When I was 3 years old and my brother hadn’t been born our dad was arrested. I can remember vividly my dad not returning home and asking my mom when he was coming back. I later learned that he was in jail. He was sentenced to 21 years in prison. This was the most horrifying thing I experienced as a 3 year old.
I very faintly remember moving to my grandparent’s house. Packing up all of my toys into boxes. Stuff was everywhere you stepped. Pots and pans all over the kitchen, clothes across the couches, covers over the TV, everything was a mess. We had many good times but I remember one night when I received a letter from my daddy and my mom and I were sitting on the top bunk of the bed. It was the summer of Kindergarten when I was 6 and my mom helped me read the letter he wrote in cursive. I can’t exactly remember what the letter said but my mom and I were sitting there crying.
“I know you miss him. I do too,” my mom mumbled.
“When is he coming home mommy?” I cried.
Eventually we moved into our very own house. It was so beautiful and I was so happy to finally have a place to call my home. I had my very own room and no longer had to share with my brother. My room was yellow, I had a full bed, flower drapes, and stuffed animals everywhere. My room was the cutest room in the whole house.
After while my brother started to notice that his friends dads were around but his wasn’t so, he asked my mom where he was out of the blue. My brother finally was old enough to understand at about 5 years old. My mom explained to him the best she could and he was a smart child so he understood.
We went to visit my dad every Summer. He moved to many different places all the way from high to low security prisons. I hated visiting him when he was in high security prisons because I couldn’t hug him or sit in his lap. That’s very important to a daughter because I’d always been a daddy’s girl. He would take me anywhere I wanted from mall to mall getting me any and every thing I could ever want as a little 3 year old child and I really missed that.
Then he got moved down to medium security prison. It was better and worst visiting my dad. It was better because we could hug, talk without using a phone, and even take pictures. The worst thing was it was so hard to dress nice because you would have to take anything that had metal in it off and it was a real pain in the butt.
This one time my mom had to go all the way back to the hotel to change because she had sandals on but I could wear sandals. It made all of us so mad.
“These rules are so stupid!” exclaimed my mom. “ What’s so bad about sandals mommy?” I asked curiously.
“I really don’t know” responded my mom angrily.
We went back and they took us back to the visitation room where we waited anxiously for my dad to come out. When he came out everybody was so excited. My brother and I ran and jumped in my dad’s arms as he lifted us off the ground.
“Daddy!” shouted my brother and I.
“Hey Lil’ Buddy!” my dad excitedly said to my brother.
“Hey My Princess!” my dad said as he kissed my cheek.
We walked over to the seats where the rest of the family was he hugged my Grandmother and Grandaddy, and kissed my mom. The adults sat and talked while my brother and I were playing board games. They said they needed some adult time. I still was being nosey and overheard my dad talking about how tired of prison he was. He’d been there for 10 years and everybody felt his pain. But I was just patiently waiting for my favorite part of the visit. My 1 on 1 time with my dad.
Every time I would go and visit my dad we would have 1 on 1 daddy and daughter time. I always loved that time because we can just talk and keep things between us. This is what kept our relationship so strong.
“So, how’s daddy’s princess been?” he said as I sat in his lap.
“Good,” I responded.
“Have you been missing me?” asked my dad.
“Yes, daddy how would I not?” I replied.
“I just wanted to hear that,” my dad said as he chuckled.
We would continue to talk until it was my brother’s turn to get his time. I would always get jealous because I wanted all the time to myself. I’m really selfish when it comes to time with him.
Sometimes I didn’t like going to school because I’d always have to lie about my situation. I don’t want everybody to know because I feel like if I tell certain people I would be looked upon as a whole different person. Just because my dad made a mistake and is in prison doesn’t mean that, that makes me a different person. I still am who I am and nothing’s going to change that. Only a few of my best friends know. I knew they wouldn’t judge me because of this one thing and I love all those friends for that.
One day when I was in 5th grade I remember having my purple sweater dress on with white polka dots, in mid September, skipping from recess when my teacher stopped me. She asked if my parents were divorced because she’s never seen my dad at any PTA meetings or performances. To me this was really none of her business but I told a lie like I always did. I never answered so she just assumed my parents were divorced.
“How often do you visit your dad? My children go see their dad during the summer,” my teacher said.
“I see my dad in the summer too,” I replied.
“Where does your dad live? He must live far if he never goes to your performances,” she said.
“He lives in Virginia,” I said as I rolled my eyes.
“Do you know what he does for work?” she asked.
I didn’t know what to say so I started to think of manly jobs really quickly. I flashed back to when my friend told me her dad was a coal miner.
“He’s a coal miner,” I said as I walked inside from recess.
I didn’t want her to ask me questions about my dad unremittingly so I walked back to the classroom. Ever since then a teacher never has asked me about my personal life like that.
Now my dad has moved to a low security prison and I haven’t seen him in two years. It’s been hard but he calls my phone a lot and we can email whenever we want. He may be able to get out early but we will never know until that time. I want him here but at the same time I’m nervous. It would be so different having him around after all these years without him here with us. Things would probably change for everybody in the house. I really hope there will be good changes and no bad changes. This is going to be hard but this situation has made my family strong and we can get through anything together.
Daddy’s Princess
