I grew in a house full of women, like a lot of ppl have… That house consisted of my Mother, sister and me. My Father also lived with us but in a household ratio of 3:1, the odds were most definitely against him. I wondered growing up why my father was the least out spoken of us all, other than me (if you can imagine). My favorite hiding spots were under the dining room table, my closet and the vestibule. I would get my shit: my books and dolls, a few blankets and a couple of bed pillows and stay there until my “cousin” came over to play. Because unlike my mother, his mother was a single mother. So my “cousin” and his brother would spend more days at my home then their own.
My dad on the other hand, like most dad’s in this situation hid in plain sight. His hiding spot was on the foot of the bed watching Wrestling, war movies and westerns. I could spend time with him (as long as I was quiet) at the foot of the bed seated on the floor, just enjoying being near him. As you can guess, we were closer than any other relationship in the house. As I got older (and more verbal) we would go for drives and movies together. We talked and played cards, I would tell him about my day and he would do the same. When I became a woman we fought about out world views, he was Military (Reserve at that time) and I was a Liberal, although we rarely saw eye to eye we always respected each other’s views. I remember the hours we spent under the hood of cars or hanging sheet rock (I was daddy’s boy) not speaking but communicating well. He is the candle all men of my life were held to and still are… I wondered for years why he was never more out spoken in the house until I became the head of a house full of women.
As I sit in my bathroom with my laptop, hiding from the crazy women in my house I finally understand… some battles just aren’t worth fighting, some arguments aren’t worth having and the mood swings make you nuts. God bless that man for not nailing our front door shut and setting the house on fire, smh.