"Priceless"

There once was a man whose first name meant "priceless," and whose middle name meant "ruler of the home." His life began on the South Side of Chicago (which used to be symbolically known as "black bottom"). At a very early age, he was witness to horrendous levels of poverty and hardships. At the age of 7, as a result of his parents' divorce, he moved, along with his mother and two older brothers, to a rural community in the state of Michigan. Soon, both of his parents remarried. Shortly thereafter came numerous half brothers and sisters from both sides.

Moving from the heavily poverty stricken, black populated city of Chicago, to the very sparsely inhabited, white populated rural countryside was a huge transition for Priceless. From this experience, however, Priceless learned the advantage of being conscious of people with similar, as well as differing, backgrounds. He vowed that, should he ever have children, he'd make the effort to introduce them to both the world around them, as well as people from different backgrounds.

Priceless became a very strong figure within the family. He was looked up to by each of his younger siblings, and had an incredible bond with his two older ones. His mother knew she could always count on him to be responsible with the "little ones," and to always be there to help out around the house.

Soon, Priceless was off to college. It was there where he met a young lady that tickled his fancy. Heavily enamored with her, he was often spotted yards away, in a distance (sportin' a purple leather coat) by the young lady's friends and roommates, making the long trek across campus to see her. They soon fell in love and were married shortly after he received his Bachelor's of Science.

After 3 years of marriage, they gave birth to their first child, Little Hawk. As the years went on, three more children were added to this union: Grace, Beloved and Victory.

No matter what it took, Priceless was determined to provide for his family. Many times was he laid off from his job, forcing him to work odd jobs in order to provide. He was also determined that his family would not be confined to just the immediate surroundings, but that they would travel each year, learning of different peoples and visiting various sights. Whatever his family needed him to be, he became that.

During the 18th year of his marriage with the lady that he Earnestly loved, he fell sick with a terminal illness. They found out just before their 19th wedding anniversary of his disease. Six months and 1 week later, he breathed his last breath.

It was this day, 14 years ago, that God saw fit to give Priceless his rest from this life. He was only 40-years-old, and he left behind a loving wife and 4 beautiful children.

I remember that day well, January 17th, 1991; that day when God took my Father away from me. It was a Thursday. The weather was mild for a Michigan January, and the sun was shining. I recall getting off of the school bus that day, shortly after 4pm. I looked up the street and saw all of the cars lining the road, streaming from our driveway. I thought, in my 9-year-old mind, "He must already be dead." Already accepting of that reality, I didn't even make the effort to run up the street, I just walked. As I entered the house at 4:15pm, I saw my brother and sister there crying. Everyone told me that he had just died the moment I set foot in the house.

I posted a blog here yesterday, outlining some of the qualities of a good man. Well, my Father was all of those things and more. To call him a great man would be an incredible understatement.

I remember how he treated my mother with all due respect, love and affection. On one of her birthdays, he went all out to express to her how much he loved her, and made sure that his children were witness (as always) to this affection. I believe that he baked her a birthday cake, and had surprised her with some other things when she got home. They took pictures together right there in the living room (in one picture he was giving her a very passionate kiss) as he presented the cake to her, while my three siblings and I watched; I'll never forget that. He never raised his hand or his voice to my mother. He certainly supported her in all of her personal goals and praised her for her accomplishments.

To my siblings and I, he was a rock. With his 6'2", 250lb muscular frame, you just knew that when he was there, you were going to be alright. Once I was being chased by a very angry Pitbull dog. I had fallen on the ground, and just as the dog was about to pounce on me, there was Daddy, coming out of the house and basically daring the dog to open its mouth. He saved us from those dogs so many times.

Not just a figure of strength, he was also very tender with us. He used to get off from work, and chase my younger brother and I around the house wearing stockings on his head as if he were a robber. He'd thump me in the head and call me Peanut Head, and thump my brother in the head and call him Bean Head. I remember many times when he'd give me a hug, and I'd give him a kiss on the cheek.

I'll never forget how he made time for each of us. For me specifically, he came to my pre-school and spent the time during his busy day to make a pizza with me and the rest of my class when I was 3 (thankfully, I've got a picture of that day). Once in kindergarten, for show-and-tell, he came and explained his occupation to all of the students in the class. I didn't particularly think it was that cool at the time, but many of my classmates did; that made me happy. And I even recall how I had a presentation about the environment in 3rd grade. He picked me up for that and took me all the way to school only to have me realize that I had left my presentation at home. So he drove me all the way back, got my stuff, and we went back for my presentation. Where did he find the time or the strength (I mean he worked long night hours)?

When we were out of line, he certainly wasted no time reprimanding us with "the rod of correction." However, always within reason. His patience in this regard really amazed me. He once placed a glass fixture over a light in the basement. And not 5 minutes after he put the fixture up, did I kick a soccer ball into it and shattered it. To this day, I don't know why he didn't whoop me for doing that. I mean he told us time and time again not to kick/bounce/throw balls in the house. Instead, he just scraped all the glass up and let it go. He didn't even say anything to me about it. Patient, he was!

And whether it was us doing our chores, or us doing well in school, he always reinforced "good behavior" with rewards. Sometimes ice cream bars, sometimes money, sometimes verbal praise. He was just so proud of us, and we knew it.

I owe my love of music (for he played piano and composed many songs) and sports (we would watch for hours together) to him. And certainly I owe my sweet tooth to him (he always had some kind of candy with him). I'll never forget how he predicted that "the Bulls are gonna win it next year," after watching the Pistons win the NBA championship in 1990 (though he never got to see his prediction come true-which it did). I'll always remember his bellows of "let's get with the program" when he would come home from work (in order to rally my siblings and I to do our chores so that the house would be in order by the time my mom got home). And almost prophetically, with respect to his short life, he once wrote a song titled "Life is Like a Vapor."

So much I'll never forget! To us, to me, he was indeed the Priceless Ruler of the Home!

Dad, I don't know why God chose to take you from me while you were yet so young, and while you still had four young children and a wife to take care of. There are so many things I wish I could talk to you about now. But I just want to say thank you for setting the bar real high, and for being the best example of what a Man and a Father should be. I look forward to seeing you again, I've got so much to tell you.

Priceless...Daddy...I miss you...rest in peace!

-Love,
Maelstrom