"Let me tell you a secret about a father's love...A secret that my daddy said was just between us.
Daddies don't just love their children every now and then, it's a love without end, Amen."
Believe it or not, I loved country music as a child. That doesn't fit me now, but it would've if you knew a 7 year old Hollee. The above lyrics come from a George Strait song that I loved as a kid. Even as a child, that song could bring me to tears, and now I believe that somewhere inside I always knew it would be difficult with my dad.
No matter what, I always said that no matter how different we were (or as some say, polar opposite in beliefs but two of a kind in stubbornness), that I got lucky. I had a father who always made sure I had everything I needed. He sacrificed for me and my mother when we needed it. He sold his beloved jeeps when I was 4 years old to put my mom through her nursing program. When I was 22 and got kicked out of my living arrangement and decided to buy a home on short notice, he sold his extra vehicle so that I didn't have to decide to sell my classic car for a down payment on my home. That is just the kind of man that my dad is.
But even with his good qualities, his bad ones can far outshine them.
My dad hasn't spoken to me since the day that I told my parents that I'm pregnant. His hateful words about me getting pregnant on purpose just to ruin HIS happiness and how Mr. Banker would leave us like black men do were hard enough. As the months have passed, those wounds have only gotten deeper as I realize that my son won't get to know his grandfather. And I can't help the tears that begin to stream down my face as I think of how I will explain to Xavier when he gets old enough to wonder why he doesn't know his grandfather.