The Fatherless Father - Reco Inc. McDaniel

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catch a 1:15 p.m. flight back to Atlanta, Georgia. This is me on a muggy July day in Florida. I’m blowing past security, dodging my way around other wayward passengers, trying to make that flight. Yes—suit, tie, and all. My heart’s racing as my mind is replaying the highlights of my life-changing weekend I just experienced at the National Speakers Association National Convention. Suddenly, between hearing “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars over the airport’s loudspeaker for what seems to be the tenth time on this trip, I hear an automated voice say, “The tram is now departing.” I quickly make a promise to myself that it will not be leaving without me—I’ve got to get home.

      I manage to squeeze through the 12-inch opening in the tram doors as they quickly shut behind me. The other passengers in the tram car briefly look my way, mainly to make sure I made it on in one piece, because they have been in my position before—running through the airport as if it’s a scene from Home Alone. I look down at my watch and see that it is 1:00 p.m. I begin to have a minor panic attack because my flight will depart soon. Fifteen minutes and counting. I think, How did I let time get away from me so badly that I’m rushing through the airport? I can’t do this again—this is crazy. I begin racing down the escalator at full speed, like a running back going in for the game-winning touchdown, brushing past families, businessmen, and everyone in between, quickly apologizing for all the commotion. But again, they don’t look too irritated because it seems they can empathize with my situation. At this point, there is only one thing on my mind: my son. I cannot miss this flight. I will not break my promise. I will be at his football game tonight, and I will give him our ritual pre-game pep talk.

      I look up at the terminal clock, and it says 1:07 p.m. I’m sweating profusely from all the running, and the perspiration begins to drip down my face. The suit I have on doesn’t make it any better, but it was a necessity for the conference. I can still hear my mother’s voice telling me to “always look my best.” This, however, happens to be one of those times that I wish I had on a comfortable t-shirt with some basketball shorts and running shoes.

      Finally, I look up and see I’m at Terminal B. I just need to run past 10 gates, and I’m on the next flight to see my boy. I grin with thoughts of witnessing his smile light up when he sees me and keep it as I move through the airport. Through the blur of faces, baby cries, and endless food vendors creeps Gate 85. I slow down with a sigh of relief and thank God that I’ve made it before they closed the cabin doors. I don’t know what I would have done if I ran all this way just to see the door close in my face. “Well, you just made it with 4 minutes to spare! Hurry on now, ya hear,” shouts a sweet old southern accent from the check-in counter. As I approach the boarding door, I am met with reassuring brown eyes and a smile by the woman collecting the tickets. It’s as though she can feel how hard I worked to get to the gate. “It’s alright now, you’ve made it,” she quietly tells me. I catch my breath, quickly hand over my ticket, and rush on the plane with my heart pounding and sweat dripping all over, yet grinning ear to ear because I’m ready to see my son.

      I take my seat, ready for the plane to take off as soon as possible. Suddenly, the flight attendant appears.

      “Would you like a cold bottle of water, sir?” she says.

      “How could you tell? Am I sweating that much?” I reply with a smile on my face.

      “Yes, sir. We don’t usually pass out drinks before the plane takes off, but I think we can make an exception for you. You seem like you need it,” she says, nods, and kindly walks away.

      I smirk and gratefully take the bottle of water. I’m sure people around me are a little jealous at the special treatment I just received, but I ignore it. Seeing my son’s face will make this entire adventure worth it.

      As I get comfortable in my snug airplane seat, my adrenaline is still rushing through my veins. I figured that because I’ll have downtime for the next hour, I will download all of the excitement of the last few days. During that time, I met some of the most successful speakers, authors, and motivators from around the world.

      There were men and women representing various ethnic, religious, and culture backgrounds from San Diego, California to London, England and New York, New York to San Juan, Puerto Rico. Everyone was out in full force, allowing themselves to learn from other successful motivators while appreciating the moment—rubbing elbows with the world’s greats was exciting for everyone in attendance.

      In the midst of all the successful individuals, I stopped and realized how blessed I was to have reached such high peaks of success at my early age—I have much more than I could have ever dreamed of as a kid. When I was a child growing up in the 1980s, I stood around wondering where my father was while admiring my mother’s hard work from afar. I struggled with feelings of inadequacy, hoping that, one day, I would be able to take a life that started in the projects and do something amazing and influential with it.

      And here I was.

      I became a multi-million dollar producing entrepreneur within the network marketing industry in my mid-20s, having addressed tens of thousands across the country through motivation and training. In addition to this, I’ve received numerous awards and recognition. I’ve built a gratifying lifestyle, one where I don’t have to worry about my lights being turned off or not having enough gas in my car to get me to a destination. I’ve surrounded myself with mentally strong and hardworking people, and we feed off of each other’s good vibes and push each other to work harder, faster, and more efficiently. I’ve had the opportunity to travel the world: I’ve marveled at the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil in one moment and visited Buckingham Palace and Big Ben in London in the next. I was blessed to meet the woman of my dreams, Shanee’, and have her accept me as her husband—one of the greatest gifts any person could have ever given me. Additionally, I have two amazing children who are everything I could have ever dreamed them to be, who make me laugh until my sides hurt, and who also remind me how much of an influence I have in their lives as their father. Last, but certainly not least, I have God, who has brought me through so many trials and tribulations. It’s hard not to think of Psalm 34:4, which says, “I sought the LORD, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.”

      And yet, despite all these wonderful things, I know my purpose is greater. I know there is more work for me to do.

      “God has been so good to me,” I quietly mumble to myself with a smile.

      As I continue to reflect on my life, I hear a young child behind me begin to speak.

      “Mommy, how come I never see my dad?” I hear the little boy ask his mother.

      This innocent question completely diminishes all thoughts in my head, and I begin to listen intently for the response. As I wait for the answer, I hear a painfully familiar pause of silence as the mother wraps her arms around her son and explains, “It’s me, you, and God, and we are incredibly blessed, don’t you think?”

      I can tell he has dropped his head as he solemnly replies, “Yes mommy, we are blessed.”

      At this moment, my heart pains for this young boy, and I am struck with a series of emotions, as if I am that boy again; bitterness, sadness, emptiness, and jealousy quickly begin to sneak into my heart. These old emotions I thought I had put to rest rear their ugly heads, reminding me that I never quite got over my experiences as a child. I think about the fact that I never had a father growing up and how that shaped me to be the man I am today, whether those moments were good, bad, or ugly. However, I begin to think about the countless conversations I had with my own mother, and I smile. I feel joy in my heart in that moment, realizing how amazing that woman was—simply recalling how through it all, she was my saving grace.

      While the mother and son behind me are having a bonding moment, I realize how strong my own mother was and how much I loved and appreciated her for raising me the way she did. I think about how much I love God for providing me with such a close-knit family, even though my biological

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