The origin of the name punk daddy begins in 1992.
I was a 14 year old kid who loved to act and was acting in my first High School play. I was very insecure this particular year and there were some girls I liked who were making fun of me. Playful fun but I told them, “well you know what they say about black guys, right?” For those that don’t know, “they” say black guys are well endowed. From there I gained the nickname, Big Don. “Don” is PD’s real first name.
In my junior year, I played the role of Daddy in a play, was way more secure in myself, and those same girls changed my nickname to Big Daddy. When I went to college I joined a web chat as Big Daddy. However, I was very precocious as gained a nickname – Punk Daddy – from the older folks who thought I was just a kid who should go back to school and not talk to them about matters of the day.
I like Big Don, Big Daddy, but I liked Punk Daddy the most because I felt like most people in my world wouldn’t associate me with that name. And I like being different. So when I joined NS back in 2004, I had been using Punk Daddy for years and it became my first nation name.
This post isn’t really about my name but about punk daddy’s daddy. He passed away on August 21st. I’d venture to guess that both Darkesia and Eli are aware as they are my friends on Facebook. It was a pulmonary embolism that took him out. From the moment he woke my stepmom to tell her he was having trouble breathing to the moment he died was about 40-45 minutes. I did some reading on massive embolisms and they strike suddenly and they are not easy to treat once symptoms start showing.
In the days prior to my dad passing away I had texted him this “I want you to live to see that day” regarding seeing me, his son, reach a particular level of financial success he and my mom had tried to attain (and failed) back in the early 90s. He didn’t respond to that text which wasn’t unusual, so don’t read too much into that. My last text to him was “TGIF!”, it’s funny that’s the last message I sent to my father.
He was my best friend. He could tell me things others couldn’t. As the oldest son, I took on the responsibility of writing his obituary. It was not easy but I knew that I had to do it. The final result was something I’m sure he would have enjoyed.
I’ve also had bad job news and my oldest son is also having some health issues. It’s been a trying time. But my head is still up and I wanted to share with you all where I was.