A Lesson in Selectiveness.

My father married my mother when he was twenty one. He was born on March 25th, 1957; my grandfather was on a submarine.

I was born when he was twenty five.

I am and will always be,a Daddy's girl. I spent the first six months of my life strapped to his chest while he did Young Guy Things like

Play cards
Make homemade fries
Go swimming
Teach me Beatles songs
Have his friends over
Write me postcards
Go on dates with my Mama
Telling me you girls are the best thing that ever happened to me.

He is a total bad ass.

I give my father a lot of credit for my sense of self esteem, my outgoing-ness... my wanderlust. He instilled in me a sense of self that is so deep rooted- I expect it of men.
He was/is the picture perftect dad- always playing with us, taking us tobogganing, always joking, aways smiling. He never spanked my sister or I, never screamed at us, never grabbed us- nothing. Yet, we respected him.
I remember being a small chid and waiting for him to come home from sea. I've been on the news twice you know, being down on the jetty screaming

DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY

as loud as my four and five year old lungs would allow.

He would scoop us up and kiss my mother.

Before my sister was born, when I was very tiny, no matter if I could read or not he would send me a postcard from wherever he was.

Dear sweetie baby. I'm in Japan, and even though you are four, these women are likely as tall as you. I miss you sweetie baby, be good for Mama. Love, Daddy.

I read those postcards years and years and years and years later; they still make my heart swell.

The day my sister was born I was four years, five months and twenty two days. I had been anticipating her arrival; the day she was born I woke up in the middle of the night to a lot of commotion and he said
Shhhhh. Everything is ok. Go back to sleep.
And carried me to my room.

She was born hours later, in the late morning. I was staying at his friend's house when he blew in the door saying

Catherine, you have a sister!!

With his hazel green eyes glowing and sparkling- she would later have the very same eyes, auburn hair and bright smile; a huge contrast to my blue-grey eyes and strawberry-blonde hair.
After all, we look like half sisters but have the same blood type- she is my soul mate.

Unfortunately, he had to go to sea when she was three days old; when he came back she cried because she didn't know who he was. He stopped going to sea when she was almost three. They had a lot of catching up to do.


When I started dancing, he was forty three. I told him only this year.

I expect a lot out of men. I expect them to kill bugs, cut the heads off snakes, hold doors, put their arm around me in the presence of dangerous people, carry me home when I am too drunk, take care of me, be understand and never abandon me; like he never did.
I thought I found it. I didn't. Maybe if I wouldn't have had my father I'd put up with a lot more and be less selective and more forgiving.

I spoke to my father this afternoon.

He doesn't sound old and his advice still rings true.

Catherine, I take no issue with what you do. But remember- only you have to go to bed with yourself at the end of the night. Don't do anything you keep yourself up over.
It makes sense.


To all you dancers and darlings who don't have excellent fathers; I feel for you. So I give you my father's advice, and I hope it helps you sleep better tonight, at least.