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I Remember When Mick Stratton mstratton@hlkn.tamu.edu Daughter, be wary of forming a relationship with a man who treats his mother and sisters poorly. This is a letter that I wrote to my daughter during her first year in college. I include it to demonstrate what daughters mean to their fathers. This is about my daughter and me, but the love felt is very prevalent in this great country of ours. God bless all you fathers and your wonderful daughters! My Dearest Daughter, I remember the first time I saw you. Momma wanted you to be a natural birth, but there were complications and they had to perform a C section. I was there when it was done. I saw the doctor bring you out from Momma’s womb and after he cleared your breathing passage he handed you to me, mine the second hands to ever touch you, and I held you while they cut the cord and cleaned you up and then I handed you to dear, dear Momma. It was love at first sight, blood and all. Momma breast fed you but would put extra breast milk in a bottle so I would also be able to feed you, holding my precious baby in my arms. I remember when I was holding you when you were less than a year old and you kept hitting me in the face and I would say no, but you didn’t stop so I gave you a small slap to the face and said how do you like that? Your eyes got as big as saucers and you started to cry, looked at me, and buried your head in my chest. I was the one you always went to for protection; I guess even if it was from me. It’s a good thing the politically correct snobs weren’t there because they would have been horrified and tried to take you from me, which would have disastrous results for them. You never hit me again. I remember when we went to Dallas to see Momma’s relatives. You were around a year old and got sick in our brand new mini-van on the way up. You did it again on the way back, already causing problems. You were Daddy’s little girl and while we were in Dallas you would follow me everywhere I went. Every time Momma called you over to see a relative you would run to me. I felt sorry for Momma but you and she now have the closest of relationships, with you telling her things you would never tell me. This is probably a good thing considering how I am. Oh, and do I remember when you were two and we had never given you a doll, just stuffed animals. Momma and I walked into your room one evening and there you were holding your little stuffed bear Osito, with a pencil in his mouth. We asked you what you were doing and you said “I’m feeding Baby Osito with my bottle.” Boy, did we feel guilty so we bought you a cute little baby doll. You loved him so much and you called him baby Dotsun. We asked you why and you said “Because that is his name.” You were less than three when you had baby Dotsun and Osito sitting in front of you and you were reading a story to them. Momma and I just watched knowing you didn’t know how to read. I believe if anyone else was there they probably thought you did, as you showed them pictures from the book, then read to them some more and showed them more pictures. Then there was the time when Momma, you and I walked to the top of our street and on the way back down you started to run, wearing flip-flops. We had a video camera and I was videoing you and said to Momma, “I think she is going to fall down.” And Momma said “I believe you are right!” and down you went. What loving parents you had; we laughed and laughed. If the politically correct busybodies had seen this (or got the tape) they again probably would have tried to take you away from us. However, you got to your feet crying and ran back up to us. I gave Momma the camera, picked you up and kissed your scraped knees. Boy did I love you, my sweet little Ramsey. (More even now) As you got a little older you became very bossy; always bossing poor little Max around! I will never forget when Momma and I said we were going to do something you disapproved of (I have no idea what it might have been). There you were standing in the living room looking at us angrily telling us we couldn’t do it and I saying, “Oh yeah?” Then you stomped your little foot and yelled “I forbid it!” and then got even more angry as Momma and I burst into laughter. I remember when I taught you to ride a bike and not too long after that, your brother. The four of us would go to the park next to the elementary school and you two would ride all around, even up little hills and on trails. One time we were there and our neighbors had their son there trying to get him to learn to ride, but he was not doing very well. He was a year older than you and three years older than Max. Boy was I proud of you two. We would often go to that park and both you and Max would ride your bikes and play on the slides, swings and jungle gyms. What great times we had. Later Momma and I got bikes and all four of us would ride together. You insisted upon leading, which always was a problem because you were by far the slowest! Momma and I believed then, and to this day, that no one could possibly ride a bike as slow as you and not fall over. I remember when I wanted to put you in the dual language program. I couldn’t get you in the program when it started because you were a month too young but I talked to the people involved in the program and told them I thought I could have you ready to skip a year and begin with the class the following year. They tested you toward the end of the first year and you blew them away! So they let you spend a day with the class to see if you could fit in, in a real class situation. There was my blonde haired, blue eyed little girl, walking in line with all the other children, by far the smallest. I thought “What am I doing?” When I came to pick you up you were happy and said you had fun. The teacher told me, “She is amazing and for sure she can come in next year.” As you know, you were a stellar student. A couple of years later they put you in a video because you were so good at speaking Spanish. The teachers told me that you could speak better than most of the native speakers and, unlike your Dad, you had absolutely no accent! I was (and am) so proud of you. Then there was the time when you were nine or ten years old and riding in the truck with me. Out of the blue you said “All your sisters have big breasts, right?” I said, “Yes, what is your point?” Then you responded “Momma doesn’t, but I have your legs, not Momma’s.” “So?” “Do you think my breasts will be big like your sisters?” I chuckled and thought “Dear Lord, why me?” I remember when you were in fifth grade and you came home very angry because the other kids were mad at you and Mari. This was because during the kickball game you two would let the ball go by because you were too busy talking and didn’t want to be interrupted. How dare the other children expect you to stop talking just because of a stupid kickball game. That was my little girl… and with both your momma and I being very competitive athletes, and me an ex-coach! I remember when you had problems in middle school. That was when you went through your “bitchy” stage and became quite the little bully. You were by far the smallest in your class but you would eviscerate the other children with your rapier like tongue. And boy could you argue! I thought for sure you would be a lawyer when you grew up. One day the Spanish