Today I turned 51

“Monday, it’s your birthday” means you and your family and/or friends will exchange birthday wishes for the upcoming year and for the great year that has passed. “Christmas is your birthday?” Now that’s an entirely different situation.
When I was much younger, I was convinced that all the merriment, the trees, the lights, the gifts and family gatherings were all to celebrate me. Yeah, I know it’s a little fantastical, but we never celebrated anyone’s else birthday with the same sort of fanfare. So, what was I supposed to think? Raised an only child. Spending most of my formative years with either adults or children much younger than me, made for a confusing time. Christmas day as the only tween in the family or as the only person under 25 years old naturally caused much of the attention to be on me. The younger neices & nepews were at least 10+ years younger and they all had each other. One set included 4 sisters & the other was a sister and a brother. All the while I’m over here like, what about me?
I learned early on how to navigate, ok, manipulate the setting to work in my favor. Some called it spoiled, I called it loved. That’s what you do when you know you’re adopted. “They” chose me. The cousins were “stuck” with their kids. Therefore, I could easily conclude I had the advantage. I had the upper hand and here’s my time to cash in. If you are thinking “damn, that’s a pretty messed up why to look at the holidays”, I will agree. Hindsight is so much clearer.
Getting married young; 18 and having the first kid at 20, followed quickly by 2 more by the time I was 23, did in the immortal words of the “Fresh Prince of Bel Aire” my world was flipped turned upside down. No longer could I allow the holidays to be about me. No more would the celebration or the gatherings have yours truly as the center of attention. Wow, talk about having your world flipped upside down, but I had no alternative. My babies were way more important than me. Seeing them happy was a the greatest joy I could imagine.

Fast forward several years. The boys are grown and have family’s of there own, and me, well depression sucks. My current state causes me mass amounts of anxiety and a reason to withdraw. Add to the fact they all live 2 hours away, and I’m completely overwhelmed. Do not think I take for granted the loving relationship and the desire to be the coolest “Papa Marky” that ever lived as trivial. As much as I love my older boys, the grandkids make my heart flutter. They are beautiful, amazing, funny, stubborn, opinionated, and loving. In them I see an immense amount of fortitude and personality, just like their dads. As I was always the center of attention growing up, I now want the make them the center of attention. My birthday, on Christmas, means very little to me now.
My one and only hope is that one day, I can learn to deal with my depression so that my grandkids receive my full attention. They already have my unwavering, neverending, undying love, and are my greatest joy. To AJ, Timmy, Lily-bean, Daxton & Niko, your papa Marky love you beyond words & can only hope you grasp on to the love and concern your daddies have for you. I want this to be a generational understanding; the babies come first. No matter how old you are, the youngest among us deserves the greatest attention.
What started out as a self-focused, selfish time of year, has become the greatest time of year to focus on the kiddo’s. To my kids, I love you and am so proud of you. To my grandkids, you are my world, and I want the best life has to offer you.
Papa Marky loves you.
I just wish I could love myself.


I’m a single dad, not a freak of nature

At the school talent show a few years ago, I walk in with my kids, sit down, and immediately feel the stares of nearly every mom in the room. I couldn’t hear what the were saying to each other in hushed whispers, but from the looks I was getting, you’d think I was a bug-eyed Martian who just stepped out of a UFO, only to randomly wander into the High School cafeteria.

From the age of 23, I was a single dad, raising three young boys under the age of 4. This is the result of finding all of my stuff and the boys stuff packed up, sitting on the front porch when I arrived home from work. Their mother basically told me to go, take the boys, and leave because she needed a break. That break turned out to be several years long, much of which involved little to no contact or visitation between mother and children. To say this was strange is putting it lightly. In the early 90’s, father’s don’t have custody of their children, let alone be raising them. Other than a few years during their early teens when they lived with their mother, I had physical custody of my boys up until they turned 18. Was it easy? Absolutely not. Would I change anything? Absolutely not. 

Fast forward to 2014. Having remarried to a lady having three small children under the age of 5 in 2005, I found myself once again single. This time, the children I had raised as my own, the only father the 2 youngest had ever known, were suddenly taken away as a means of sticking it to me. Knowing I still wanted to he a part of their life, even if their mother and I were not going to be together, the easiest way to get back at me, hurt me, or manipulate me to do something I didn’t want to do, was to threaten to keep me away from them. 

Fast forward to the second half of the year, and I am called by Child Protective Services. Am I interested in taking in the three children I had raised and been a father (stepfather) to? Absolutely! Could I come pick them up? Absolutely! From this point, the court became involved and I eventually received my foster care license and I fostered the three of them until 2016 when I was granted permanent guardianship. 

