In Search of Daddy's Arms

PROLUGUE

 As little girls we have an innate desire to be loved and accepted by our fathers. How could the lack of that love affect our future relationships with the opposite sex? Let's take a journey into the life of a woman who is not afraid to bear all before the world and share the hurt, pain, love, loss and gain she's encountered over the years while in search of "Daddy's Arms.” Through years of heart break and relentless searching she finally found the love, security and safety she’d long sought in the arms of another… that girl was me.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Phase 1                           My Heart Belongs to Daddy         

Phase 2                           Daddy’s Gone

Phase 3                           The Journey Begins

Phase 4                           Innocence Lost

Phase 5                           He’s the One For Me

Phase 6                           Destined to Be or Not

Phase 7                           Here I Go Again

Phase 8                           Any Takers… Here I am

Phase 9                           I Can’t do this Anymore

Phase 10                         Okay Lord, I’m Ready

Phase 11                         The Search is Over… Safe in Daddy’s   Arms at Last

Phase 12                         The Healing Begins

POEM to Daddy               In Search of Daddy's Arms

 MY HEART BELONGS TO DADDY

“Ms. Mary Mat, Mat, Mat, all dressed in black, black, black, with silver buttons, buttons, buttons, all down her back, back back! Those were the good ole days! Playing gleefully with other children without a care in the world! Drinking kool-aid and hanging outside all day long with friends who lived in the same neighborhood. I will never forget those fond memories as a little girl.

Both momma and daddy were living together along with me and my three other siblings, we were family and nothing would change that! Or so I thought… back in the day children were children and adults did not really discuss their personal problems in their presence. Grown folks business was for grownups and not kids so to speak, which was the way it should be. Unfortunately when it came to domestic matters it was difficult to ignore daddy hitting momma, cursing her out, throwing dishes or locking us out of the house as he was in a drunken rage. At an early age I came to realize that alcohol does not have any bounds when consumed in excess amounts and that was just the way it was. Momma would try her best to get the situation under control by reasoning with daddy and asking him to think about us, his children, but to no avail. The alcohol was talking louder than momma and daddy’s own reasoning for that matter!

For some reason no matter what daddy did I never was afraid of him, I felt that he would not harm me or my siblings. Deep down in my heart he was a good man and loved momma and us, but just needed to stop drinking. The days following his drunken episodes would be proof of this truth. Daddy was calm and quiet and seemed to be somewhat ashamed or embarrassed about how he’d acted in the previous days. He would play around with us kids a little bit here and there and try to go about business as usual. Mom never threw anything up in his face about the previous episodes, at least not in the presence of us kids. I know she really wanted things to work out because I would often hear her praying for daddy and the family. I’m not sure if daddy even remembered everything he’d done while drunk, but I know he was aware that it was not good. He was a hard working man and would go to work faithfully through the week and return home in order to prepare for the following days work.