teacher called me and said you were being disrespectful and disruptive in class. So for several weeks I went and sat in that classroom every day. You were mortified. While sitting there on the first day I noticed it wasn’t just you causing problems. You were very good (because I was there) but most of the others were not. However, after the first day they were all pretty well behaved. Maybe that was because on that day one of the boys got up, walked across the room and picked up your notebook, trying to be funny. I looked at the teacher, who was working with another child, to see what she would do, but she just ignored it. All the class was laughing. Then I roared out. “Boy, put that notebook down and get your little butt back in your chair, now!” He did… Total silence, until you said, “You are not his Dad and can’t tell him what to do.” And I said, “Watch me.” Strangely the class was good for the rest of the time I was there… However, I realized that, though you were not perfect, you were not the problem. I told you that I expected you to be well behaved when I stopped coming to your class and you did, more or less. What I never did tell you was how much I respected you for standing up for your principles (misguided though they were) and how much I got a kick out of your spunk. You always called me “Daddy” and still do. “Daddy…, Daddy? Daddy!” the inflection never made a difference. It was, and always will be, one of the most beautiful of words to these old ears. I will never forget when Momma told you and your brother that she was leaving me. She then left so you two and I could talk. It absolutely broke my heart to see the pain both of you were in and I was scared too, because for the first time since you were born I realized there may be some things I couldn’t fix or protect you from. But I swore to myself and told you both that now you were the only two things that counted in my life; nothing and nobody would get between us. After the divorce Momma and I worked very hard at rearing you and your brother as a family. We would always stick up for each other when you would get mad at one or the other and consulted each other on any issues concerning you children. You playing us against each other would not be an option. Which reminds me of the time, when you were at Momma’s house and you broke curfew. She caught you and Yazna sneaking into the house early in the morning. Your momma called me later in the morning and the two of you met with me to decide on your punishment. After you accepted what we said it would be I said, “Now, for the worst part. Both of the young men you were out with will come here and talk to me, today.” Then I added “Just them, you and your mother will not be here, this will be a man to man talk.” Oh, the look of horror in your eyes! You said, “You can’t make them do that! What if they refuse?” And I said, “Then you will not be allowed to be around them anymore.” Then you begged, “Please, Daddy, don’t have your guns out and scare them.” Of course, that is exactly what I did. I sat them were they had full view of several of my guns. After I explained to them what it was to be a man, I asked them questions about themselves and their future plans. Both were very decent young men and at the end I told them that it took guts to face me and I respected them for that. One of them is still a good friend of yours to this day. Interestingly, after that they always asked you when you were supposed to be home and made sure you were home on time, if not 15 minutes early. I remember when you were a sophomore in high school and started taking classes at the Community College. There was my precious little girl taking classes with college students. You were horrified when I suggested that maybe I should walk you to your first class. When you were a junior in high school and had gotten your license you started working at Wendy’s, so grown up and such a responsible employee. I am sure you will never forget the time when you were working late and I came barging in fit to kill. You said you were going to be closing and would be home late. Of course I was involved in something and wasn’t paying attention to the details. All of a sudden it was midnight and I realized that you were not home so I called you and you didn’t answer your phone. I checked “Find My Phone” and saw you were still at Wendy’s. Then I saw the phone head to the back of Wendy’s where there was a large field and it looked like you were going into it. (You were throwing away some trash.) Thinking someone was going to hurt you I panicked, jumped into my truck and sped off to Wendy’s, found an unlocked door, entered and saw two people standing there, but not you. I roared “Where is my daughter?” scaring the bejesus out of them. Here was this angry, wild eyed man who looked like he could and would kill them. Then you came out from the back and said, “Daddy? What are you doing here?” and I said, “I called and you didn’t answer so I was worried.” In front of the others you, this tiny little thing, commenced to berate me for never listening to you. You said you had told me it would be late. Boy, were you angry! But I didn’t care because my precious daughter was safe and sound and that was all that counted. I knew you were growing up and things were changing forever when you told me. “Daddy, I love you but there will be things that I will be talking to Momma about but not you, can you understand?” I said “Yes, and it is probably for the better.” I loved and respected you so much for you honesty. Then there was that day that I got a call from you that you were in an accident. Before you could get another word out I asked if you were alright. That is all that I cared about. I went to pick you up. You were crying and it broke my heart to see you so upset. But you were alright! I remember when you received your associate’s degree from our community college before you graduated from high school. I asked myself, “How is that even possible?” You spoke at your high school graduation and wore more sashes than all the other students. I was, and am so proud of you. It was just this fall that you went off to the University of North Texas several hundred miles from our home. Momma and I told you we did not want you to work the first semester, if not the first year. We worked hard that your education would be paid for so there would be no need. You applied and got a job the first week of school. So hard headed you are! You must have gotten that from Momma. Anyway, I said, “Ok, but studies come first.” You said, “Yes, Daddy” and made the Dean’s list your first semester and the President’s list the second. Though you are still in school you are now a wonderful young adult who has spread her wings and fled the nest. God knows the bittersweet joy it gives me. I know that I will become less and less a factor in your life, but I also know that I will always be your Daddy. Someone for you to come home to, giving you counsel when asked for and emotional support when needed. In so many ways my role has changed and yet will always be the same. I thank God every day for allowing me to be your father and a factor in your development into becoming the loving, kind, sweet person you are! I don’t think it is possible to love you more than I already do. Daddy enough Mick_Stratton.htmlmailto:mstratton@hlkn.tamu.edushapeimage_2_link_0shapeimage_2_link_1