This week, for Fun Monday, Karisma wants us to “take a trip down memory lane, and keep right on going, right back to your childhood. And I want to hear “THAT STORY”. You remember the one? Yes, you do! The one your parents, siblings, extended family or friends, would never let you forget, live down or get over!”
Hmmm…now why on earth would I want to tell one of the many stories that would embarrass me??? Let’s see…there’s the one about me eating dirt, (but that’s more about my parents not feeding me), the one about my artistic abilities with um…a very interesting media (but that’s not my fault either, one has to work with what one has) There’s the story of my foul mouth (but then again, my dad was a sailor…Hey! I know…
When I was about two or so, my dad, like many others in our Navy town went off to sea on a WestPac. (For you landlubbers, a WestPac is a tour of the Western Pacific waters that lasts for six to nine months.) It’s hard on the sailors at sea, and equally hard for those loved ones left at home.
In an effort to comfort me, and most likely to keep me from forgetting who my daddy was, my mom showed me a framed photo of my dad. I’m pretty sure it was this one. (I’m sure I will be corrected if I am mistaken)
It seem that in my young mind, the photo became my Daddy. I carted that picture around with me, hugging and kissing on it everywhere I went. I even nestled to sleep with my surrogate father. There was no way in the world I was going to forget my daddy…he was always with me.
Finally, the long awaited day came, the fleet was pulling into the home port. Mama and I were dressed to the nines waiting to greet our sailor home at long last. When Dad arrived and pulled us into his arms, I burst into tears. This big, hulking man with the scratchy face wasn’t my daddy! Mine was the one I carried around with me all the time!
This is me. It is cropped down from a set of pictures my mother had taken of the two of us. I can’t seem to locate the whole photo right now, so you don’t get to see my lovely mother.