//DDD//YES - PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE BUT NOT DAD
My Father, Willie James Long.
Written by Maya Contreras, Editor-in-Chief, The DDD
I sat by the radio, as I do every year on this day, listening to the speeches of Martin Luther King Jr.
Every year, he inspires me to review my life, and to think about what I am contributing. His life was one brave act after another. Danger and precarious circumstances were daily hurdles, yet he continued contemplate what was right and good.
I have been told many times by friends and loved ones, that I am brave. On the surface, I can say, yes, that is true, but just beneath the surface I can’t say that has been totally correct.
I will say that I am a survivor. Startling poverty in childhood (no bathtub or shower, food stamps, government cheese, latch key kid, the works), single parent with three (minimum wage) jobs household, then a no parent household when my mother past away from cancer when I was a teenager. I supported myself entirely in college (as did my brothers), and I had not seen nor heard from my father since I was five.
While this makes for a tough, “I got this, don’t worry about me” exterior, it also, makes for a “If you mess with me even once I will drop you like a bad habit” attitude. An old friend of mine once remarked, “It’s like you have gasoline on one hip and matches on the other” he said with a laugh “You’re ready to burn down any bridge.”
He was right, and I had done that most of my life. To family members that I felt betrayed me and my brothers, to friends that I felt had betrayed me, to exes, (well they are usually exes for a reason- so, ehem.)
It wasn’t until I met my partner Bobby that the reasoning behind that began to crystallize for me (he is sleeping while I write this). Other then my brothers, I had forgotten what it was like to be unconditionally loved. With that unconditional love I was reminded that people can be reliable and a source of comfort and strength. That letting down a wall is not weakness, but one of the bravest acts a person can do (besides opening your ears and actually taking the time to listen to the person you love and really hearing them).
I wanted to stop burning bridges, but first I needed to talk to the one person that basically handed me the gasoline and matches in the first place- my father.
I hadn’t seen him decades, but I wanted to let him know, that I forgave him for not being there. After a little research, I found him, and in all places, Atlanta GA, where I had lived 11 years ago. As Bobby and I cruised down Atlanta’s MLK Freedom parkway on the way to the restaurant to meet up with my father, Bobby said, “You know, you don’t have to do this.” I assured him, it was something I needed to do.
From our booth at the restaurant, I could see my father in the door way- all six foot eight of him. As a former athlete many years ago, he was still in great shape. He smiled, and I couldn’t be angry, because he looked exactly like my two brothers, my picture of love.
Our conversation was brief. He told me I looked beautiful and that he hadn’t slept all night because he was so nervous to see me. He said that seeing me was the best thing that had happened to him in over twenty years, and I believed him.
As Bobby gripped my hand, my father looked pained and said, “I wasn’t a good father, hell, I wasn’t even any kind of father. I messed up. Being a professional athlete, I thought I was invincible, turns out, I wasn’t. It’s not an excuse. I should have been there for you and the boys, and I will regret it the rest of my life.”
Seeing my father admit his mistakes, made me reflect more honestly on mine.
I want to continue to be brave in more ways. I am remembering that it’s ok to want to still act, to write plays, to strive to be eloquent (and to be trite when eloquence fails) to tell old friends that I miss them (even if it was me that pushed them away). It’s ok to admit when something doesn’t work, to fail, to let go, and, as Maya Angelou likes to say, “to cut yourself a new path.”
Love is worth maintaining, it’s also worth apologizing when you are wrong, but mostly, it’s just important to be there.
My Father and I last month (Bobby took the photo)
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