Let Me Kiss You Like I Kiss My Girlfriend

Daddy used to say, "Let me kiss you like I kiss my girlfriend." As long as I can remember, I heard this every other day and I thought it was funny until I got a bit older. As a prepubescent child, I began to wonder why it made me feel creeped out when he talked that way. Then, one day he touched my chest and commented about my "filling out" and "getting breasts." He asked me if it made me feel uncomfortable...I said, "Yes" and he said, "Okay, I won't do it again." I began avoiding being alone with him though I still thought he was funny and I adored him. He would whistle and sing while shaving...just happy as hell to be greeting the morning. "Chucky-Baby! Aint nobody love you like I do!" He could crack me up all day, every day. I stopped letting him kiss me like he kissed his girlfriend...it was never really as involved as that anyway. I think, mostly, that it was his way of being funny though he flirted with a bit of perversity. One day, not long after Gayle had died and Linda had kicked him out of her house for the nth time, he got drunk and silly. I was 17 and hoping that he would stay home and give up on Linda. He was laying in bed and said, "Come here. Lay next to me." I did because I thought he was sad and needed company. He held me and started rubbing on me with his hard-on. I jumped up and yelled, "I'm your DAUGHTER not your fucking whore!" and started crying. I think he laughed a bit...maybe he thought it was a big joke, but I didn't. I told him never to touch me like that again...I am his DAUGHTER! Lisa came in at that moment and wanted to know what was wrong but I didn't tell her. I felt ashamed though I know that what happened was his weakness, not mine. I think that's why he married 3 times...because he was weak in the flesh and weak in character...spoiled to getting what he wanted...thinking he was charming enough to get away with anything. I know now that he is thinking about his life with many regrets. I feel bad for him and try to remember the fun times, the times when I felt special to him.

Memories are in the eye of the beholder...

Memories differ depending on the person who's doing the remembering. I am continually finding out about things that happened in my world that I was completely unaware of. Funny...in a sort of strange way. I once said that the past is contained in chapters in a book that I don't read anymore but, recently, I've become curious about it's effects on other members of my family. Here's a memory from my bank: I was doing "kid" things with my sisters, Mom was cooking in the kitchen, Dad was building a bookcase with his buddy in the garage. Happy times. Then my baby sister knocked a soda bottle over and it exploded causing a large gash on her hand. I felt incompetent for the first time in my life as I was asked what happened, and I didn't know. I got yelled at, though I can't remember exactly what was said. I know that my parents were just reacting to a scary situation, but it hurt anyway. Another memory: I used to bang on the old piano in the garage and dance with my gypsy skirt with reckless abandon. I never thought life could be anything but joyful and secure. One day, my mom and dad asked us to sit on the couch with them..."We've got something to tell you." When they told us that they were getting a divorce and explained that this meant they weren't going to live together anymore, it rocked me to the core. I cried and begged for this not to happen...how could they have gone through with it knowing how much it hurt ME? Would they have still divorced if they could have seen the future?