Dad

Monday January 5

Life is such a fragile thing you know? It's still crazy to me that Stuart Scott passed away yesterday. He was such an influential part of the sporting world. Even I, who only catches SportsCenter every now and again knew who he was. What I didn't know was that he fought with cancer for seven long years. And that he was only 49. I couldn't even imagine the strength and courage it took to go to work everyday and live each day to its fullest with that kind of struggle going on. I have so much respect for that man and for people who are fighters like that. That is the kind of man I am aspiring to be, someone who is strong, courageous, and a role model to all. I truly think it's important to take a moment and think about all the things that really matter each day.

I woke up this morning to an unexpected surprise. My aunt from my father's side of the family sent me a late Christmas gift. I met her for the first time over the summer so this was a huge surprise, there's a lot of history as to why I haven't communicated or kept in touch with my dad's side of the family until now. I'll expand on that later. Anyway, I opened the gift and it was season seven of The Big Bang Theory...... I HATE The Big Bang Theory. Or so I thought. I have it playing on my television in the background as I write this and I literally just had to pause it because I'm laughing at their jokes and enjoying it. It's so cool how something I thought I disliked actually turned out to be something I could enjoy. It's like when you're younger and as you get older your taste buds change. Growth and all that jazz....... And now Chicago is playing in my head in a loop of All That Jazz and Cell Block Tango. Good Lord. 

I went to the mall with a good friend of mine today for boots and walked out at least $120 poorer and with more shirts and underwear then the one pair of boots I did buy.  It was alright though because this particular friend of mine is the one I know I can go to when I want a really good shit talking session. If you don't have one of those, get one! It's honestly therapeutic. Shit talking is one of the best pastimes you can have in my honest opinion because then when you see the person you shit talk about, it makes it a lot easier to be cordial to their face. 

Now the part I know you've been waiting for, my familial drama. My "daddy problems," if you will. Where to begin, well, let's begin at my birth. (All of this comes from my mother who I absolutely trust completely, so I know 100% it's the truth) My father was not there when I was born. In fact, I wasn't even planned. When my mom was 16 she met my dad who was 23. According to her, he saw her across the dance floor at whatever club they were at. He approached her and they started dating for three years. At the time of my conception, they were still together but apparently broke up right after she found out about me. Back to my birth, it wasn't until I was one that my father decided to be my father. Keep in mind, he already had my three older brothers with another woman. And then poof, he disappeared out of my life just as quickly as he reappeared into it. Fast-forward about 6 or 7 years, (I'm not completely sure, I have memory problems when it comes to this time in my life, so I'll recount what I know and what I remember.) he wanted to be back in my life. By this point, my mom was married to who is now her ex-husband, my stepfather, and the father of my three younger siblings. All those years, I thought he was my dad. Nobody ever told me otherwise. So, when I found out about my biological dad, I had to meet him, I think I knew even back then deep down that my stepfather wasn't my dad. I think I knew something was off. So I met my dad for the first time, and things between my stepdad and I were never the same. We would go on to get into screaming matches and fist fights, and just constant bickering well into my teenage years. It was only recently that we both finally petered out and accepted one another. But back to my dad. During the week, I would live with my mom and then on weekends my dad would take me and I would stay with him. This is where things get foggy. During my stay with my dad I met my three older brothers who would also stay on the weekends and my younger brother who lived with my dad full-time. I also met my father's wife. She didn't take a keen liking to any of us older boys, and I remember she would sit on the couch all day, miserable. And then... nothing. I can remember anything and when I try I get these super intense headaches. I think the whole thing traumatized me, being so young and impressionable, and I hope that's all it is, because somewhere deep down I fear that something much more serious happened to me and I just don't know. It makes me want to see a hypnotist and have them recover my lost memories. The weekend visits stopped one day, and I found out a couple of months ago that my mom was the cause behind the visits ceasing. She told me that I used to say that my father's wife was mean to me. I'm terrified to ask her if I said anything else during that time, because if something really bad did happen, I'd rather not remember it. It just scares me. My older brothers continued to visit with my father, and now I work with one of them at Target and he told me that my father told him and my other brothers that I didn't come around anymore because I moved to Florida. Which never happened. Eventually he stopped picking them up on the weekends as well. They all share a deep dislike for him and an even deeper dislike for my father's wife. I don't know how I feel, I used to feel angry, but now I don't feel anything towards the subject, it's like I've been numbed. Unfortunately my brothers and I lost contact and I didn't see them again until I was 18 when my brother was hospitalized for an overdose and we still remained out of contact after that. Now, working with one of my older brothers is the first time I have spoken with and felt connected to them in almost a decade and a half. I saw my father at a basketball game in my senior year of high school and he made me meet all of his friends and was bragging about how I was going to college. I saw him again that summer at an amusement park with his wife, my little brother, and my sister who was born after my father and I parted ways. I remember feeling heartbroken when walking away I could hear the sister that I never met ask "Daddy, who is that?" And now fast-forward again 2 more years. I was 20, when I got the Facebook message that my father was really sick and could possibly die. It was from my younger brother, the one who lives with him. My father was put in a life vest that would shock him back to life if his heart stopped. He began texting me and messaging me on Facebook, and we started talking regularly as any father and son would. I think he realized how much of an ass he had been my whole life, and I decided to forgive him. I let go of all the anger, the resentment, and I forgave him. Our relationship now is healthier then it has ever been. My older brothers are another story, they have zero contact with him. Which brings me to the aunt who sent me the Christmas gift. Over the summer, I met that entire side of the family for what was pretty much the first time, including my grandmother who teared up when she saw me, and told me that she looks at an old picture of me from when I was a boy every day. It was so crazy that all of these people knew me but I didn't know them. Here I am a grown damn man meeting his family for the first time. It's indescribable. 

I think I'm gonna leave it there for today. I'm sorry if it looks like I'm all over the place, which is probably because I kind of am all over the place today. It just feels so weird to have all of that out in the open, but I do this in the hopes that not only people understand me better but that people take something away from reading these entries. And of course for the shock value ;) kidding, kidding.