Thanks Dad for Being There - 1

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idwell

Thanks Dad for Being There

By JessieC


Daughter finds the secret side of her dad,
whom she thought to be an 'Average Joe...'
Her interest to play the guitar and form a girl band begins the unfolding of her dad's past.
Joe had been an excellent guitar player, but there was more...
Jenn's make-up kit had fallen out of her purse, while in dad's car...


I appreciated my dad as I was growing up, but I was a teenager before I discovered how beautiful he was. My Dad was a neat dad when I was younger, but then he shut down, it was like parts of him became so quiet and more distant that I lost part of him. I was the oldest of his children and when Mom would say how neat Dad was, I thought most of it must have been when he was younger, pre-kids. But despite those things, I usually thought like most kids I had the best dad there is. He was always there for us when we were growing up. And while not everything was easy he was always willing to try his best for us. Mom was the one who was naturally good at most things she did. I don’t mean to be mean but I was thankful I was a girl as mom was an easier role model to follow.

I was 10 when I first started to see my Dad as a diamond in the rough, an unwashed gem. It was his turn to read to my youngest sister and brother when I first recognized what I was missing. Our Dad had trouble reading and speaking at times. He stuttered as well as had trouble reaching for words as he was speaking. I think it stopped people from recognizing how smart he was.

That night when he was reading he put himself into the story and while there were times he had trouble this night as he spoke as two sisters and a mother his voice was smooth, filled with joy, caring, tears or fear as appropriate to the characters. From then on I made it a habit to take time and listen in when it was my Dad’s turn to read. After that when I watch Dad do things for us I began to see other differences I had missed before.

Often when there was a dad/daughter event my dad took part though others bragged how far their dad could hit a ball, be tough, jump high or how well they could sing, I felt bad because it wasn’t about my dad. He wasn’t the shortest or the weakest, but I felt bad like he didn’t usually measure up. Effort or being there was never a problem. He worked overtime especially when we as kids wanted something special. I learned later he was passed over for a promotion because he took too much time being there for us his kids, especially me.

My Mom, Karen, was an Emergency Room nurse. She was not only a very good looking woman she was a darn good nurse. People would come up to me and tell me how special she was and helped this person and helped save that person. She even had her Master’s degree in nursing that allowed her to do many things a doctor could.

When Cathy started school and Mom went back to work she worked from 11 pm to 7 am so she could be there for us. She had the next day’s clothes ready before she went to work. She usually slept while we were in school unless she needed to be there for us. I loved her because she had time to listen, and could show me things as a girl growing up. She was great at encouraging me to try what I want and did what she could to help make it possible.

When I was 12 and decided I wanted to play the guitar, I was surprised when Mom suggested I talk to Dad. She took me to a storage area and pulled out an acoustical guitar and suggested I asked my dad about it. I shared two concerns: I didn’t want to play old boring songs and that I had trouble relating to Dad at times. She reminded me of a time the past year when I painted my dad’s fingernails after he fell asleep in a chair. I smiled and laughed as Dad was really cool at that time. “That’s the Dad you will find if you just explore. You may think your dad is the average Joe, but if you get him playing the guitar again, you might discover the Joe I fell in love with. Your Dad, like many dads, has hidden part of his past thinking he’s doing us a favor.”

Dad’s name is Joe, and “Average Joe” was a term I heard about my dad before, but I knew he didn’t like it. I waited until after dinner and had snuck dad’s guitar and amplifier out to the family room.

“Hey Dad, come here! I want to show you something I found today.” Dad shared back that he just wanted to relax, but Mom gave him a push and shared he owed it to me to come and look. Mom had cleaned things up as much as she could and made sure it was working. The biggest problem in keeping him from discovering it was my two sisters and brother wanted to play with it. Joy and fear hit my dad’s face at the same time. Mom reminded him it was like riding a bicycle you don’t forget once you know how to do it. It seemed unnatural for a guitar strap to be around my dad’s shoulder, but he looked like he was very comfortable putting it on.

My sisters and brother came running as dad hit the first strings and took time to get it in tune. He said it needed work but I was quickly pleased. I knew the first few tunes he played were old songs, but the music was alive. I asked him if he could play any of today’s music. He asked how old I was? When I said ‘twelve’ he said the newest tune he played was thirteen years ago.

