I grew up watching the games with my dad and his friends and didn't actually pay much attention to it until my late teens. But when I did finally start watching them play because I wanted to and not just because it was Sunday and Dad said that's what we're watching, I instantly fell in love with the sport.
Now I don't claim to be any kind of football guru and most of the time when that yellow flag goes flying through the air I have no idea why and didn't see what had transpired. That's because I only watch the quarterback and that's hard enough to keep track of. Honestly, I usually have a hard time finding the damn pigskin. Now my dad, the is like an enigma to me. That man can watch every single player, both on offense and defense, and is calling out penalties even before the referee's. I don't know how he does it. Espcially since he can't even find the hamper for his dirty or clothes, or the closet to hang up his coat. But I'm telling you my dad is amazing to watch while I watch the football game if that even makes sense.
Being raised in Pittsburgh gives me a certain kind of pride. I feel bad for the folks who haven't grown up here and who have shitty ass football teams... ie Cleveland. It almost feels like an honor to be able to watch these men play a game I have come to love. I don't get all riled up as some fans do. Sure I might yell out a profanity here or there when they do something stupid but for the most part I just sit back and watch my dad watch the game. It's something that has deepened our bond. I'm a daddy's girl even though I'm approaching the age of 37. Always have always will be.
Weird how my mind works, when I started to write this blog post I only meant to talk about my favorite football team but as it turns out I guess I had more than just football on my mind. As I get older and begin to mature I notice that instead of going to my mother for advise, I've always kinda shifted to my dad. I don't know if that's the way most father-daughter relationships are or not but that's the way ours is, my dad and I.
I can tell it hurts my mom's feelings but I just can't help it. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother just as much as I do my dad. It's just that my mom isn't the type who can just sit there and listen; she has to "fix". Sometimes I just need to vent or to cry and I'm not looking for advise, I'm just wanting a shoulder to cry on and my dad has the ability to distinguish when and what I need at the moment. I don't intend to give my mom a bad rap because she is one of the most giving people I've ever come across, she's just not good with listening to someone. She's always got an answer or if it's something that makes her uncomfortable she'll just get up and leave the room. Take the time I came out and told my parents that I was a lesbian.
I was 19 years old and I asked my parents to join me in their living room, that I had something I wanted to tell them. I could almost feel the tension coming from my mother in the air surrounding us. When I told them I was crying and I don't know why but I also appologized for it. Now I know that's a pretty big bombshell to drop on your parents but my mom did not take the news well. She was pretty much speechless and when she did try to say something, no words could come out. After about 5 minutes she just left the room.
My dad then came over to the loveseat I was sitting on and he just wrapped his arms around me and let me cry. He never even finched when I told them. His eyes were a bit misty but other than that he didn't say anything either. But you see that's exactly what I needed - a sounding board, someone I could finally tell this secret to. It was the 2nd hardest conversation I've ever had to have with them.
When I had finally calmed down and stopped crying my dad let go. I fell back into the sofa and felt completely drained. You know what my dad said? He grabbed my hand and looked me straight in the eye and said, "Sugarbear, you are my daughter and frankly your sex life is none of my business. All I want for you is to be happy and if it's going to be a woman who does that well then that's just what it is. Quite frankly I don't want to know who is having sex with my little girl". That last sentence cracked me up and the two of just burst out laughing. My mom came back when she heard us laughing but she still didn't say much.
After I had gotten home to my own apartment that night, she called and said that she wasn't mad but she felt bad. She said that she didn't want my life to be any harder than it had to be. That I could respect. I would think that most parents would feel that same way. It's just so damn strange to me that I can talk to my father about who I'm dating or if we're watching a movie I can say to him something like "Geez, she's hot as hell"!
I don't know how this post turned into all of this and it probably doesn't make any sense because I'm trying to keep up typing the words that are spewing from my mind. So before I get all jumbled up I'm gonna shut it down for tonite and maybe I'll read it in the morning. Or maybe I won't. Maybe it was just meant to be. I don't know.
