

My favorite food is Italian, Asian and Mexican.

I want to be a forensic psychologist or a marriage and family therapist when I “grow up”.

Sincerely;

Your Daughter

Kbeautifulmind.