Before I continue on with further posts, I want to make it known that I love my father. Despite the relationship we had, or didn’t have when I was young and despite some of the hurtful things my siblings and I endured…I will always love my father. He isn’t my man of steel, and I don’t think of him as someone I admire but nevertheless…he’s my dad. I wish we lived closer so we could hang out or just sit and talk. I suppose one of us could just call each other once in a while but I despise talking on the phone so there isn’t much hope for that.
It’s very important to note that I don’t BLAME my father for the hurt he put me through at times. He was never a bad person. He simply lacked some fatherly skills, just as I lack some fatherly skills. I know he never intended to hurt his children, I can tell that in his voice as he talks into the machine while I’m being born. He wanted a great life for us, it just didn’t happen that way. At least, not the exact way he envisioned. Whether it was his own choices or others’, life happened the way it did. And that’s the point I’d like to make. LIFE JUST HAPPENS SOMETIMES!!! We have our plans, we have our goals, and we see a future for ourselves that is great and glorious. But sometimes it just doesn’t happen that way, life can be cruel. In our families’ case, the great and glorious future turned out to be stormy and rough. But we weathered those storms and we navigated the rough roads; and interestingly enough, my father’s children all seemed to turn out to be decent, respectable men and women; although we all probably have our own “daddy issues” that bother us from time to time. The harsh times made us all a little stronger and a little smarter. It took me a while to see it, but I was able to use my father's example and become a better man and a better father. My father indirectly taught me how to be a great man by providing me with a lifetime of mistakes...and for that I'm very grateful.
Today my father is a good man who I believe is still trying to find his niche in the world; but aren’t we all. I know he doesn’t like me writing about some of the things I experienced as a child. It isn’t easy to have your mistakes brought up and to hear how you made your child feel. I wouldn’t want to hear it or read it either. But it’s necessary for me to write these things because this was my life and these are the things that shaped me. My father wasn’t perfect nor should he have tried to be. He could have done more for us and for himself but unfortunately, life happened the way it did and we all endured some things that hopefully we can continue to learn from.
I’ve focused on father enough…now onto my mother!!!
Monday, March 1, 2010
Sunday, February 28, 2010
The Night My World Changed
Life is just too busy sometimes. I set out to do this blog so I can write some things and it's already been two weeks since I last wrote. There's never enough time in a day...
So here I sit tonight, listening to my writing music and my mind is again taken back to where I left off...writing about some things in my childhood that have had lasting effects. Well let me phrase it as my father did a couple weeks ago..."I'm lamenting over the past." I don't feel that's the right way to put it since I have let go of the anger and hurt that I once felt as a child. Well most of the hurt anyways...I still get choked up when I think about certain things; mostly my father. But one thing I know is that in order to move forward in life, one HAS TO learn from their past. This is my objective at the moment...to relive and learn from some of the experiences I've had. It isn't lamenting, it's a learning process for me and maybe some interesting reading for others. My father said that what I'm doing is like writing in a journal and that others shouldn't read it. But if my journal can help others then I say read till your hearts content because it's helping me as well.
The memory is such a powerful aspect of our minds. If my body started to fail and I lost all function, my memory is the one thing I'd ask the lord to help me keep. It can bring a great smile to a face, or it can bring buckets of tears. I cherish both. As I choose to look back on my life I hope these memories help me become a better person, a better husband, and a better father. I think the greatest failure of my life would be to fail my children where I was once failed, to hurt them when I was once the one being hurt.