I used my iPod to play a few songs and he was able to play two in two tries and a third song took him three tries. On the next time with each song, he was getting creative and it blew my mind. On two songs my dad asked me to start singing the song and he came in after me. We would stop an hour into playing but Dad was already coaxing me to bring the songs alive with my voice. Dad’s fingertips were not used to playing that much, which is why we stopped, but the conversation continued another hour and a half.

Dad had been part of a band both in high school and in college and early in their marriage. But he said he gave it up once they knew I was coming along. I guess Mom had a miscarriage before me, and dad felt more responsible to be around after Mom became pregnant with me. Mom shared Dad had played a song at my baptism, but someone suggested that was not very ‘dad like’ and he hadn’t played since.

Dad asked about my interest in the guitar. When I told him I was interested in playing the guitar and even in being in a girl band, he brightened up. He said I needed to find a good teacher to learn to play correctly, to read notes and learn chords. He would help me as much as he could if. He asked if I was serious about having fun with it. I already played drums in the high school band and sang in the chorus so I was surprised when he asked about me being serious. I questioned if he was joking or just challenging me. Dad said something I will always remember. “I have seen and heard you in the band and the chorus, but it often didn’t look like you were always having fun. If you are going to play the guitar you should either enjoy doing so or hang it up.”

It was then I realized how happy my Dad had quickly become in playing the guitar again.

I asked dad, “Did any of the bands start using makeup and outfits when you were playing or was that later?” Dad shared not many of the local or regional groups were into that when he was playing.

Mom’s cough let me know to pursue that further. So I asked, “How about you and the bands you played in?” Dad’s look to Mom could have killed another person but Mom just smiled and left saying she had to get ready for work.

Luckily Mom had sent the younger two to bed and my other sister to the shower or I might not have heard my dad’s next confession. He usually wore a woman’s satin or silk blouse up till the time her parents came to a performance. He and mom had an agreement that he wouldn’t wear blouses or make-up when her parents came to see his band.

“I am surprised, Mom was such a prude.” He confessed Mom liked him like that and it was he who was shy around his parents. Picturing Grandpa Roberts, I had no problem imagining his worry. Grandma, I thought could enjoy it if she wouldn’t worry about her husband either. Finally, I asked, “Is that why you weren’t upset when I painted your fingernails?” His face became uncomfortable, and then he said he needed to go to the bathroom.

I did the remaining reading for tomorrow at school and had gone on to the computer and my cell to visit before going to bed. I caught Mom on her way out and asked how Dad was doing. She smiled and shared he had a very good time. When I asked about the painted fingernails, she changed the subject and shared I should talk to Dad about looking at guitars after he gets off of work. I got the message that I had asked enough, for some reason that little thing was very sensitive.

It was a cheerful morning as I did ask and received confirmation about looking at guitars that evening. School today was an average day and I went over Rhonda’s after school. Rhonda was my best friend and she shared my interest in starting a band. Like me, she already played the drums and was interested to stay behind the drums. We were brainstorming who else might be good and it was helpful to have Mrs. Griggs’ input. Rhonda’s mom suggested we not go with a senior girl as she would be distracted with graduating and then likely gone. Instead, she encouraged us to get good and to realize it would probably take us half a year to get a band together. Longer to get enough experience and songs to be worth other people’s interest, so much for instant success.

I got home half an hour before my dad. Mom reminded me of a chore to get done and about my homework. My Dad had done his research and there were two music shops that were must stop. Dad had his guitar and amplifier unloaded from the car at the first store before I knew it. Dad left me with the salesman and took his stuff over to the service department. He wanted both the guitar and amplifier cleaned up, serviced and the wires changed.

The salesman and I had been visiting a good forty minutes and asked me what I thought. The salesman had pointed out three we might be interested in. Dad quickly kicked out the cheapest guitar and asked what I liked about the other two. Dad was a little upset I had not tried either one yet. He wasn’t angry with me but rather the salesman. The salesman shared he had included the cheaper guitar because he did not know how serious I was or how much my dad, was willing to invest.

