This was a very popular song to play at weddings when I got married years ago. I think you can understand why. It is a song that seems to encapsulate everything that a father should feel as their little girl grows up. I think a woman's wedding day is probably the most significant in the handing off of responsibility from the father to the husband and why this song has been used so often.
I know you can't possibly be surprised that I did not use this song at my wedding. In fact, I don't care much for it. I don't even care much for butterflies. They aren't a decoration you will find much of in my home and I don't have much love for them as a symbol of anything.
The song is probably a polar opposite of the true story behind the title of this blog post.
As the most dreaded day of the year inches closer, I am swamped with one horrific birthday memory after another. Yes, I HATE my birthday and not because I don't want to get older like a lot of other women.
On my 16th birthday, I got this gift from my dad.
This necklace and earrings set was presented to me on my 16th birthday in a small, shiny, blue box. My mom, brothers and brother's friends were all gathered around to see what my dad had bought for me. This was the only time I remember him ever actually purchasing a gift for me, a rarity indeed.
He insisted that I give him a kiss before receiving the gift. If we were a moderately healthy family with even a mediocre moral compass, I am sure this would have been an acceptable activity. A kiss on the cheek to show appreciation wouldn't seem that much of a stretch in most families.
With a crowd of people, I was hesitant to do as asked. After much pressure, I did as requested and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, even though I was completely embarrassed.
A second before I was able to do that, he turned his head causing me to plant a kiss on his lips. Unintentional on my part, completely planned on his. He slapped me across the face as if I had intentionally acted inappropriately.
I was incredibly embarrassed by what had happened and by being hit in front of everyone at the house. I went straight to my room, my dad a foot step behind.
He beat me repeatedly with his belt before throwing the box down on the floor and leaving.
It probably took me weeks to months before finally opening the box to find the necklace and earrings.
I can assure you that they weren't worth the beating. Yet, I lived with the assurance that if I hadn't done as he requested, I would have been beaten anyway. It was another no win situation for me, as I often found myself in as a kid. And, let's not forget that even at 16, I was still just a kid.
Even after all this time, I still have the necklace and earrings. Neither have been worn. I cannot even tell you why I kept them. It isn't like I need a physical reminder of what a bad guy my dad is, I have enough of that with memories alone. It isn't because they were such a special sweet 16 gift either. They weren't anything I had asked for or expected. They certainly aren't anything I would wear today either.
If this were the worst birthday experience I had in the past 36 years, I would still have a reason to dislike my birthday. Unfortunately, it's just one of 36 and I have vivid memories of so many of them being much worse than this. Even as an adult, I have struggled to have a good birthday because there has always been a certain level of outside, dysfunctional interference.
Maybe this year could start a new trend, so that I'm not constantly wishing I had never been born....but I've wished that for a long without any luck!
No comments:
Post a Comment