this is my Daddy and these are my memories

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This is my Dad and here are two stories about my dad… who i love and miss very much.

I dont know how old I was, but I was a very curious child. one Saturday morning.. I decided that I had to know how the toaster worked

I was sitting at the table in the kitchen taking it apart with a knife when my dad walked in. “what are you up to Brown Eyes?” he asked refilling his coffee cup.
“I want to see how the toaster works.”
“ok… well, you have to put it back together before you mother gets home.”
and with sage advice, he UNPLUGGED the toaster from the outlet in the wall and left the kitchen.

the second story is way more dramatic

Never one to back down from a fight, let lone an argument I had gotten into a tussle with a older boy on the block.
this is back in a time when all the neighbors knew each other and all the kids played together. Roscoe was older and handsome and wouldnt let me hangout with him and the other older kids.
i was hotter than a 45 and madder than a wet hen.
I marched my little ass home and told my Daddy that I had been wronged, mistreated, there were tears and snot and gasps for air during this story.
“do you want me to have a word with young master Roscoe?” he asked
“no” I stated firmly “I want you to beat him up”
“well… BrownEyes, you understand that as an adult, that’s out of the question – but I will go and have a word with him.”

my father announced to my mother her was leaving the house and off he went.

about 30 minutes later he returned with both Roscoes, the father and the son.
Roscoe was made to apologize and I was made to accept his apology.
the bell rang as Roscoe’s mother showed up with a big pitcher of lemonade.

glasses were poured and Roscoe and I were instructed to play and the adults ‘doctored’ their ¬†lemonade and we all went to the backyard to enjoy the summer breeze

other neighbors showed up with assorted packages with bottles and cans and soon there were no chairs left.
I remember watermelon and lightning bugs and laughter all around

at some point the adults began to play Bid Whist and I feel asleep in my dad’s lap to be awaken by a Boston no trump bid… which he made..
imitating a train whistle – nest stop BOSTON!!!!!

There was much more to him as a person. He is the reason that I am a RaceWoman and womanist. that I am never without a book and still have a crush on Frederick Douglas.
and there was more to him as a man…
but Mostly – he was my Daddy and he was really good at it

Daddy, Me & Mommy
Daddy, Me & Mommy

Author: pdeedixon

Woman. Mother. Lawyer. Black. RaceWoman. Womanist. Feminist. LBGTQQPIA ally. divorced

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