“I am sorry that in forty minutes you did not take my daughter seriously, but it’s hard to be serious if they are not hooked up and playable.” My Dad shared we wanted to try both but asked if he had the one model in a better size for me. Dad asked me to try on the one he wanted to be replaced and it quickly became obvious it was a bit bulky for me. I apologized, but Dad shared he only knew it because it was more bulk than he would want. They did have a smaller more streamlined model of the same basic guitar. It was now 7:20 and they would be closing at 8. Dad had me try both guitars and gave me a quick lesson of four chords to try on each.

Dad, not the salesman helped to adjust the strap. We tried the first guitar and it felt and sounded really. Dad had me try the second guitar on a different amplifier. I liked the looks and feel of the first guitar, but the second guitar sounded noticeably better. Dad got my opinions and suggested I try the first guitar in the second amplifier. I was surprised by how much better it sounded with the second amplifier.

Dad played both guitars and it was now five minutes before 8 and dad asked the price of the guitar I liked and the second amplifier. The salesman started to figure things out. Dad suggested he get the manager and they quickly give us a price. While the guy went to get the manager Dad asked if I really liked what he was asking a price for. I shared “Yes but aren’t we going to the other store before we buy.” Dad said, “Yes unless the price was right.”

The salesman threw out, “The ballpark price on that set would be $995 plus tax and fees.” Dad said, “That’s too high, I want to know tax, fees, the guitar, wire cords, amplifier and case what is the price for us to take it out tonight.” They suggested $875 while Dad suggested $775. They came back with $825 as their lowest and Dad shared, “My highest is $790.00 before he walked out the door. We will be at Reedman’s tomorrow and should be able to get what we want. The manager said he would compromise at $800. Dad took my arm and we headed for the door.

The manager said okay we will sell it at $775 but we will need to add the tax. Dad said if that is $790.00 we have a deal. I felt bad as the dickering caused dad’s speech problems to rise. Dad shared he was happy to settle as he believed they were the better service people, but that the guitars would have been relatively the same. Dad threw a wireless head/microphone set up on the counter and asked for the proper battery to go with it.

I gave dad a big hug and kiss and he returned the same, suggesting I call Mom and tell her what we did, but to tell her we spent $1,400 and that did not include the work on his guitar. The manager told me I had quite the Mom and Dad. “Jennifer is quite the young woman and as her parents, it is us who are quite proud to have her.” Dad gave me a hug and kiss as Mom answered the phone.

“Dad wanted me to let you know we were able to get what we wanted and it only cost $1,400.” But as I spotted a tear in Dad’s eyes my voice broke and gave the exaggeration away. Mom shared she was happy for me, but if it cost more than $1,100 my dad could drive directly to the emergency room and save on the ambulance. I passed on her reply and we all laughed. Dad shared he was taking me for a bite to eat unless she had something that would not hold over until tomorrow.

With the guitar in case and Dad carrying the amplifier, we headed for the car and I thanked the people for staying open to make the sale. On our way to the restaurant, I thanked Dad for all he did and apologized for the strain it put upon him. He knew I meant I could hear it in his speech.

Dad said he felt worse for me as he couldn’t really hear it. “I wish my speech was better so I didn’t embarrass my family, but as far as I am concerned it doesn’t hurt me, and you are worth it.” Dad saw me look at my phone and he suggested I call whomever while we were riding in the car, but as we were eating he wanted me to wait until I got home to text others. I called Rhonda and Jeff and told both about what we bought and that I would text them later. Dad shared he was impressed that I could say what I did about the guitar and amp.

During our meal, we had a great talk. I shared how impressed I was with the way Dad handled everything. I thought the salesman was quickly overwhelmed and that Dad was a bit rough on him. Dad agreed but he shared I made two good choices and if we were going to get enough information and possible sale he needed to do what he did. “I was upset he treated you as a little girl who needed to wait for her daddy to think. Your mother is a sharp woman and I get frustrated any time someone treats her or her girls with less respect than I think they should.