So, it was during this time that we went to the talent show at the High School, mentioned above. In 2015, what is so strange about a man raising children on his own? Why were there the odd stares, the hushed whispers, and the sense that I was out of place? I am normally the last person to pick up on subtle hints. Come on, I’m a guy. We need it spelled out, diagramed, and given strict instructions or we just don’t pick up on signals from women.

It’s hard enough trying to be a dad, let alone having to fill both roles to teenagers. It’s even more difficult when the 16 year old, the oldest, is a daughter, better yet, a young lady. You mother’s know what you’ve had to do, those trips to the pharmacy for “products”, the shopping trip because the undergarments are too small and need to be replaced, or the conversations that you’ve had about boys and dating. 

You know how hard it was to get parents to allow their young daughter to spend the night with my daughter, once they found out there wasn’t going to an adult female there? I watched her reaction when her friends said they couldn’t stay the night, or the other parents who were more than happy to have her come to their house, but she couldn’t experience that same feeling. 

What is the big deal? Why do the children have to suffer for the reasons outside of their control? Yes, I’m a single dad. But, I’m not a freak of nature and my children are not strange because they live with their dad. If same sex couples can raise happy and healthy children, if single ladies can raise happy and healthy children, then single men can raise happy and healthy children.

So, the next time you see a dad with children, don’t assume the mom is just busy, don’t think the mother had to be a criminal for the dad to have custody, and most importantly, do not treat the kids as if they’re damaged, simply because they are being raised by Dad.

Goodbye old friend



You introduced yourself as a friend, there to listen whenever I was alone and depressed. I would spend time with you every now and then, it seemed to help me cope with life for a time. As time went on, you started coming around more often. I liked it because you always listened. As my life turned south and my stress levels began to rise, you were just a quick phone call away.

You began to show up at my home every day and soon you were everywhere I looked. I couldn’t go anywhere that you weren’t there. Night or day, I found you to be a constant friend. Even when my life turned better and I didn’t need your company, you refused to leave. Every morning, I promised myself I was going to ask you to leave. By the time work was over I had changed my mind and there you were, waiting for my when I got home. Well, truth be told, most times you needed a ride so I would stop to pick you up.

The nights I made dinner for my family I skipped eating to hang out with you. Most times we would sing and dance in the kitchen. Many times, the boys would laugh and make fun of us and my wife would just look disappointed. Remember that time we tried to ride the skateboard together; the boys found it funny, but my back is still not right after we fell off backwards onto the driveway. Yes, we laughed together but that was more you than me.

Remember the time we hung out early in the morning before we were supposed to take the dogs to the vet’s office; yeah, I was stupid for listening to you and believing I was in any condition to drive, let alone try to control both dogs. We shared many nights together. Because of our friendship I’ve neglected spending time with my wife and kids.

Do you realize you are the reason my daughter moved out at 17 years old? Did you know our hanging out has made me unable to be a father to my kids? Have you ever considered why my 14-year-old son has a problem with pot? Yeah, it’s you! Hanging out with you has kept me from realizing it has gotten so out of hand that he’s been expelled from school for selling pot AT school?

Just so you know, something has got to change. Our friendship has become toxic. You always wanting to hang out is costing me my health, my family, and could possibly cost me my job unless I change my ways. So, let me break the news to you as eloquently as I can so that you will clearly understand my intent. You may have noticed I haven’t wanted to hangout in over 2 months, 60 days today to be exact.

At first, I really missed you and wanted to hangout, but I had no way of getting in contact with you. This was very scary, I felt alone, like you do when a relationship comes to an end. But, some very kind and loving people, my wife included, took care of me and offered me the help I needed to deal with my separation anxiety. As the days have ticked by, I haven’t missed you quite as much as I expected. Strange thing is, I’ve enjoyed spending time alone without you. I had forgotten how much I could like myself and as with the breakup of a relationship, there are random moments when I think about you, but I don’t miss you anymore.

So, this is farewell. Our friendship is over. I won’t be taking your calls anymore. I won’t be answering your text’s and I’ve blocked your emails. My house is a place where you are no longer welcome. So, in the clearest way I can say it and I hope you hear me loud and clear; Get the Hell out of my life. I don’t want you here no more, you’re not welcome anymore. I have too much to live for and I’m not going to let you ruin my chance for health, happiness, and the love from my wife, my kids, my grandkids, my friends and anyone who cares about me and those I love and care about.

So, this is it….


Get the Hell out and Stay out!!

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