Daddy Wasn't There.

Daddy wasn’t there.

When all of my girlfriends went to the Daddy-Daughter dances, I stayed home. When I watched children on television talk to their mommies and daddies in the same room, I couldn’t relate. I’ve never heard the words “Go ask your father” mumble out of my Mommy’s mouth when I asked her for a cookie before dinner. It was just Mommy. It was always my Mommy. The term “combined income” didn’t refer to Mommy and Daddy’s income combined. It was Mommy’s day job plus Mommy’s night job. Daddy wasn’t there. So Mommy was Daddy…

…Until Brother stepped up.

Brother was there. Brother was there when Mommy was not. Only 5 years older than I, he played the role of the missing man who was 30 years older. He taught us to be tough. He showed us how to be strong. Because of Brother, I learned the true meaning of dedication. But most importantly, I learned how to take a punch. A hard punch. To the stomach. To the face. All over. I was a tough girl. All because of Brother. I knew how it felt to be bullied, so my classmates were nowhere near intimidating. Brother was both Daddy and Big Brother. Brother was there when Mommy was not.

When I liked a boy, I had to receive Brother’s approval. When thinking about my wedding, Brother would be the one I imagined would walk me down the aisle. Brother was Daddy. And Daddy was nowhere to be found. Daddy wasn’t there to show me how to cut my food. Instead, Brother took control. He showed me the correct way to cut my pancakes: Rip them apart. He trained me how to drink like a lady should: Participate in chugging contests. Brother taught me the importance of keeping my “school clothes” clean: Roll around in the grass aimlessly whenever you see a hill. Because of Brother, I have little to NO PATIENCE. He taught me that it was okay to sneak in the downstairs closet and peek at your Christmas gifts before Mommy wrapped them. If I want to know now¸ why wait? When Mommy was gone, we always snuck. Every year. And if I hadn’t gotten excited about my Baby Wet-Wet, our cover would have never been blown. The memories are endless when thinking of my childhood. And they almost always involve Brother. Why? Because Brother was there when Mommy was not.

But Mommy wasn’t there for the same reasons Daddy wasn’t there.

I’ll never really know why Daddy wasn’t there. Mommy was making a better life for her children. Daddy was creating other lives with other women and their children. Mommy loved us all dearly. She is the strongest woman I know. And a strong woman reared strong children. But most importantly, a strong Brother. A Brother that was also a Daddy. A Brother that showed me the importance of a father figure in a young girl’s life.

So now, when I tear apart pancakes with my hands, have water-chugging competitions, mess up my “good clothes” by rolling down a grassy hill, or become impatient, I'm not ashamed. I'm grateful. That’s what Brother taught me. Brother was there when Mommy was not.

And Brother was there because Daddy never was.