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Trees

“I had glimpses of the dad he would become long ago”

Sometimes I look at my kids resting in their dad’s arms and they remind me of children sitting underneath a shady tree.

The branches of his arms shield them from life’s harsh elements while his solid trunk acts as the oak barrier between them and the big, scary world.

My husband is a tree. He always has been…a tree.

His strength is quiet and unassuming. His stature is tall and impressive. His smiles are the unexpected light breaking through the leaves, exposing rays of sun and warmth, drenching the witness’s soul with joy.

I’m crazy about my husband.

And watching him become a father twice has made me fall in love with him all over again.

But I had glimpses of the dad he would become long ago.

Before we got married I had a dog that cut her paw on broken Brooklyn glass one summer. Keith washed it and wrapped it with such care. I still remember him stroking Maggie’s (dog’s name) back and whispering in her ear as he treated her wound.

Keith — It’s OK Maggie, Daddy’s got you

I sat next to him on the bathroom floor and sighed with relief. I knew he’d be a great dad.

And he is.

When Luna was born he marveled at how strong a newborn little girl could be. He’d stare at her tiny-handed grip on his finger and gaze in her eyes for hours as he held her in his lap.

He whispered to her all the time.

Me — What are you saying babe?

Keith — I’m making promises

Promises….Wow……OK….(smiles)…OK

Every day on social media I see women that are completely let down by the men in their life. Because I’m Black and my circle is mostly Black, I see a very dim side of the perception of Black fathers.

Dads that won’t pay child support

Dads with 2nd and 3rd families on the side

Dads that won’t visit their kids

Dads in the home that are dismissive of the kids

Dads that just went MIA one day

The terrible stories are endless.

But that flies in the face of what I actually see all around me.

There are millions of men out there that love the HELL out their families. And because “doom and gloom” sells, we very often don’t GET to see the millions of Black men that have always loved their kids.

We don’t see that the attention most dads give their children is not special event… it’s just a Tuesday.

And there are so many trees.

My tree lets me be the woman I want, the artist I want and the mom I want to be….. every day.

I snagged him young, yes I did…saw him when we were young and put him on permanent lockdown because I know a good thing.

His relationship with the kids is so strong, I sometimes find myself jealous. I know…why?

Well….we Mamas like to believe we are the end-all, be-all because…sometimes we are…but Dads…..Dads mean just as much as you.

Dads have their own private jokes, their own rules and own bad recipes . Even the science of Bad “Dad-did-my-hair” Hair…is an art form.

What it means to be a mom has changed with time. So has what it means to be a dad.

Part of my happiness of being Luna and Razi’s mom is rooted in the fact that they also have Keith as Dad.

He and the kids have their own routes home from the subway that are different from mine. Sometimes they like his way better…that gets me a little, but ultimately it makes me smile.

Because long ago I jumped over the broom into a new life with a man I promised God I would forge a path with.

I promised “for better or for worse” and when it was time, the babies came through.

That could have been “for worse”, because momming is tough work and there are some that have to go it alone, through broken promises, swallowing disappointment.

Me?

I’ve had my very best friend chopping life’s wood with me while we met our adult selves and 2 new people we love more than life itself.

I’ve struggled to blend my life as an Artist Mom with a man that will pick up the kids from rehearsal, take them to the park to let me write, make room in the house for Mom’s office and tell every single person he knows about my show.

I’ve been loving these kids through every season, wiping noses and butts, teaching ABC’s and home-training while the years pass.

And in between the kisses get given, the meals get cooked and the birthdays are celebrated.

But the whole time…

The whole entire time I was sitting underneath the most glorious tree

#BlackLivesMatter

#YesIAMThatMom

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