We ate our meal and dad had one drink to celebrate the evening. I sat back and noticed as we visited on how handsome my dad was. He had fine features and while he was not big and muscular, I saw the joy and the beautiful guy that I thought my Mom probably saw in him. I touched his hand across the table and he did not draw away. When did that wall or distance between us vanish? I was not sure, but I prayed what we now had would stay.

“Dad, do you know how well you speak when you are reading to Cathy and Dan? I have taken to sitting outside the room and listening to you. There are neat things that I have been discovering about you. I am sure they have always been there but for some reason, I am growing up and noticing them.”

Dad asked me not to get too nice or I would cause him to cry. I began to tear up and said, “That is not fair; a girl should not be robbed from being able to see the love of a Dad in his tears.” Dad said it had to do with a man being strong.

“That is stupid, seemingly any man can hold back his emotions, I would think it takes a strong man to show his feelings. I am not expecting you to cry in public or at home. I understand the dumb image thing. I just don’t think it is fair to children.” I shared I was glad to see him happy and excited we would have a chance to be doing some things together.

Dad shared we were at the point I would soon be embarrassed to have my parents around. “You’re right in many areas I am wanting my space and privacy to be with my friends. But I hope I don’t get too big to come over and hug you and receive your praise before I get lost with my friends.”

“You know when I see you smile, I see the resemblance Grandma says I have with you. You are a neat looking man, tender yet strong and when you’re happy I very much want to be like you.”

We got home in time to share what we got and to visit with Mom before she went to work. Mom and Dad said everything was okay, but I could see in the short time they had to themselves Dad had cried about something. But we had a good time before and after Mom left for work.

I finished up my homework, visited with friends especially Rhonda and Jeff and then got ready for bed. It was late and Mom would have been to work at least a half-hour. I passed their bedroom and heard dad crying. I went back to my room and called Mom to see what had happened that they weren’t telling us.

I suspected it was one of our grandparents but had not known any of them were sick. Mom shared, “Your evening with Dad had gone so well and you said things that deeply touched your Dad’s heart. You cracked that stronghold of him being a dad. He is a lot more sensitive than he lets on and the past two days you have joyfully cracked his comfort zone. His image of what a dad and man should be don’t match up that well with who he is. Don’t worry; you have made your dad very happy.”

Its morning as I am getting ready for school and dad for work; his façade is back in place but it is thinner now as some joy comes shining through. Dad was happier, I was tickled out of my mind to have a guitar beyond my imagining, yet there was something more. Thanks, God for bring us this far, help me to be content for today. Dad shared he was told of three guitar teachers and we could discuss that tonight.

Cathy and Dan asked Dad when Mom and he were giving them attention as Halloween was coming. Dan said Dad should be Elvis, Cathy said Hanna Montana, and Megan said that it would be cute to see dad as any woman. Once again that smile and concern flashed over Dad’s face at the same time. No one else paused or sought to take note of it but it caused me to think.

“Why is Dad seemingly stressed about him being a beautiful man to show through for others to see?” He’s not vain about needing to be seen as macho. We were going out the door for school as Mom was coming in from work, and Dan jumped Mom about looking for costumes. And Cathy spoke up, “Mom if Dad wanted to be Hannah Montana or a Princess instead of Elvis he could, couldn’t he?”

Mom was taken back and luckily Dad had already gone to the car. “Was that your idea young lady or dad’s?” “Well you could be a doctor or a nurse, why couldn’t dad be a Queen of music and not a King?” Mom chuckled and said that was a cute and liberating thought. She gave the younger two a kiss and hug and a pat on their way out.

Cathy giggled and agreed, “I think that would be very cute to see, I would hope Mom you would get to pick out what he wore.” I hugged mom and kiss, our eyes met and each was wondering the thoughts of the other.

“A penny for your thoughts Jennifer,” said Mom. I quickly pictured of Dad as a woman, disturbingly I like the image “I will take the fifth on that.”

The younger two were noisy on the way to school, but Kate and I were unusually quiet as was my dad. I leaned over and gave my dad a kiss and smile as I said good-bye. I grabbed my purse and went my way. Unbeknown to me my makeup bag fell on the seat.

