First of all I'd like to apologize to those who have been waaaiting for this entry. It's been awhile I know. The first and foremost issue being the health of my grandmother (My father's mother). So for the time being I wanted to not have her get too anxious, excited, or stressed about digging up my father's contact information. Which which is kinda sad in some regards because I doubt he contacts her as much as he should.

So in regards to this special post, which will probably, most definitely, be broken up into parts in between my usual blogs, I'd guess I'd go into my psychology of this search, which I'm pretty darn sure will not take too long. Only as long as we hold off in not taking steps to reconnect.

My father, Clinton A. Jackson III. Unlike alot of kids, teenagers, full grown adults, my situation with my father somewhat deviated from the normal "My father was never there" stereotype. On the contrary, my father was there until my parents were divorced. At the time we were living in bmore city..east side Chase and Biddle street. Yea its hood now...but it was a different type of hood back then. When you're young, you know that an area isn't safe, but you're also oblivious sometimes totally ignorant to any type of hardships. This is a good sign of parenting at times.

My brother was a baby, barely able to walk, and I was in my very early years of elementary school. As a testament to the good I did see in him, I learned a good portion of what a man means to his family, how he should treat his wife and bringing home the bread. The presence of a father to his family is one of the most crucial things kids can have. Not just for disciplinary purposes, but for observation purposes. One of the greatest memories I have of my mom and dad together, was 1) during valentines day my dad putting some old records on, after bringing home some great gifts and later on me spying on them dancing. Christmas was also a good time as well. Not to say that there weren't any good times in between, but those two are just memorable.

Extended family wise, as you may be able to tell by our naming conventions (Clinton A Jackson I, II, III, and IV) there's a major level of pride when it comes to the Jackson name. With this pride of the family being centered around the Jackson name. Ironically though it has been the women who have really kept things going. From my Grandmother Ms. Annie Mae, to my aunts Cindy and Bernice, to my mother. They've all been there. My mom as well has been a tried and true testament of really sticking it out in a relationship. Immersing herself in family matters on both her side and his, sticking by him, while not putting up with b.s. and supporting her man till the end. Once again another lesson that I've learned from a young age that still resonates to this day, something that every person should strive for in a relationship.

In the end the story i guess may be something made for books, or T.V. I saw the decline of a strong military man, loving husband, and a great dad, to a man seemingly depressed or disgraced. First from alcohol and most likely drugs off and on, to disappearance after the divorce, and ultimately a figure of disappointment to me. I have no anger directed towards him, but just disappointment. Because I know if any of my stock comes from that man, and from the men before him I've heard stories about? (Clinton the 2nd and 1st?) he was a strong man that represented the family well.

In the next installment of "The Prodigal Father" I'll be sharing the few interactions that I've had with him post-divorce, my reasoning's behind reconnecting, and possibly chance encounter which I ignored, and finally contacting my grandmother in regards to getting his info.

I'll also be inserting some pictures of him soon, once I'm able to scan and upload them. The looks run in the fam:)