I have been working on another article, "Why I won't Vote for Ron Paul in 2012", (how's that for a tease) but have decided to take a few moments to get personal and talk about "My Princess".
My Princess is actually my oldest daughter Charon, named after one of the moons that orbits Pluto. That's her as a wee one shown with me in the picture above. I have two daughters, each very special in their own, unique ways. However, I'm going to limit this entry to Charon since she left for college 4 days ago and started her classes earlier today.
Her early life wasn't particularly easy. For a short time she and her mom were actually homeless. Her biological father essentially abandoned the two of them when she around 3, at about the same time I met her mom. I remember well the first time I met Charon. It was at the Dairy Queen in Marble Falls, Texas. To say she was high strung would be a huge understatement. She would barely leave her mom's side. She eventually did though, just to ride one of those little metal bouncy horses on the restaurant's playground. I'm certain you know what I'm talking about, the kind thats attached to concrete with what looks like the coil spring from an old pickup. At any rate, as soon as she got on it she did nothing but cry. Suffice it to say she didn't really like to try new things.
At that time, she would only sleep in her mom's bed at night. Being the young, single man that I was at the time that simply wouldn't do. So I decided to buy her a bed and, in an effort to get Charon excited about it, make a big deal out of the purchase and subsequent assembly in her room. The plan essentially worked but the excitement was short lived. As a little girl not wanting to try new things, sleeping alone in her own bed didn't go over very well that first night. Charon cried in protest those first couple of hours but I somehow managed to convince her mom that was alright and eventually we all fell asleep. In spite of the hardship of that first night that taste of independence for her was so powerful she never again wanted to sleep with her mom. Resisting change, then embracing it is a pattern she continues to this day.
I remember making her a step stool so she could turn lights off and on by herself. She was so addicted to this newfound independence that if you turned a light off for her she would rush to turn it back on so she could turn it back off herself. If that didn't convince me of the trouble I was headed for then most certainly the ass chewing I received from her at age 4 for leaving the toilet seat up did. Suffice it to say she was beginning to thrive..
A year or two later, I taught her to ride a new bike I bought her. Repeating her earlier pattern she hated it at first. Then she cried her eyes out learning it. Of course, once she mastered it you couldn't keep her off of it.
She had become my daughter by now but still had a few years of catching up to do with regard to being the child of a Patriot. Her first lesson learning to print in the public school system also became her first lesson in questioning authority. Her school taught a new style of printing called D'Nealian handwriting. When I found this out I simply told Charon that she needed to explain to her teacher that her Dad said she would be learning traditional Manuscript style and if there was a problem to please contact me. The next day I received a note from her teacher explaining all of the "benefits" of this new style of handwriting. I sent back one final note explaining the fallacy of the alleged benefits and, while I was at it, pointed out to the teacher that she had misspelled D'Nealian, which I must admit I mischieviously took some delight in. Charon learned to print Manuscript style while the rest of her class learned D'Nealian.
Later, she got to expand her Patriot street cred by appearing on a Libertarian access TV show in Austin, Texas called "Live and Let Live". She also helped me rebuild the Branch Davidian Church in Waco, Texas, at one point even receiving babysitting services from survivor Sheila Martin. Her piece de' resistance, solidifying her status as a Patriot princess, was recording a lead-in for Infowars.com host Alex Jones. At that time he was on 98.9 FM, KJFK hosting "The Real Spin." Her lead-in was as follows, uttered in as menacing a voice as an 8 year old little girl can muster: "You're listening to Alex Jones and the Real Spin on 98.9, KJFK. It's for the children". The "children" comment is well known to Alex's listeners. I was never so proud.
From left to right, my youngest daughter Jessica, a murdering blood thirsty Branch Davidian (Sarcasm), and Charon
We moved away from Texas and settled in Crossville, Tennessee. Her teen years had begun along with her slow, methodical breaking of my heart. The first wound came during her 8th grade year. About once a week or so I would visit her and her sister during school lunch. Her younger sister had ate first so about the time I'd be finishing lunch with her, Charon would be arriving. During one of these visits, as I headed to Charon's table, I saw a look on her face I will never forget. It was the, "Please Dad don't come over here because you'll embarrass me in front of my really cool new friends" look. Sigh. Compliantly I stopped and summoned up the best smile I could and then left, concsiously realizing our relationship would never be the same.
The second wound was a boy. Charon had always been practical when it came to her hair. As a result, she almost always had it up in a pony tail. She was getting older though, that age where girls start getting openly judgemental about appearance, so I encouraged her to leave her hair down and complimented her on how pretty it looked. No dice. We're talking about a Patriot princess here and she wasn't about to listen to "the man". However, a month or so later, I noticed she was starting to wear her hair down as I had encouraged her to do. Pleased with my "success" I complimented her only to notice the strangest look on her face. It took me only a few seconds to realize my error. She had recently become interested in a boy and apparently he liked seeing her hair down too. She wasn't about to listen to "the man" but was more than willing to listen to "the boy". Sigh. Once again, I summoned the best smile I could and left it at that.
When she was 15 I began to teach her to drive. I'm the son of a truck driver and also hold a private pilot's license so lets just say I was a demanding taskmaster when it came to my version of driver's ed. I always pushed her to do more than she thought she could. This including "tricking" her to get on the interstate in spite of her protests. After getting her license at 16, she found the independence she gained to be irresistable. She found every excuse she could to drive. Resistance to change. Then embracing that change.
Next was a job. I've literally had some sort of job since 4th grade so when she reached high school I really started to hammer her about getting one for herself. It all came to a head one Friday when I gave her a really good ass chewing, after which she went and applied at Little Caesar's Pizza. I was starting to question myself as to whether I had been too hard on her when she called me on the phone. Bursting with excitement she explained how she had been offered a position immediately. After she filled me in on all the details she ended the conversation with this: "Dad. I'm really glad you got on me about this." Resistance to change, then embracing it. I can admit it. I nearly cried.
Now, there's college. For years she's said she wants to be an Optometrist. So, earlier this year she enrolled at East Tennessee State University. The campus is nestled in the Smoky Mountains in Johnson City, Tennessee, a drive time of nearly 4 hours from my home. Recently, I attended Freshman Orientation with her on campus. She didn't know it then but will learn it when she reads this: I was nearly overcome with emotion when I heard one of the staff say out loud that she was "Pre-Med". I just can't put into words the pride I felt. The same little girl who couldn't ride a metal bouncy horse at Dairy Queen without balling her eyes out just a few years ago is now on a Pre-Med track at ETSU. She's definately come a long way.
That brings me to the point of this entry. College, especially one 4 hours from home has meant change for Charon and lots of it. True to form she is resisting it. So I have this to say to her:
Charon, I wrote this story so you could see how proud I am of you and how much I believe in you. I also wanted to point out to you in the most positive way I know how that although you are initially resisting this change, your history has shown that you will soon embrace it. When you finally do I believe you will succeed on a level that right now at least, you can't possibly imagine. I read a quote the other day that applies here. "I can't promise you it will be easy but I can promise you it will be worth it".
I love you Princess.
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