So here I sit tonight, listening to my writing music and my mind is again taken back to where I left off...writing about some things in my childhood that have had lasting effects. Well let me phrase it as my father did a couple weeks ago..."I'm lamenting over the past." I don't feel that's the right way to put it since I have let go of the anger and hurt that I once felt as a child. Well most of the hurt anyways...I still get choked up when I think about certain things; mostly my father. But one thing I know is that in order to move forward in life, one HAS TO learn from their past. This is my objective at the moment...to relive and learn from some of the experiences I've had. It isn't lamenting, it's a learning process for me and maybe some interesting reading for others. My father said that what I'm doing is like writing in a journal and that others shouldn't read it. But if my journal can help others then I say read till your hearts content because it's helping me as well.The night my world changed was no different than any other. My father had been back in Michigan for a while and on this particular night I was visiting my grandmother's house so I could see and spend time with him. At this time he drove a cab during the night and slept during the day. So I suppose my time with him was spent sitting in the basement and watching him sleep; hoping he'd wake up so we could do something. Anyhow, the second story of my grandmother's home was basically an upstairs apartment. My Aunt Kathy lived there and usually when my sister and I visited, that's where we'd sleep. On this night, I stayed up late watching a movie and sometime after midnight I heard a car pull up to the house. I didn't think much about it at first but then I heard my grandmother's door open and close and I immediately got up to see who it was. As I looked out my aunt's window down to the street below I saw that the car was a cab. A sense of excitment flew over me because I knew it was my father. I knew he wasn't there to see me but still I couldn't help to feel excited. I realize now just how much I loved my father back then...just knowing that he was close brought me great joy. But this night would 
prove different. As I stood there at the window I remember trying not to make noise so I could hear what was going on downstairs. I heard some shuffling, doors opening and closing and then the door below me opened and closed. I watched my father walk to the cab and get in the passenger seat; unusual I thought since my father was supposed to be the one driving. The cab sat there for a second and then I watched as my father lit a cigarette lighter and then lite a joint. My world crashed that very second. I can still feel the shock that went through my body, it was like I had been struck by lightning. Even after the cab had driven off, I stood at that window like a statue...frozen in horror. I went through it so many times in my head, did I really see what I had just seen? Did he really do that? Could it have been something different? But even though I was young, I knew what smoking a joint looked like. I hadn't done it myself, but I knew what it looked like...and my father, my man of steel had just killed everything great thing I ever thought of him. It was just a joint, but what that joint represented was like a dagger to my young heart.
prove different. As I stood there at the window I remember trying not to make noise so I could hear what was going on downstairs. I heard some shuffling, doors opening and closing and then the door below me opened and closed. I watched my father walk to the cab and get in the passenger seat; unusual I thought since my father was supposed to be the one driving. The cab sat there for a second and then I watched as my father lit a cigarette lighter and then lite a joint. My world crashed that very second. I can still feel the shock that went through my body, it was like I had been struck by lightning. Even after the cab had driven off, I stood at that window like a statue...frozen in horror. I went through it so many times in my head, did I really see what I had just seen? Did he really do that? Could it have been something different? But even though I was young, I knew what smoking a joint looked like. I hadn't done it myself, but I knew what it looked like...and my father, my man of steel had just killed everything great thing I ever thought of him. It was just a joint, but what that joint represented was like a dagger to my young heart. In order to understand my reaction, you'd have to know that I loved my father SO DEEPLY when I was a kid. Despite him being out of my life for so many years and despite our relationship being so disappointing...I loved him dearly. I had him on such a high pedestal; one that he never deserved but nevertheless got because I was his son and sons are born to love their fathers. The longing that I had for him in the years that he was away, the need for his affection had blinded me to the point that I didn't see that he was nothing great. But the moment I saw him light and smoke that joint, my eyes were opened and my entire life changed. He was no longer my Superman and my attitude towards being a good kid changed. Up to that point, I was a decent kid who never had really done anything too bad. But after then I went on to do the things that I would have said no to before. It's amazing how one single moment, one single action can change a person forever. That moment led me down a road that has taken me so many years to get off of. I didn't become a drug addict or an alcoholic but my life after that was just a roller coaster of wrong choices. Choices that led down bumpy and difficult paths. This memory, this one single moment in my life is the one that i wish had never happened. As a child it damaged my psyche on so many levels. I can still see myself sitting on that couch with my mind racing, trying to process what had just happened. It was too much for me at that time. My world fell and I told no one.
What this memory helps me understand is just how much power a parent holds...especially a father. When a child comes into this world they have no one to rely on but their parents or whoever takes upon themselves the tasking of caring for that child. Those parents or guardians have immeasurable influence on what that child eventually becomes. One thing is very clear and its that "Actions ALWAYS speak louder than words." Parents are the greatest influence.
