Unforgettable

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I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about it…because it’s over, really really over, but at my wedding, my dad and I danced to “Unforgettable” by Nat King Cole.

I was unsure about my dress, my table linens and even my answer to THE question, however, I’ve always known my dance with my dad would be to “Unforgettable”

I’ve had a rocky relationship with my parents, from the moment I clumsily stepped my feisty, quick feet on the floor. I’m more like my mom, headstrong, assumingly always right, and completely outspoken, but inside, I wish I had my dad’s qualities.

Our parents, or at least my generation, all preach how easy we have it, how they trudged through snow, grew up so tough, but my dad honestly did. (Not the snow part, I’m from New Orleans, seriously now)  My grandmother, sweet tap dancing Christ love her, struggled to raise a boy and a girl after her husband left her with two young children. He was a rat bastard and I think for that reason alone, my dad has been a friggin warrior.

I thought growing up, that my dad was a kitten. It wasn’t until I started to test my rebellious roots, that I saw that he was a lion in sheep’s clothing <insert whatever cliché statement you prefer there>

My mom could react 99 ways to one problem, throwing plates, screaming until she was purple, slamming doors, taking off in her Lincoln, etc… it never phased me, she was just as volatile as I was…not sure why I’m speaking in past tense … she IS just as volatile as I am, and I found each outlandish reaction, gratifying. Don’t tell her. It wasn’t until my dad stepped in, and bucked.

Thats.when.I.knew.I.fucked.up.

I can remember, vividly, the first time I was in trouble. Lots of trouble.
I could go into detail, but my therapist advises against it. Keyword: unforgettable.

He taught me the things I needed to know to survive, patience, a sharp tongue, wit and humbleness ←Not an actual word, but he did.
I can throw a ball like a champ, negotiate like it’s my middle name (wouldn’t be so odd in the time of “Moxie Crimefighter and Pilot Inspektor), size up a person’s character in three seconds flat…and I owe it all to him.

The story that I’ve always heard from my mom, was that I was put in dancing school because she made a promise to someone when she adopted me, that I would be a dancer. I never learned who that person was, I may never learn, but… the night of my wedding, when I stepped on my dad’s feet like I was 6 again, and danced to “Unforgettable” with him, I knew why she made that promise.
So as I sit on my porch, thousands of miles away, listening to “Unforgettable”, I thank whoever is up there, that the two people who scooped me up, signed the receipt, and called me “daughter” did what they did.

Unforgettable in every way.

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