My Daddy

I have this on MySpace, but I figured I could reach my "other audience" if I put it on here as well.

While I have your attention, please keep in mind that the following is from the other day, Friday the 13th. Such a creepy date, such a superstitious frame of mind... Anyway. Dad is fine. That is what I need to make quite clear. Dad is just fine. We aren't sure what he did, pulled a muscle or something, but otherwise, a-okay.

Read on... :)

I look back at the last twenty-six years and I am amazed at the changes that I have gone through with my dad. I have always known that he loved me and wanted me, he was just always busy working and didn't get to spend a lot of time with me. Dad is a good man who has a good heart.

During my Girl Scout days, Dad took me to the Father-Daugher dances, getting all suited up for me, allowing me to buy a new outfit and get gussied up for him on our "date". I may look at those pictures and say, "Wow. I am really glad that Mom and Dad put me through braces!" or "What was I thinking with that hair/dress/whatever?" but I also see a dad who loved his daughter enough to put up with all the junk that having a daughter entails. (Not that I know personally, because I have all boys, but I do remember bits and pieces of my horribly selfish temper-tantrum days... Unfortunately.)

The day that I really realized that I had a special place in my dad's heart was when Xander was born. I will never forget the proud look on Dad's face. He held my son and looked at me, and at that moment, we weren't just father and daughter, we were both parents, and now I could see the respect we shared on a totally different level. That hasn't changed with the years that have flown by, the marriage and additional children that I call mine. Mom and Dad both accepted it all with open arms and open hearts. In fact, I think we are continually growing closer and closer together, so much so, that when either one of them is feeling under the weather, I take it considerably harder than I should.

I usually followed Mom a lot more than Dad, like I said, he was working most of the time. My grandpa Jack, Dad's dad, had his own business and Dad worked there with him. When Grandpa got old enough or sick enough, I'm not really sure, Dad started taking over more and more. That meant longer hours, working from 6 a.m. to 8 p.m. some nights, more business trips, which consequently meant less time at home. I really don't know the details, I was too young to understand that people got sick and died... I like to live in my own little bubble sometimes and that bubble did not have a definition for disease, death, or other completely distructive things.

But after all of that, after having Xander and watching Dad play with him, connect with him, take care of him, expecting a wave of jealousy, I actually got a new feeling of, Wow, I am totally a Daddy's girl! I never knew it before. Sure, I always wanted Dad around. I wanted attention from him just like Zack and Trent did. But I was the only girl, so maybe I really did want it more... I don't know.

All I know now is that I love both of my parents so much and I cannot handle anything happening to them. Which brings me to today. My dad calls me around ten this morning. Yes, I admit, I was asleep. I have not been feeling well, and well, I like to sleep, so they both go hand in hand.

Anyway. Dad calls to ask me if I will come pick him up from work. Now. That is a rare and strange request for my dad to make. For one thing, Dad usually works through the pain. No matter what it is, he is there to do his job and he does it, minimal complaining, total focus on the job. Secondly, why didn't he call Mom who was off today? Third, please refer to my first point. I start to get really worried, because, as I pointed out, this just doesn't happen! He tells me to take my time, but he needs a ride home. I think it took me a half an hour to get there. Dad's friend and co-worker, Clif, is waiting for me in the parking lot. Now I know it is bad. My first thought is. "Oh, no. I am too late. They had to take him to the hospital!" Clif tells me that Dad's back started bothering him this morning and it is getting progressively worse. Okay. My heart starts to slow down a little. It is not a stroke or heart attack. Breathe in, breathe out. I can handle this. Clif then tells me to go to another door and they will bring him out.

I drive to Door 20 and park my car. I go inside and walk over to the Manufactoring Office, where I can see Dad, Clif, and a few other people through the clear polycarb windows. Dad is sitting in a chair, these folks are hovering over him, and even though I know it isn't a life or death emergency, I have this panic inside me. This is my dad! The man who practically walks on water! (Okay, Jesus did that, but you get my point.) This man has been around my whole life, and sometime, not today, but someday, he going to be taken away from me. To a better place where there isn't pain or sickness, this I am very much aware, but that doesn't reassure the selfish little girl inside me!