In the years since becoming a father, I have occasionally had a drink of alcohol and even resumed smoking during the summer of 2005. Which I might note only lasted about a month. But each time I had a drink of alcohol, even just a sip I remembered how seeing my father light that joint ruined my world at that time. Every time I took a drag of a cigarette I remember the shock that went through my body that night...and I just can't do that to my kids. I'm not perfect by any means and I still do stupid things sometimes but I would never, ever want my children to feel what I felt that night. People think I don't smoke or drink or go to a strip club because I go to church. But church or belief has nothing to do with it. It's because I remember standing at my aunt's window and feeling my heart break. And I never want my children to feel what I felt that night.
The memory is such a powerful aspect of our minds. If my body started to fail and I lost all function, my memory is the one thing I'd ask the lord to help me keep. It can bring a great smile to a face, or it can bring buckets of tears. I cherish both. As I choose to look back on my life I hope these memories help me become a better person, a better husband, and a better father. I think the greatest failure of my life would be to fail my children where I was once failed, to hurt them when I was once the one being hurt. Friday, February 19, 2010
Earliest Memories
As I"m on this long road to somewhere, I can't help but think about what has gotten me to where I am now. My memories are good and bad just like anyone else. But when I think of the experiences that have helped shape me, my thoughts always turn to my father.
This is a tape my father made while I was being born. My mother gave it to me years ago and I've tried to keep it safe ever since. I've listened to it only a few times; it isn't the easiest of listens. I was my father's first child and on the tape he wonders aloud what type of father he'd be, what type of child I'd be, and whether I'd be a boy or a girl. When I'm born my father laughs happily and says, "It's a boy!" I so wish that his initial enthusiasm for me would have lasted a lifetime.
My earliest memory is one that will always stick with me. I remember my father sitting on the couch at my grandmother's house. He is crying and so was I. I was just a little boy and I think he was leaving or something. My mother said it was time to go and we left. I cried and cried on the drive home, we may have even turned around so I could see him again but I'm not sure. After that I don't remember much about my father as a child. He moved away for several years and didn't return till I was maybe 11 or 12...it's all a blur. What I remember in those years that he was gone was that I loved my him TREMENDOUSLY even though he wasn't around, even though I only talked to him a few times a year. I would talk about him and how he was gonna come back or how I would be able to see him sometime. I hated when others would bad mouth him. I was so proud of a father that wasn't there. It was like loving a ghost.
The day he came back my sister and I went to my grandma's, as we did fairly often. This time was different though. She got us early in the morning and when we got to her house, everyone was standing around with smiles on their faces. As we stood in her living room, my father jumped out from the back rooms and surprised us. That was the absolute happiest moment of my life up to that point. Having my father actually there with me was the best feeling ever. I got to stay at my grandma's a couple days and spend time with the man I'd missed for too long.
I can still see the look on my mother's face as she drove up the road and saw me sitting on the porch with my father. She shook her head in what looked like disapproval. I know I didn't care though...cause I was next to my dad and that's all that mattered at that moment. However, when it was time to go, I saw that things were different. I was eating a hot dog and when I went to give him a kiss goodbye he laughed and kinda shrugged back. Maybe I had mustard on my lips but I knew then that I couldn't be the little boy what just wanted his father to hold him close. Things were different, time had passed and it wasn't the same. I never did let go of that desire to be close to my father though. Once he was home I wanted to go to my grandma's often so I could see him. I remember he used to drive cabs at night and he would sleep during the day. His room was in the basement and I would go downstairs and sit on his couch and watch him sleep. I was hoping he would wake up and talk to me. I would move around or make a little noise to try and disturb his sleep. I wanted his attention so badly. It's disappointing to think back on those experiences.
My father disappointed me alot when I was a kid; by not being there, by not loving me as I thought he should, by not teaching me some things that a man should teach his son. I've gotten past the anger that comes with that but it still hurts. There are so many things I wish I could remember about my childhood. So many things about my family are mixed up and unorganized in my head. Sometimes I don't even know if I want to remember them...and I wish I could remember the better moments more than I remember the crazy and hurtful moments. One of my greatest disappointments in life, one of my most traumatic experiences was a result of my father's actions...and I don't even think he knows about it. But I'll save that for my next post.
These memories help me understand now why my son is always around me, why he always wants to do something or play video games with me. He is just like I was...he loves his dad.
