The love of men

I miss my daddy.  Here I am, 50 years old, and I still call him daddy.  That is because when I was 13, he married my mom, and I had so longed to call the man daddy.  My biological father was in the picture at the time, but he was an alcoholic, and "away" living his own life, so if he didn't have time for me, I didn't have time for him.  Plus, this man that was marrying my mom I had known all my life.  He had been the best man in my mother and father's wedding, had grown up with my father, but he had been more of a daddy to me when I really needed one.
I remember going out on the boat when I was around 15-16 years old, just him and me.  He taught me how to navigate the boat out on the lake and drive it through wakes of other boats, and navigate through the shallow coves of Belews Creek (now called Belews Lake).  We would fish and he would talk and I would listen and I would talk and he would listen.  I don't even recall those conversations in detail, but I bet most of what I use in my life came from those words.  Like " If you lay down with dogs, you will end up with the fleas."  That was to tell me not who to 'lay down with', but to be careful of those I spend a great deal of time with.  "You are known by the company you keep."  That one too.
I made him cry when I found out I was pregnant right before I turned 18, with half of my senior year in high school to go.  He stood in the living room and said "We will be ok, you will be ok.  We will get through this. I love you."  Still makes me cry when I think of it.
.......
Ok, now that the crying jag is over, maybe I can continue writing.
When I met a man back in 1993, a man I shouldn't have even given the time of day to according to my parents, I ended up falling in love.  Won't go into the sordid details here, but let me just say, it was all a great disappointment to my father.  I thought he was being a prudish stick in the mud.  Well, he wasn't, and he was right, and boy oh boy was I wrong.  For over two years I stayed away from my mom and dad as much as possible, because I couldn't stand looking at them and their concern, love, and yes disappointment.  I was too self-righteous in my own life to be able to feel the guilt for long, so I kept away.  Then I found out about the cancer.  I was scared, and I knew by what the doctors were telling him, he didn't have a whole lot of time left.  Between the chemo and the ending results of dialysis, he was left weak, frail, and in no shape for confrontations or stress, so I stayed away then too.  Coming around once in awhile to kiss him, tell him I loved him, and hug him and my mom.  I was a lost person, adrift in a sea of confusion, chaos, drugs and alcohol.
I got to tell him goodbye that day, as I had been told that he would only live another 12-24 hours.  He was comatose at home, in the hospice bed in the living room.  He may have heard me, he may not have.  I left there and went to pick up a girl I worked with so we could over to my house and "party".  My spouse (won't call him a  husband, because he really didn't act like one) was there waiting for me with the  'goods' to party with.  Before I even got home, my mom called and told him my daddy had passed away.  I remember him telling me when I got home.  He then handed me a glass of Pepsi and a valium, and waited for me to take them so I could snort the coke on the tray.  I don't remember much after that.
I stayed pretty much in the gray for the next few days, and I have a dim memory of standing beside the grave with my daddy's coffin resting above it.  After we went into a portion of the church to have a few refreshments, while the funeral home lowered him into the ground and covered him up, I kept feeling like I wanted to just die with him.  We went back out and looked at the flowers.  That is all of that day I remember.
He and I have had several conversations since then.  He has forgiven me, he told me so.  He loves me, and he still watches over us.  My mom, and my sister, and me, and my grandchildren.  I so wish he could still be here on this level sometimes, especially like today, but I know there is no pain where he is, and he will never be sick again.  As long as he is where he is, and chooses to stay on that level to watch over us, I know he is ok.
I also lost my biological father back in 2004.  That story may come later.  I miss him too, although the loss doesn't hurt like it does with my daddy.
I want to go fishing with my daddy again.