Wednesday, July 19, 2006

My Memory is Long..

July 16, 1998 my biological father, Stanley Glover died of a fatal heart attack. I am the youngest of the five children he had with my mother. They seperated when she was pregnant with me. It was a very traumatic time for my brothers and sisters and I when he died, and there was emotional damage done that may never fully heal. Another shining example of the dysfunctional family I come from, but that is another story I may never tell.. anyway..
There are many parallels between Kierra's relationships with her "Father" and her "Dad" just as there were with mine. The first memory I have of Stanley I may have been about 3 years old. I think it stands out because it was traumatic for me. I have a couple pictures of me with him when I was younger, but the clearest memory I have is of him picking me up and accidentally burning my shoulder with his cigar. It was an anise cigar, with a strong licorice scent. I have never cared for black licorice. The only things I knew about him growing up were what I heard from my siblings and my mother, usually when they were mad at him, so most of it wasn't very good. So by the time I was a teenager I had a pretty monstrous image in my mind of who this man was. When I was 15 my oldest sister, Robyn, took me on a summer trip up to Massachusetts and we spent some time with him. I was scared to death! He taught me to go clamming on the 4th of July out on the point, and I ate my first steamed clam(yuck!). I wasn't cured of my fear, but it was lessened some what. After Brian & I got married and took a trip up north Robyn arranged for us to stay with Stanley. He was divorced and living with his dog Blackie. It was awkward at first, but after a few debates we managed to figure out who we were to each other. I wish I had more time to know him. I took the kids to visit alot when we lived in upstate New York. They knew him as the Grampa with the dump truck. He didn't have much of an education and could barely write or read. I sent alot of pictures and called on the phone when I couldn't get there to visit.
Kierra and I met Brian when she was 18 months old. She asked questions about having so many grandparents when she was about 7. I never lied to her, but I never offered any negative information about Rick. I hoped like Stanley, he would be a better person when he was older. I took Kierra to meet him when she was about 16. She saw him then, and once when he came to Florida to see her. They communicated for a while, but some things hadn't changed over the years and she could not accept the person he was at that time. I guess she never did accept him because in 2002 she legally changed her name to Shore. She would never get into the details and I respected that. Brian was her "Dad". Daddy. He has a framed "you are my father" poem Kierra gave him a few years ago. She adored him and he adored her. I was never jealous, but did envy the way they had with each other. I felt like the bad guy alot of the time when she & I butted heads.
It was like that with my mother too. My "Dad" was there for me as far back as I can remember. He still is a tower of strength for me. Although I couldn't lean on my Mom and cry on her shoulder when Kie died.. I fell into my Dad's arms and wept from my soul. It is a special bond. I think because he didn't have to love me, he chose to. Just like with Brian and Kie. She & I were very blessed to have such wonderful Dad's. I was also blessed to get to know my father and wish so many years had not been wasted. I will cherish what I had, as I do with Kie, and my memories will sustain me.. and my memory is long.. very, very long.

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