My Daddy
From the age of 0 to my early teens, my father could do no wrong. He was my hero. He was my model of manhood that would endure, cloud and haunt my perspective of men, practically forever. My father was a Renaissance man. He came to Detroit from Arkansas armed with his 8th grade book education, community endowed street smarts, and genetically inherent intellect and proceeded to make a life for himself in the industrial rich city of Detroit, Michigan in the 1950's. Quickly, he knew he was not a "Yes, sir boss" kind of guy. So, he didn't work in any of the factories with the guaranteed income. No. He had to do things his way. He started his own business as an excavating contractor. He was a natural engineer and he turned his small operation into a successful one. But before it became a success we struggled without knowing the extent of what he endured to be a success. He provided my mother, my younger sister, and me with a modest home, plenty of food on the table, a private school education and money in the bank. He followed his gut and provided for our family his way. But that wasn't why he was my hero. He was my hero because he always made me feel safe and secure. That there was no problem on the planet he wasn’t able to solve. He never let me down during those early years. He stood up to injustice and no one disrespected him, his family or the block where we lived. Most of the men of his generation and in our community were like that. They believed in taking care of their families and protected their communities. They fought the good fight and would hold their ground no matter what. When I discovered his flaws and that he was not invincible I made a truce with the truth. He liked women and they liked him, need I say more. He had a tendency to be extravagant and while he was successful in his business, he didn't always make the wisest decisions when it came to his finances. He was sentimental and always wanted to go back to his roots, the farm, and own land his family never acquired. They were sharecroppers and what happened to them after he left gets vague.
He wasn't religious by any means. He questioned the existence of a god because of the historic and systematic struggles black people have endured here in America. What good did this belief do for us? He wasn't alone in his beliefs. He had friends, black and white, that questioned the same beliefs, with a sharp eye on the reality - what was happening here on Earth and not the fantasy - what was promised in an afterlife. He was political but never voted. He naturally gravitated toward Malcolm X and not the Dr. King's approach to civil rights. And like most ‘smart’ men of that time knew it was best to let my mom take control of our education and spiritual direction. For that I am grateful. But common sense, a discerning eye, a sense of independence and a belief that the Constitution and the Bill of Rights does apply to each, and every one of us, he modeled that in many ways. And while he was flawed like we all are, he never let me feel like he didn't have my back. If I really needed him, he would be there because he loved me. The way I loved him. Always.
Happy Father's Day, Daddy!
I miss you.
Remembering Father: A Goodbye Tribute
Ascension- 82913
by Shonda Nicholas
Your blood courses through the veins of our very existence
you breathed, therefore we are
Planted seeds into the womb of heavenly assurance
Participated in the cultivation of new life
The mother of our earth
birthed us into this world of
joy, longsuffering and laughter
while you gave what you had to give, what you knew how to give
with each breath we took, each step we made
we, stretched out our hands to grasp your fingertips
wishing to live, to breathe and be loved
within your eyes we deeply gazed,
searching for glimmers of ourselves
that brought you joy
Longed for with each word you spoke
to hear those cheers of approval and support
While God has been Filling Cups and we have been Calling Him Up
our mother has been singing Take Me to the King,
well before the song was ever composed
So in this moment
as we usher you off
and you begin your ascension
Going Up Yonder
We worry not about the reception that awaits, cause
contrary to popular belief, God does not require you
to be a member of no church
doesn’t require you to be baptized
or washed in anything but his love
God only asks that you decide which jersey you gone wear
see God knows that you saw his face and experienced his grace
every time you were in the company of your family and friends
God knows that you heard his voice
each and every time you witnessed your grandchildren’s laughter
God knows that you walked with Jesus
each time you mustered up the courage
to get out of bed in the morning
Each time you sang burn baby burn
you were burning down walls of your own suffering
each time you sang burn baby burn
you were inviting us to participate in your joy
each time you sang burn baby burn
you were getting closer to home
each time you sang
Up above my head I hear music in the air - I hear music!
That makes me know there's (somebody) a promise somewhere
you were talking bout the god of your understanding
so in this moment we freshen the path with cool water fresh cool water
and lay a table before you of Kit Kats, Spare Ribs and a Pepsi
sending you home Bobby
sending you home Daddy
sending you home Uncle Bobby
sending you home Pop-Pop
sending you home Nick
to be with your Lord
Brother, Son, Father, Friend
A Photo Tribute to Present and Future Fathers