It wasn’t a big problem as I had an extra mascara and lipstick in my purse and more make-up in my locker and school bag. I just laughed and hoped dad didn’t worry about me. Come, the end of the school, I found that Dad had left me a short text just saying thanks and he would see me at 4:30.

When I got home from school I was surprised to see Dad was already there. Mom gave me a hug and shared I continued to amaze her and I could only shake my head in amazement. “I have received a new guitar and amplifier, discovered my Dad was a cool guitar man and somehow I am amazing you.”

“You're leaving your makeup bag was genius; it was like a key that opened a long-locked door. Dad has just gotten home from work but he didn’t want to come in until you were here first.” There was a light knock on the door and with a soft voice, dad asked if we were ready for him to come in.

I turned and looked expecting him to come carrying in something, but I had no idea what. His briefcase looked more like a black purse slung over his shoulder, but apart from that, he brought nothing. I looked and saw his smile and while there was a glow the difference didn’t hit me at first. Then my mouth dropped open and my eyes widened in disbelief.

This cannot be my dad. “Dad, you used my make-up.” His lips were lightly done and the color wasn’t very different from this own, but they glimmered. His eyes had a hint of color and I could tell he used mascara. His face was soft, as his complexion was even. “Dad you are pretty.”

He smiled and softly asked, “You are not surprised or offended?”

“Surprised very much, but seeing your glow and smile, I am not at all offended.” A puzzled look came on Dad’s face. “But you left your makeup case and all the clues and encouragement. I was upset you found my old pictures before I could explain, but I felt embarrassed and ashamed and was sure you would think me weird and find my offensive.”

Mom had shared my thoughts with him and he thought I was the one who found the old pictures of him and got my sisters to set him up about dressing up like a woman. I had not known of the pictures, nor had I been part of what my sisters said.

“So do you mean you did this for me or because you liked to?”

“I thought both and that it was time to let you know.”

Karen, “Jenn, part of why I fell in love with your dad was not only his being handsome, but that he was beautiful inside and out. I grew up with only your uncles as my brothers and your dad was not only my love and best friend he was like having a sister and girlfriend as well.

Once after one of the times, your dad’s group played for a dance I took him back to my apartment. When I found out neither of my housemates would be back, I dressed and made up my boyfriend as a woman. The next night she looked so good I took her on a date. For three years we would fight as well as be in and out of love. Your dad’s ears had already been pierced for the band but whether we dated as a guy and gal or two women his good looks and sensitivity worked.” “…All these years since I was pregnant with you, She has been suppressed, only together with me did she ever see the light of day.”

“So when you found my makeup you thought I was encouraging that beautiful guy to show himself! So you waited till the end of work, made yourself up and came home to show me. How were you so patient all these years and then again today?”

“I was afraid and over time became more afraid and ashamed and then you found my guitar and encouraged that happy person inside to come out. When I got to work I discovered your make-up kit and put on some mascara and lipstick on before I went inside. I knew the color was the same as my lips and I mascara was only lightly done. It was lunchtime when one of the office women confronted me.”

“I thought I had done a good job concealing it and I would have if my smile had not made her look closer. They, at the end of lunch, added a tint to my eyes and lightly used a concealer and your makeup to give my face a smooth complexion. Maggie came at the break and did my fingers. “

“It was a little before 4 when they sent me home. They said you deserved to see your beautiful dad. I was afraid, but they said you deserved to see me that I owed it to you and me.” Dad was about to cry when I stepped up and gave him a hug and told him I was pleased to see my beautiful dad.

I turned to Mom and asked if she had anything her Sis could change into. She smiled and shook her head yes but Dad tried to say no. “Please, I see the beautiful man. What’s your name? Please love me enough to trust me.” Mom took Dad by the hand and went walking off to their room. He passed by my sisters and brother, said hi but I don’t think they saw the difference.

It was close to an hour before I saw them again and Dad was a woman head to toe. His face was made up for the evening, looped earrings, a gold chain necklace, a white satin blouse with slip and bra underneath, the skirt was a golden tan for a dressy night out. Mom had ordered pizza and arranged for Bridgette next door to sit my sisters and brothers as we went out to eat. Mom introduced me to her girlfriend Jasmine and handed her a sweater as we went out to eat.

