Memories and lessons learned

I think about my dad often. Due to the time of year, I have been thinking of him more... and a lot of lessons have come to the surface... and memories.
Beth and I had a favorite song that we liked to dance to when we were little. We would tell Daddy... "play Beethoven, play Beethoven", he would laugh and pull out a record, placing the needle on the record, we would soon hear Beethoven's 5th Symphony... and we would giggle and tell him, "no, not that one... the other one", and again, he would laugh and put on Electric Light Orchestra's version of "Rollover Beethoven". Beth and I would go crazy... and start dancing around the living room... being silly... little girls. Just exactly what we were supposed to be. I had a friend last year find that song for me... I hadn't really heard it since I was that little girl. Last night, Emma and I were listening to music on my Media Player. Emma, of course, was rocking out in the living room... being silly... modern version of Beth and me. Rollover Beethoven came on... and I closed my eyes... memories flooding over me... remembering how it felt to be in that living room all those years ago dancing with my little sister, staring up at the light and twirling around in circles until we were dizzy... falling down, laughing and getting up to do it again. They were moments of true joy, love, and happiness. I watched Emma with the broom stick as her guitar... and instinctively, she knew the exact moments to turn it into a microphone as she sang along with the song. She wanted to keep listening to it... we played it over and over again, just as Beth and I did... so long ago. I felt true joy, love, and happiness watching her, entertaining the two of us... I wonder, did my parents feel that as well, when they watched us... dancing and laughing? Honestly, it is one of the few memories that I can hold on to in my heart.
I lost what it felt like to just be a little girl... to just be me; not to have any worries or fears. My dad's perception of the world was certainly never rosy. It was brutal and honest, pulled no punches, to him it was harsh and unfeeling. I understand the reasons for this. He had a very hard life and did everything he could to survive. He taught me to be very independent... anything I needed in this life... I could do it myself... and should do it myself. He wanted me to rely on myself, no one else, not even him. Here's the thing: there is only a very small truth in this lesson. Yes, you should be able to take care of yourself on a day to day basis... but you also need people in your life... and you need to let them inside your soul. It is those that you love and love you that make the difference.
I have spent most of my life keeping everyone at bay... close, but not too close, safe. The times that I have needed help, well, my back was literally in the corner before I would ask for it... and then, it was still so hard, like I was less than for needing it. I hated that feeling. As I was taught, I don't need anything... from anyone. Well, let me just say... I do, just as much as I am needed. It is okay... that I have needs, actually, it is great. In order for me to love with all of my heart and soul, I need to be able to let that love in, just as much as I send it out. Dad, I apologize... I don't want to just survive... I want to live... love... learn, and if I fall flat on my face... you taught me how to get back up, and I have all the love in the world to help me. I am learning to listen to my instincts... listen to my heart... I know where I belong... and I am on my way... just a matter of time... another harsh lesson... we are not promised any one day... so I make the best of every one of them... and every chance I get... I send my love...