Daddy

It’s Father’s Day again.

imageMy dad was the greatest storyteller ever. It’s taken me this long to realize I probably get that gift from him. I miss him. There was never a moment in my life, whether I saw him every day or once a year, that I felt unloved by my father.

My father, Anderson Carthel Covington, passed away in 2002. He was a lot of things to many people. He was more than just my Daddy, he was the one person who “got me” from top to bottom. He always talked to me as a person, even when I was a little kid. He never sugar coated stuff and he wasn’t ever mean. And he loved his girls, all 4 of us.

Was he perfect? No.

Was he always there? No.

He had his own demons to fight. He used drugs, he went to jail, he had flaws as we all do. But he was a good man. He had a smile for just about everyone and he was loved so much.

Whenever I go to Orange, the small town in Virginia where my family is from, at some point some vaguely familiar person will walk up to me and say, “You’re Carthel’s daughter aren’t you? Which one are you?” And there’s always a smile and a story and an “I remember when…” That’s something. That’s a memory. That’s love. That’s my Daddy.

Happy Father’s Day to the men who inspire their kids to unimaginable heights by the simplicity of their presence and who make sure their babies know they are loved beyond measure every single day of their lives!

The biting of the dust and such.

imageDear New Dude,

Sooooo. Hey, hey how are you doing? I haven’t heard from you on any regular basis since our first date about 3 weeks ago. Haven’t seen you either though we’ve made plans a couple times.

You seemed nice enough. Funny, engaging, we seemed to have quite a bit in common. We shared dating horror stories. You made a point to ask me if I was an honest person, because you’d had a situation where someone deceived you and we talked about that. You said you were eager to get to know me better. We people watched, had some drinks and laughed a lot. We spent the better part of an afternoon and evening hanging out, even ended with a good night kiss and a plan to go see X-Men at the theater “next time.” I had a good time.

Since that Saturday night, we’ve spoken by phone a handful of times. It was during one of these conversations that you decided to explain your “living situation” to me. UNSOLICITED. You said that you were looking for an apartment because the house you were living in was in foreclosure. And that you had moved in “with a friend to help her out.” Well aren’t you a kind and benevolent soul? But now, “the friend” had not held up her end and you have to move, plus your hours at work have recently changed from days to nights and it’s wreaking havoc on your free time, not to mention your resources. You insist that you are sharing all this information with me because you want to be “honest.” I am baffled at this confession, but I listen and tell you I understand how money can be tight and sure we can go to the movies once you get paid.

About a week went by before you called again, this time to tell me that you saw some pics of me on Facebook that a friend of yours, who apparently knows of me, showed you. You tell me how pretty I am and that tomorrow you want to take me to breakfast. The next morning, I text you, no response.

Another week has gone by. I don’t assume anything. But at this point it’s pretty clear that we had a good time but you’re really not interested. So I shoot you a text, “I’m removing your number from my phone. Just letting you know.” I wait. And 17 minutes later, my phone rings.

I say, “Hello.”
“I got your text.”
I say, “I figured you did when I saw your name pop up.”
“What are you doing?”
I say, “Nothing.”
“Well I was trying to work things out with a previous girlfriend, that’s why you haven’t heard from me.”
I say, “What?”
“Yeah we’ve been kinda off and on but it isn’t working out. You know how it is.”
I say, “No. I don’t. I know you called yourself telling me the truth with all that foreclosure nonsense, you could’ve just said that then.”
“I know I didn’t tell you that part of it then, so that’s why I’m trying to be honest. Tell you the truth.”
I say, “After it didn’t work out? Yeah okay. No thank you.”
“Yeah, I know, so that’s why… Wait what did you say?”
I say, “So after it didn’t work out with the one you really wanted, you think you’re going to tell me that and I’ll be so overjoyed that you are being honest AT YOUR CONVENIENCE that I should still want to talk to you? As in get to know you? Is that what you thought? Seriously? No thank you.”
“Well I see you point, but…”
I say, “I am no one’s consolation prize. Good luck with that. I hope you figure it out sooner next time.”
End. Delete. Sigh.