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Comments

dont stop there!

what happens next?

DogSig.png

Story attached as file

erin's picture

I've edited the post to make it more visible that there is a file attached.

Hugs,
Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

good first chapter

from a perspective not often used.
good job, thanks

Wow...

Cool sto... I mean cool synopsis, Bra! So where's the rest of it?

If you don't stand for something you'll fall for anything.

Thanks Dad

Ok, a Good Start are we going to see more?? Richard

Richard

read the attachment

It's really good stuff. I hope the format doesn't scare too many people off, though.

DogSig.png

Thanks Dorothy

It took a while but with Eric and Erin being patient I now have it posted in the regular format. I especially thank you for your encouragement.

JessieC

Jessica E. Connors

Jessica Connors

Good Job

It was a good story.

Barb Allan

Great story, it really moved

Great story, it really moved me. I could feel the love the family had for each other. I loved how Dad was supported by his wife and daughter.

Dad Like?

I love guitar. I had a friend who liked to strum in college, I could listen for hours. I have very little talent in that direction I'm afraid, but respect those who do.

Whoever suggested playing guitar wasn't Dad like needs to get over themselves. Making music is neither male nor female, but shows something special about your soul. It is a way of showing love, and making happiness. In many ways it is sad his daughter had to be so old to meet her Dad's other side.

I never did see his daughters name, I am either missing it, or it isn't there. Either way, keep on writing, it is a good story.

Dad like? Thanks for your comments

Thanks for the comments.

The oldest daughter is Jenn (Jennifer), the Megan, Dan and Cathy

Dad is Joe but soon to be known by his feminine name as well

Mom/wife is Karen
Hope this is helpful to some

JessieC

Jessica E. Connors

Jessica Connors

I wish my family had loved me.

Wow, this really kicks my ass! Beautifully written and the sensitivity is astonishing. How many of us wish that they could have a home like this?

If our families dared to love and accept.

I believe that Jenn, Karen and others benefit as well, so would our families.
Your comments are very precious, especially coming from one with your walk.

Sounds like many have hungered for a long time; to be loved back doesn't seem too much to ask.

Hugs,
JessieC

Jessica E. Connors

Jessica Connors

Thanks Dad for Being There -1

He is a wonderful Dad

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

unusual point of view

Yeah! Thank you for providing a story with a different point of view!

Amy

Marvelous! Simply marvelous!

Ole Ulfson's picture

What a wonderful first entry. You've done yourself proud.

Thank you for this gift,

Ole

We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!

Gender rights are the new civil rights!

Sorry to be pedantic

Being unable to write and create as you have, it is churlish of me, I know, to point out certain word usage that must be particular to your part of the world and stops me in my tracks each time I read it. There are two words in particular that I have never heard used in the context that you use them.
To "share" as far as I am aware is to divide between two or more, or to make a donation to someone less privilleged. You seem to convey the impression that a conversation is taking place, but without the suggestion that a sacrifice is being made in passing on the information, or that someone is being confided in.

A "visit" where I come from is a trip to meet someone or to travel to some place, but usually a shift from one location to another is involved. I have never known the portrayal of a conversation with one's own mother in one's own home as a "visit."

Apologies for my pedantry, and those points apart, well done on a story that has taken the trouble to look at TG issues from a completely new and unique perspective.

Karen.

New usage and old

erin's picture

The use of "share" in this story seems to be a New Age thing, I've heard it frequently in California in recent years. On the other hand, "visit" as used here is quite an old usage, I can hear older relatives of mine saying such things or at least similar ones.

"To share" in this sense simply means "to say" and "to visit" means "to converse". Both are rather meta-usages but clear enough. And I don't think it's quite "pedantic" to point out that one hasn't necessarily heard them often enough for them to be considered standard. :)

Of such things is an author's personal voice made.

Hugs,
Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

Excellent first chapter.

Great start looking forward to reading more. I could feel the love this family has for each other come out as the story goes on.


I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair

its a great post for dad for

its a great post for dad for thanking him for always there in time of difficulty when i need courage you give me courage and confidence to bring my moral up i think its happen with all and i really feel this post very real for me fathers days wishes