Meet My Daughter

"Since the beginning, I have thrown myself under the bus.  I began J.J. with a short series called “My Life.” That created a time-line.  Many parts from during that time went unmentioned.  For various reasons.  I had no idea the direction Jailbird would take.

Let’s go back.  Way back.  Some of you may know more about me than others.  I’m gonna fill in some blanks.  …Like the fact that I have a wonderful 14-year-old daughter.

I was 16 years old.  My parents dragged me to church every Sunday.  Only one thing made this bearable: A beautiful young lady who attended my youth group.

We began dating and, at the age of 17, learned we were going to be parents.  Being kids ourselves, we had no idea what we would face.  It didn’t help matters when I cheated on my daughter’s mother.  That for sure made it all around our little town.  Just having a baby at 17 was news enough in a place like that – add to that, I’m now a cheater.  I fucked it all up.  And I’ve said sorry a hundred times.  It doesn’t help, but I learned a lesson.

After a little over a year of me being a royal pain in the ass, my [now] ex-girlfriend and I sat down.  It was time to decide what we would do.  We both loved our little girl.  Yet we were also kids.  We made the hardest decision of our lives way back then, many years ago.  We decided to give our little girl up for adoption.  We chose the parents, and the day we met them in that courthouse to sign the papers… me and my high-school sweetheart signed our lives away.

That is the day I broke.  I walked out of that courthouse, packed my car, and in two days was in Florida.

I began to run that day.  Been running ever since.  Ran so long and so hard, I forgot what I was running from.  I was running from failure, and drugs became my numbing agent.  I became a slave to them.

Nearly four years ago, I came to prison.  Many years had passed and I hadn’t seen or contacted my daughter.

During my stay here in DOC (department of corrections), my daughter came looking for me.  Bless her heart!  She found one broken-ass, angry man.  Not a man to be proud of.  Not a man to call Dad.  No, not much of a man at all.

Now…you read my blog.  You have read about the old me, and you have come on a journey with me.  You see where I am in my heart today.  Thing is… my daughter had the biggest part to play in the best changes in me, and until now I have kept her off the pages of J.J.

Ester wrote today and suggested that I write about my baby.  There was no hesitation.  She’s half me.  She’s the only thing, to this day, that Mike Smith didn’t fuck up.  She holds my heart and she is the very best of me.  If you have kids then you know what I’m trying to say.  She is perfect.

I see myself in her eyes.  Her eyes are blue.  So blue they penetrate you.  She writes me.  She calls me her birth-father, she calls me Michael.  But when that 14-year-old girl writes Michael, I hear a thousand angels singing my name.

If this blog wasn’t personal enough already, it is now.  This is my kid.  My baby.  My heart and soul.

My daughter is an artist and we draw pictures for each other.  She asks me to show her new techniques.  Different styles.  She’s the best.

I don’t care if she ever calls me Dad.  She knows who I am, and she knows I love her.

Going back to that day allowed me to be healed.  I just hope having me back in her life can heal a little part of her as well.  I’m sure it will… she came and found me. 

My baby will be 20 years old when I am free.  She will be a woman.  In some ways, I am missing her growing up.  In other ways, she is right here with me.  I was given a second chance.  A second chance to do it right this time.  Baby, your birth-father loves you.  God, you make me laugh.  You keep your chin up, little lady.  I’ll be home before you know it.  Hey – you owe me a letter!"