I'm sitting inside of a tight counter restaurant with my daughter known for Southern food in NoHo. This is a bit of a surprise considering that I was told to expect the most amazing seafood. It's a shruggable moment considering my daughter is a bit of a flake that's been chipped off of the big flake that is yours truly. I adore her immensely and she's one of the rays of light in my life. And at this moment in this very claustrophobic counter space that almost resembles half a train car, she 's chatting up our very attentive server. A gorgeous woman with bright brown eyes and the skin of rich obsidian with a hint of a Caribbean accent that brings out much more of her charm.
I'm a bit annoyed considering I haven't seen my daughter in a few months and she all of a sudden said she wanted to meet me for a Sunday meal. I've figured that the time away was due to her work schedule and perhaps meeting a certain someone who makes them feel special even at a time like this. Although her sexuality does give me a bit of a headache only in categorizing who she prefers and who'd she'd be intimate, but that's more of a pet peeve of mine when it comes to categorization and imaginary Ven Diagrams. Either way, I'm watching her interact with this woman wondering if she sparked her fancy and that either she's just very interested in our conversation or it was simply being in close quarters and just passing the time with a bit of a chat.
Yea, I can't read the situation or I'm just trying to negate it. Yea, she's really interested in our relationship and I'm used to being considered a perv on sight considering my daughter has my side of the family's dominant genes that make her this magnificent goddess of form, to say the least. I've overheard many a jerk call her out on the proportions of her body and in many ways tried to have her embrace her form rather than have an almost destructive puritanical mindset of an army of dicks surging her. We both know it's true and she's more than capable to handling herself against any criticism and rude gesture. It's simply the shock of it all considering that I at times am amazed at how small she used to be and that her giggles used to be the motivation of my life. I adore her and even now she makes me proud as any person can be for their progeny.
And yet, we have our issues and problems and much soon after we leave the restaurant to find a smaller venue in shade, to hear why she had been missing from my life once more and how we should continue to keep in touch regardless of how hard life can get. The word that I'd rather not mention her get floated around and I hear her tale of difficulty not understanding the value of true friends who run towards you when you begin to stumble and fall. And how our pasts, both filled with turmoil, trauma, and difficulty have taken a cost in our lives that we are beginning to comprehend and gather understanding on what we can do as individuals and as family.
I remind her that although I am her father and I know more and have an abundance of experience, she is the captain of her own vessel and there is a great chance I may not understand her situation. She has ultimate veto. She has the ability to take taking or disregarding my advice as she see fit, and I remind her that we are equals now and that she has a voice that she must exercise with me and others in order to set boundaries and guides for relationships. I know she's a "big girl" and "daddy" won't be there to pick her up at times, but she can come see me for council and I will always be in her corner despite anything outside of murder and how to eat sushi. We laugh and she learned hard lessons that I realized came at a great cost. I was not there to come to her aid because I was seen as father, a title that harms me in this moment, rather than friend. Thankfully her own circle of magnificent individuals came to her aid and showed her the value of a true friend.
I stifled my emotion because I wanted to weep because of what trespassed and I wanted to be there. And yet, I more than understand. Sometimes we do not seek the comfort of those who will pull us up and we hide ourselves in our pain and misery. I'm thankful for these people who did what I would do and she snapped out of her self-delusion that mistrust and pain can put us in. I offered my place in her life, not as one to pass judgment, but as an outsider. I mention how in truth I could not raise her considering her and her brother were taken to Ohio and places unknown by her mother. A satellite parent is only viable if they are able to keep communication. Sadly, that was the first thing to be lost and in the matter for 4 or so years, I've heard stories that confirmed my fears, caused me much heartbreak, and have caused me to burn in impotent rage at what came about by "well-meaning individuals" who believe that their words is beyond law and the cost was grave.
The worst thing about trauma is that it's much like a hand grenade. It does damage and even if some die, some are affected permanently, other can recover and some even were out fo the blast, that trauma took a price from each of those people in the room where none of them were free of harm and without help that moment will dictate the horrors to come. We all started therapy roughly at the same time. We all tried to deal with that grenade and what it took from each of us and what it took from others and how do we move on.
Even now I can not help to think that some 4 years ago I was determined to end my life. I still can see the pain and hurt I was enduring with no exit, held back from pleading for help by social constructs that murder us all in the end. My sole choice was to end it reasonable until someone dear to me had beat me to the punch. And even then I witnessed how my friend took his life weeks before me and the only thought in my head was anger towards him ruining my exit.
And then, I broke. I started to realize that silence was what people knew best from these people. Not their pain, but silence. So not wanted to leave in the same way I broke the last band I had on me and I spoke out. I want to die. I am not well. I have endured my lot and I can not go one to see tomorrow. It scared many and I didn't care. I wanted them to know why I was leaving and why I was going to commit a "sin" towards everyone. To leave them with my horror, not stifling it with the end of my life.
That's the fucked up part, you don't end it, just you. You end your endurance, but pass on the burden and hell of the moment.
I still think of those days. Even now as I am so far from it, I can almost feel the lingering grasp of those desperate and hurtful moments. It's a part of me. It's still with me and I know if I do not remain diligent and honest, I will allow it to take me. Even now how October changed everything and November has proved difficult for years to come, I know I can endure more and that I don't have to. My outsider has told me to embrace my huge circle of friends not as someone who'd protect them, but as someone who need comfort and to be healed. I let myself be weak, even though it's my greatest bane. I can not allow myself to.
And yet, that only lead towards my death.
So I did. I challenged myself and pushed myself and I gained greatly.
I'm happy I did not take my life and for those in my life, who work often as outsiders who pull me out of the vicious cycle my mind can create and heal me with the closest of embraces and a whisper of, "You are ok, I have you."
Even now, I wonder what could have been if I only tried to do what I could not back then. I knew I could not, but now I look back at it as meaningless. Time wasted.
I return you now moments before our leaving the tiny restaurant with hot grill and the magnificent figure of womanhood my daughter was talking up. At our leaving all I could endure was to wonder why I felt so awkward and odd. And yet, I wanted out of the small space and odd air, My daughter asked for this woman's number.
Why?
Well for Dad, especially considering she was apparently flirting with me and I ignore it simply because I was with her and wanted to hear so much from her. Sorry, I was in Dad mode and I'm focused only on my kid. There was a time when, as I reflect that my daughter had always turned away any attention given to me by women, announcing that I was radiantly gay and happy with my out behaviour and lifestyle. She did this because she didn't want her father to find anyone else. She wanted this because she kept hope for her parents reuniting. She did this because this was something she could do. Many times I'd laugh, only being social to ensure that both my children receive as many sprinkles on their ice cream as possible that a beaming smile can receive. And yet, I was always "outed" to teachers, parents, women simply asking, or anyone not male asking me for the time of day. She even told one man that I was straight when he asked if it was true that I was out.
My daughter. And now she's getting her number. For dad.
I know.......my daughter has inherited my taste for chaos, mirth, and shenanigans.
I can not be more proud of her.
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