I got home tonight around eleven, I wanna say, and almost as soon as I walked in the door, I called my father, who most recently referred to himself as "estranged" from me. This characterization he chose for himself really bothered me, as I felt that in calling himself estranged, he was pointing a finger at me, as if I had estranged him. This is of course with my little (very very little) knowledge of the dictionary. Yes, I majored in English, but dayum! that doesn't mean I ever touched the dictionary except to find one word at a time. I do not self-proclaim to be any such Malcolm X who so diligently studied words so eloquate himself for future audiences. I haven't yet forseen that goal in my life. (and i know you all like my new word=eloquate...yeah)

Anyway, not too long after my father's choice of words came to my knowledge, via my eyes, I was in conversation with a close friend of mine, who suggested (him being a man) a few things to me. And as I have always highly revered this man, I took some notice to what he was saying and decided to apply it. In so doing, I called my father soon afterwards. (I know I'm being vague, but in the interest of respect, I'll continue to do so.) I called my father and received no response, but you must understand that he and I had had little to no contact over the past several months, if not year. So I called, saying something like "Hi, I love you, call me."

I later found out that this call left him quite the confused one, but after a few friendly phone calls, made recently (on and around both of our birthdays, within 4 days of each other) we seem to have bridged some of the mis/ill communications that have occured over the past very long time, and I just had to share my feelings of overwhelmingness with someone. I chose you.

I realized that the man who is my daddy can now, after my 23 years on this earth, him not only having been present at my birth, but also the hands into which i was born--at home--can now better serve me as a friend than the superhuman being I had made him out to be. (anybody know what that's like?)

I first decided to call to make amends on my birthday, September 4th. I had been in a bit of a funk, though I was in Seattle with some of my best friends from Howard. And when me and my friend finally made it to a CD store favorite of hers, I felt a peace come over me. And as the minutes turned into hours as we milled around in the store, I started hearing and remembering the music my father would have playing on Sunday mornings when me, my sister and mother would return from church and he would be home having what my mom called a "virgo attack," mopping the floor or cleaning/organizing another part of the house, or even cooking breakfast. And when I heard this music, I was again reminded that my father was no longer the man I could call whenever I wanted to. He hadn't been that in a long time, and I honestly can't think back, even now, to when we last had that type of relationship.
All the same, I was in the place of memories and I decided, since I hadn't yet heard from him and it was getting late (especially on the west coast) that I should call him--so I did. And we talked briefly, me coaching him through the process of telling me happy birthday, him kind of consenting, but obviously uncomfortable.

I had come to the decision, or the conclusion, that today (that day being the 4th and my 23rd birthday) would be the day I took my life in my hands, and approached it with the seriousness and maturity I would need to go on. And in realizing or claiming that destiny for myself, I saw my strong and urgent need for my father to be back in my life on a constant level. It all of a sudden became a life/stifling kind of situation and I knew what the right decision would be, no matter how humbling.

So I called him, and then we talked, and then I called another time and I asked a question I wanted to ask and I got an answer. And then I called when I got back to New York from Seattle to let him know I got home safe and I think he appreciated that. And then we may have even talked yesterday, I don't remember. But I do know we talked today, a few times. It was his __ birthday and I'm glad to still be able to reach out and touch my daddy. And even though our two-hour conversation was definitely very humbling and at times he said things I didn't want to hear, I know I said some things he didn't want to hear either, both tonight on the phone and previously via email and through my actions.

We've both done some inconsiderate things to each other and though no specific words of apology were spoken tonight, I know the intentions, or else I'm at least making them up as I go along.

All I know is I'm feeling a whole lot more complete now--like some things have come together that needed to be together. And for that, I am so thankful.