We all walk Dad to my car and get him settled in. He looks... Older. Pale. Pained. Strained. Weak. These are not things that typically describe my dad. Where did the strong, flush-faced, healthy dad of mine go?

"My Father in Heaven," I pray within myself, "this is my Daddy I have beside me. I know that one day, he won't be here with me anymore. He will be with You in a much better place, but for today, can You grant him the peace and comfort he needs? Can you bless him with healing? I know I am a selfish girl, but I need my Daddy! I can't lose him yet! Please, Lord, please."

We talk about how he feels, the pain med that another guy gave him, how that made him feel and almost pass out... I drive him home, hang around for a while to get him settled in, and I leave so he can take a nap, see how he feels later.

"I love you, Dad," I say as I hug him. "Take it easy. Please call me if you need me."

As I am leaving his house, I offer another prayer. "Lord, please. Watch over him. He needs You. Thank You for being there for him. I love You. Amen."

This is not a dramatic Mollie telling this story for attention. This is a sad Mollie who loves her dad so much that she will tell the whole world! I am so scared to lose him. Mom, too. They work so hard, deal with so much. I am so thankful for them. I wish I could do more for them, ease the burden, bring them more joy, more time...

The tears running down my cheeks are not the first, nor will they be the last, but they are a little river of sadness, of nostalgia, of "what if".

Fun Foto Friday!

Zack and Laura got us this limo for our wedding present. It was so awesome!! Thanks!!!

My favorite picture of my new husband. Reminds me of James Bond!

Paul, me, Mom and Dad (Bonnie and Dennis)

The whole bridal party: Laura, Juls, Missy, me, Paul, John, Nathan, Kirby

What Started it All

Welcome to my blog. Welcome to my madness.

I am almost 27, married with 3 boys (one biological, two step), have a cat and a fish, and I am addicted to Pepsi, chocolate, affirmations and attention.

Paul and I met while working at 80/20 Inc. I was a piddley little Order Entry girl and he the brilliant computer techie. Love at first-sight?? Not quite, but close. I was in a hard place with my bio son's father, Nick. He was still living with me at the time, even though life was quite rough with him there. He would have people at the house at all hours of the day and night, while I was trying to get some shut-eye and make sure that our little toddler was too. Nick is a good guy, I will say that right here and now, up front, but he and I were not good together. We make better parents apart from each other.

So, my story continues. Paul and I were talking at work, occasionally seeing each other in the lunch room, sometimes he would bring me back a treat from his lunch hour. A blizzard from the Dairy Queen, a sandwich from wherever he ate, that sort of thing. He would make me little paper flowers. Leave cards under my keyboard or in my desk drawer. Send me emails to brighten up my day. I have to admit it: This kind of attention really drew me to him. All I have ever really wanted was someone who would go out of his way to show me that he cared. I was in the presence of "the greatest man ever!" at least in my opinion. We went out for his birthday and as they say, the rest was history. We were married on 07/07/07, along with some 30,000 other folks across the globe. We honeymooned in Las Vegas.

The attention he once showered with me has slowed to a rare drizzle. I must be honest in saying that I am most disturbed by this. He got the "greatest man ever" award and very rapidly, he worked his way down to bonehead. I am a good woman. I take care of him, his boys and mine, this house that I despise, etc etc etc. Our communication is shoddy at best. Our sex-life? Oh, don't get me started on that! (Non-existent.) The kids? Whew. Now that is the real reason for this blog. I am at my wits-end with these boys. How I long for a girl! (If it weren't for the vasectomy he had prior to meeting me, we probably could've taken care of that by now, even with the rare bed-time activity.) Little pink frilly dresses. Pony-tails. "Ruffle-butt" panties and tights. Sigh... I have to rely on my nieces, god-daughters, and my friends' babies. Sigh...

More to come; this is just my introductory blog.