My earliest memory is one that will always stick with me. I remember my father sitting on the couch at my grandmother's house. He is crying and so was I. I was just a little boy and I think he was leaving or something. My mother said it was time to go and we left. I cried and cried on the drive home, we may have even turned around so I could see him again but I'm not sure. After that I don't remember much about my father as a child. He moved away for several years and didn't return till I was maybe 11 or 12...it's all a blur. What I remember in those years that he was gone was that I loved my him TREMENDOUSLY even though he wasn't around, even though I only talked to him a few times a year. I would talk about him and how he was gonna come back or how I would be able to see him sometime. I hated when others would bad mouth him. I was so proud of a father that wasn't there. It was like loving a ghost.
The day he came back my sister and I went to my grandma's, as we did fairly often. This time was different though. She got us early in the morning and when we got to her house, everyone was standing around with smiles on their faces. As we stood in her living room, my father jumped out from the back rooms and surprised us. That was the absolute happiest moment of my life up to that point. Having my father actually there with me was the best feeling ever. I got to stay at my grandma's a couple days and spend time with the man I'd missed for too long.
I can still see the look on my mother's face as she drove up the road and saw me sitting on the porch with my father. She shook her head in what looked like disapproval. I know I didn't care though...cause I was next to my dad and that's all that mattered at that moment. However, when it was time to go, I saw that things were different. I was eating a hot dog and when I went to give him a kiss goodbye he laughed and kinda shrugged back. Maybe I had mustard on my lips but I knew then that I couldn't be the little boy what just wanted his father to hold him close. Things were different, time had passed and it wasn't the same. I never did let go of that desire to be close to my father though. Once he was home I wanted to go to my grandma's often so I could see him. I remember he used to drive cabs at night and he would sleep during the day. His room was in the basement and I would go downstairs and sit on his couch and watch him sleep. I was hoping he would wake up and talk to me. I would move around or make a little noise to try and disturb his sleep. I wanted his attention so badly. It's disappointing to think back on those experiences.
My father disappointed me alot when I was a kid; by not being there, by not loving me as I thought he should, by not teaching me some things that a man should teach his son. I've gotten past the anger that comes with that but it still hurts. There are so many things I wish I could remember about my childhood. So many things about my family are mixed up and unorganized in my head. Sometimes I don't even know if I want to remember them...and I wish I could remember the better moments more than I remember the crazy and hurtful moments. One of my greatest disappointments in life, one of my most traumatic experiences was a result of my father's actions...and I don't even think he knows about it. But I'll save that for my next post.
These memories help me understand now why my son is always around me, why he always wants to do something or play video games with me. He is just like I was...he loves his dad.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
An Intro...
I once kept a journal for an entire year. I called it, "The Diary of an Undiscovered Genius." That may have been wishful thinking on my part but it's really interesting to go back and read some of the things I wrote that year. I went through so many ups and downs, I progressed and regressed in maturity. When I read the end of the journal I feel like there should be a To Be Continued line written on the page.
Well I've obviously continued, I just haven't written anything else down. I'm hoping this blog can be the place to write down my thoughts...the place to continue where I once left off. I've always loved writing and I think this is going to be fun for me. I don't know what will come of this, I just know that my head is always spinning with thoughts and its time that I get some of these thoughts down.
So here I begin...on this Long Road to Somewhere. This road that I've been on for the past 31 years. Its been a bumpy ride and many days I'm still trying to find exacty the right road to turn on. It isn't much different than anyone else I suppose; we're all traveling on a road to somewhere...our destinations are just different. Travel with me for a while won't you.
Well I've obviously continued, I just haven't written anything else down. I'm hoping this blog can be the place to write down my thoughts...the place to continue where I once left off. I've always loved writing and I think this is going to be fun for me. I don't know what will come of this, I just know that my head is always spinning with thoughts and its time that I get some of these thoughts down.
So here I begin...on this Long Road to Somewhere. This road that I've been on for the past 31 years. Its been a bumpy ride and many days I'm still trying to find exacty the right road to turn on. It isn't much different than anyone else I suppose; we're all traveling on a road to somewhere...our destinations are just different. Travel with me for a while won't you.
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