I HAD FIGURED OUT the house décor and kept things running, but the biggest everyday issue with me was actually raising the girls. I don’t mean getting them through the dark days of losing their mother, I mean actually raising them. I’m a guy and I’m every bit of a guy. I like sports. I like to have a couple of pops now and then. I’m competitive and protective and all of that testosterone-driven stuff.
I know nothing about ‘girl’ issues. The girls were ten and seven when Gina passed and there was a whole lot more ahead of us than behind us. I was scared as hell that not only did I not know about things like bras and makeup and boys, I was scared I wouldn’t be able to give them all they were going to need emotionally. Luckily Nona was still around. Not only was she like family to us, she was a very feminine lady so that helped when it came to some of those things. Some things like fashion and hair the girls figured out on their own. I think like every normal kid these days, school, media, and their girlfriends played the major roles in that, though not right away. The first year I had to dress the girls for their school pictures was one for the ages. I always laugh and say that anyone who saw those two walking down the street knew a single Dad dressed them. Things didn’t match or they matched too much. There were days I dressed them so much in one color they might have been mistaken for two of the four Fruit Of The Loom guys walking down the street.
Shopping for clothes was always quite an experience and that never changed throughout the years. You want to have some fun? Wait until you have to learn women’s sizes. As guys we have two things – Men’s and Boys. Not them. They have Juniors, Misses, Petite, etc. Then there’s a million styles, a million stores, a million accessories. Plus the shoes! I can’t tell you how many times I was awkwardly the only guy in the women’s section at Kohl’s or in some boutique, waiting for the girls to try on clothes to come out and show me. That wasn’t ever a problem until Amber turned about fourteen or fifteen. At that point, it became more of a struggle getting her to try things on and show me in the store. It was a huge pain in the ass and became a fight every time we walked into a store, but as I’ve come to find out that’s pretty normal, which makes me feel better. Not that we fought, but that every parent has that fight, so that must mean I was doing things normally.
This went on for a few years, but Amber seemed to mature quickly so she took on that role of ‘mother’ with Jackie. By the time she was twelve, she was pretty much dressing herself and helping shape Jackie with her style. Amber started wearing make up at about eleven or twelve years old and I saw no problem with that. It wasn’t a lot, it wasn’t as if she was wearing smoky eyes or lip liner. She didn’t look like a hooker or anything, but she put on some light eye shadow and lip-gloss. Hell, I didn’t know what the appropriate age was for that. Looking back, I should have put the skids on that until about thirteen or fourteen, but what the hell did I know?
That’s another area where I wish my mom and sister would have stepped in to help, but they didn’t and it was my fault for not asking. About the time Amber was fifteen she started going shopping with her girlfriends and their moms. That was fine with me and I have come to find out that’s pretty normal as well, so again, chalk one up for old Tommy.
Bras. Never a dirty word for a guy until you have to buy one for your daughter. Let me tell you, they look a lot different when you’re eyeballing them on the breasts of a woman versus seeing them on a clothing rack in a store and buying them for your daughter. The girls and I had pretty good communication so they told me when they needed their first one. I had no idea not only when they needed them, but how to fit them. I spent my whole life trying to take them off, not put them on!
When that day came, I took Amber to the store (Jackie came with of course) and we bee-lined for a sales lady that would help us. I tried to find someone who looked like she would be the least awkward for me to talk to. Once I found one, I explained that my wife had passed away and the girls were going to need help buying a bra. She could not have been nicer and was incredibly helpful. My first inclination was to walk away and let her and Amber take care of business, but I didn’t. I hung close, listening to her every word so I could absorb the info and learn how it works. The girls were paying attention too, probably so they could come do this next time without me.
Haircuts were another escapade. At first the girls kept going to the same place Gina used to take them. The stylists there already knew the girls and how they did their hair, so there wasn’t much input needed from me. I would pick out a day every eight to ten weeks and we’d do a family trip to the salon. I’m bald. My head is Schick shaved so there was no work for me, but the girls used to love it. After a year or so, Amber wanted to try a new salon, so I let her. By that point, both girls were starting to figure out who they were and what they wanted to do with their appearance. I was pretty much just there to pay and make sure nobody walked out with pink hair.
Looking back, I loved those days of clothes shopping and hair cuts. It was girly stuff but I’m so glad I shared those experiences with them. Had Gina not passed, I honestly don’t think I would have ever done any of those things.
On the subject of girly things, I think it’s probably time we address the elephant in the room. Periods. Menstruation. Whatever you want to call it. Now I know this might sound odd, but I knew absolutely nothing about menstruation other than that they came around once a month and when they did, that meant your girlfriend (or wife) wasn’t pregnant. And of course, I knew to tread lightly with your woman when it DID come around. But seriously, I knew nothing about them. I did a little research before Amber got her first one because when I was freaking earlier about all the things that were going to fall on me after Gina passed, this was one of the things that scared the shit out of me. When I went for my own physical, I asked my doctor and he explained it a little. I also asked Nona, which was uncomfortable but necessary. What other woman could I to ask? As much as I love my mother and sister, it seemed like a line I didn’t want to cross with them unless I had to.
When Amber did get her first one at about eleven years old, she came and told me. I had already talked with Nona about it and she was the one who took her to the drug store to teach her what to buy and how to use it. All the explaining in the world wasn’t going to teach me either of those things. Have you ever looked down the women’s aisle at the store? As Jackie rose through the ranks of womanhood behind her sister, Amber took the reigns and guided her.
The girls’ physicals were something else altogether though. With the bras and periods and whatnot, there’s a level of disconnect you have even if in the midst of it. I mean I wasn’t in the room when the girls were putting on the bra or anything. But with physicals, as the parent of a minor you have to be in the room when they are being examined. It was awkward and uncomfortable going through that at first, but that’s part of the deal when you’re both Mom and Dad all rolled into one.