What started out as the best day of my life yesterday quickly ended as what I would easily call the worst day of my life…
When I was a little girl, I was incredibly independent. I did not play with dolls much, I did not want to wear dresses, I did not spend much time with my Mother, I did not want to grow up and have babies and I never dreamt of my wedding day. I had one thing, the only thing I really ever cared about – my Dad.
Deep down, he is an amazing person with a HUGE heart. He has such potential. He is one of the smartest people I know. When I was a kid he literally forced me to do well in school. He would read me the dictionary every night before bed. When I had a paper due, he would rip up my work and make me do it over and over again. At the time, I thought he was mean. In retrospect, he made me who I am and who I am is GREAT.
Every other night we would go jogging together. He always took me shopping and told me everything. He was honest with me and treated me like an adult. He trusted me when every one else thought I was a liar. He embraced my individuality rather than shun me for being “weird”. He was my hero, my life.
However, he had his own issues. He was suffering inside for years. His childhood was a nightmare…
To give some quick examples, he was molested by priests and his father’s friends; he was moved from town to town, city to city, state to state – never able to establish any real roots. His Father had rage issues and would fly off the handle and beat him and his brothers and his Mother on a daily basis. His Mother worked really hard to raise 4 boys, work 2 jobs and create some semblance a life for them. She finally had saved up enough money to take the children away from him and move out on her own. When that happened he needed to quit school and stay home to care for his 3 younger brothers while his Mother worked.
As he grew older, he finally met a wonderful woman named Jenny. He fell deeply in love with her and they planned to marry. He was so happy to finally have some roots and excited to start a family. One week before the wedding, she died in a car crash driving to the market to pick up a last minute item for a dinner she was cooking for him.
His world crumbled. Her family buried her in her wedding gown, which only made things worse for him. Since the death of Jenny, he has never been the same.
Years and much drug use later, he joined the Marines and wound up in ..Hawaii where he met my Mother who was a cocktail waitress on the Marine base in Kaneohe Bay. I was 2 years old when they married. Obviously, he is my Step-Father but since he was there since I was a baby, I called him Daddy. He was the only Father I have ever known.
We stayed in Hawaii for awhile and then eventually moved back to New York City. I could always tell he wasn’t happy living in New York. He hated cold weather, the hustle, the crowds, the dirty streets. Although he hated it he made the best of it and created a career in Real Estate for himself, a lucrative career.
After 10 years of living in New York, his love for me and love for himself were just not enough. He turned back to drugs – HARDCORE. We wound up addicted to Crack/Cocaine, 120 lbs, lost his job, blew my college fund, and there was an “incident” concerning me where he molested me. I was 11 years old.
One Saturday morning before Christmas, I woke up at my normal 7AM to make him coffee and get ready for the day and he wasn’t there. He had left. I found my Mother crying at the edge of the bed and being that I was so young and so enamored with him, I didn’t understand her pain. I instantly resented her and blamed her for his leaving.
When he left I was in the 7th grade. I failed out of Catholic school (which was big for me because my grades were always so great) and basically went on a downward spiral. Years and years of doing badly in school, doing drugs, drinking and staying out all night, set the stage for what my life would become. I just didn’t want to live I guess. When you are a kid things hurt more and your lack of understanding only makes you blame yourself. What did I do? Why did he leave me? I must be a terrible person…
I continued to treat myself like garbage well into my teenage years. My relationship with my Mother steadily declined. I never listened to her, I just didn’t care. My dreams went down the drain…
There were 2 things I’ve always wanted in my life. I wanted to be a writer and I wanted to be a Brain Surgeon. When little girls dream about their wedding day, I was dreaming about cutting into people’s brains and writing novels about it. Granted, I had a lot of wild dreams when I was a kid – but these two were always a constant.
Because my Mother and I were not getting along (my fault), I needed to quit school and get a job so I could move out. At 15, I left school and got a job in the city. At 16, I moved out.
I worked in the city for years until I decided that I wanted to go back to college. I entered a contest when I was 18 years old to win a college scholarship. I wrote a short story, which won first place. The prize was a scholarship to Pepperdine University in Malibu, California! Talk about a dream! Pepperdine was a great school, in a beautiful place and I decided I would study pre-med. I was so happy.
I quit my job and started to get ready for college. Needless to say, I should have waited to leave my job – but I was young and foolish. The scholarship had some limitations… I had to pay for my own room and board, which I could not afford and neither could my family. I had screwed up my credit at the mere age of 18 and could not obtain a loan. Another part of this is that the man my Mother was married to before my Father is listed on my Birth Cert was my natural Father. I also have his last name. This man, Ronnie is quite well off. When I applied for Financial Aid, they used his income and I was not eligible. I had to turn down the opportunity and go back to work. I was crestfallen. Also, at that time – my Father was doing particularly bad. He was homeless and on death’s door. I did nothing but cry.
Dreams broken, spirit gone – I went back to work and made the best of my situation. I excelled at my career in Information Technology and by the time I was 23 I was a VP of a national Marketing firm in NYC. I had a corner office and a 6 figure salary. Although I had all of this, this wasn’t the life I wanted… I always mourned for what I really wanted, but was too afraid to do.
Getting to my point… I have always pushed my own needs aside for the needs of others. I have always sat on my dreams because I was afraid. I have always pushed myself down rather bring myself up. I have to stop that.
Yesterday, I called my Grandmother to say hello. She shared with me some very bad news… My Father is homeless, out on the streets, 150 lbs, smoked his entire business, life, and sanity away again.
After all of these years of me finding him in the streets of Miami, in the worst neighborhoods imaginable – after always forgiving him and helping him to be himself again, to be the person I know he can be – I’ve just lost my faith. My hero has fallen. My heart is broken.
He is now 50 years old. I do not think that his body can handle this anymore. I fear that this time will be the last and not because he quits, but because his body will “quit”. I just know that he is not going to make it.
I can’t even be angry anymore…
Isn’t it amazing the way history repeats itself? It’s like a test of wills. Every time I try to do something for me, he always pulls me down. I am 31 years old and I can’t let him do that to me.
The question is – How do I ignore the fact that he is homeless and practically dying and focus my energy on me? How can I forget that without him I wouldn’t be who I am, or WHERE I AM…
How could I just let him fucking die?
I know I have to be strong and I have to follow my dreams, even in the face of extreme hardship… However, all I wanted yesterday was to tell him about how happy I was and hear that he was proud of me and himself. I was not expecting to hear that he was “on the way out”
So, I started the day with my heart in the clouds and ended the day with it broken. Talk about extremes.
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