It's been a few weeks since I have Blogged. It's not that I haven't wanted to, but things have been crazy at home and work. In between the chaos I have moments of reflection that I know I should bog out of me, but I just haven't been able to nail it out.
My outlook on my life has changed since I returned from my trip. I feel that going on that four day journey truly was one of the most important things I have ever done for myself. It was a defining point in my character. Not just because I found and met the man I had always thought of as a myth, and mystery, but because I have no more questions about my life. I am fully aware of where I came from and why I am the way I am. The fact that there is someone who resembles me is an amazing feeling. This may sound silly but I even feel more confident in my own being.
I watched a movie the other night called Big Fish. It was interesting and enjoyable, if not a little sad. I like Tim Burton and his films and this was in my opinion one of his better films. The end made me think of my grandmother who died a couple of years ago. She was the most amazing person, and one of the most giving people I had ever known. She had 13 children and was survived by over 50 grandchildren. The last eight years of her life were hard on her and everyone who loves her. She had suffered a stroke in 1994, and that crippled her. Before that she was always on the go, doing something for someone.
It must have been because I was thinking of her today... But as I walked downtown I saw the usual beggars and homeless. I saw a man in a wheelchair who I had most likely seen before, but today for some reason I felt compelled to do something for him. He had a Styrofoam cup and a cardboard sign saying he was hungry. So I bought him a sandwich. It wasn't much, but I thought that it might help him get through the day. I don't remember that last time I did this, I usually don't even pay attention because there are so many of them on the streets. I just felt like helping.
Thank you grandma. We miss you.
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Monday, October 11, 2004
Day 3: The Answer
I waited by the window watching cars and trucks pass by my hotel's parking lot. 5:00 PM had come and gone, and I started getting the feeling that he wasn't going to show. I really didn't want to have to make this harder than it already was, but I didn't come here and go through hell not to see him. I figured I'd let the clock run down to 7:00 PM and if I hadn't heard from him I'd head to his house. Then my hotel room phone rang at 5:45. It was him, "I'm at the bar down the street if you want to come by." I said I was on my way. This threw me off a little. I had been all prepared to have him walk into my room and deal with this here. But I grabbed car keys and the pictures I had brought of my family and headed over to the bar.
Ironically, or maybe not so much, this was the bar I was in yesterday. The feeling I had was incredible, knowing that as I walked up to the entrance all my years of wondering and speculating were going to come to an end. I'm finally going to see a face and not a blank spot where one should be. There were two men sitting at the bar, and one sitting alone at a table. I walked up to the man sitting alone with a beer and introduced myself. "Thank you for coming." I said. He asked if I was going to have a drink. I walked over to the bar just as the bartender was coming around to bring me a beer, the same brand I had been drinking the day before. I shook my head no, and asked for a Crown on ice. The two guys at the bar started giving me accolades for my choice. "Now that's how you drink!" one of them said. I walked back over to the table and sat down. I could clearly see that this was my father. The deep brown eyes and black hair. I felt like I was looking into my own eyes. It was a feeling I had never known before. I will try and relay as many of the details and conversation as well as I can.
Son (that'd be me): I know this was hard for you and I want you to know that I appreciate your effort.
Dad: I don't understand you. What is it you want?
Son: I want to see what you look like. I want questions I have answered. Every child has a right to know who they're parents are and what they look like.
Dad: Well take a good look because this is what you'll look like in 30 years. So what do you want to know?
At this I proceeded to ask every question I had ever had. I wanted his version of the story about how his affair with my mother went, and why it ended the way it did. I was very surprised with myself, I thought that when this moment in my life came that I'd be emotional, but I was very cool and collective. I'm pretty sure the whiskey helped. I learned a lot about my father and about myself that night. At first he was standoffish, and didn't want to say much. But I told him I didn't know if I'd ever see him again, so these were the things that needed to be addressed. At one point after telling him about myself he says, "I'd say I'm proud of you, but I don't really have that right." At least he knows that it would be a right. I learned about my heritage and descendents on his side. He told me that he did think of me from time to time, but felt there wasn't anything he could do. He didn't want to hurt his family so it was always just left alone.
He asked me twice at different times if I had ever talked to his sons, and I said no. This is a half truth, or half lie, as I hadn't actually spoken to his sons but I had emailed one of them a few times about five years ago. So his one oldest son does know for sure. But he also lied to me about where his sons are now. I guess it is because of his fear that I would try find them still and talk to them. He told me that in his first 10 years of marriage he did a lot of "wandering". In fact I found out that he had only been married for nine months before starting an adulterous affair with my 17 year old mother at the time. So this leads me naturally to my next question. "Do you have any other illegitimate children?"
He says, "Yes. One even older than you are. He was born before I was married though. I was 18 at the time." He told his name, and that he does talk to him about every six months. His family knows about him of course. I found this very interesting to learn. For the first time in my life I am no longer the oldest out of my siblings. Strange feeling. I know I will one day meet this new person I’ve learned about.
We talked about a lot of things. Well actually, I did the majority of the talking. I asked him what kind of father he had been for the boys as they grew up. What they did for recreational activities, and did they spend much time together as a family. These were all things I had wondered about over the years. He said he didn’t understand my reasons for wanting to meet him or pursue knowledge of him and his sons. He said he didn’t come from a close family and that even his immediate family wasn’t very close.
I told him about my life, and how hard it was growing up without know who I was or where I came. To have a half of my self always feel incomplete. I’m nearly 30 now. I told him that the days of me needing someone to throw a ball with in the backyard are long gone. I don’t want or need any monetary support. What I need is answers to my questions and closure to this part of my life. I told him my children will reach a point when they’ll start asking me questions about my life, and I’ll need to tell them something. I can’t shrug my shoulders because I don’t know the answers to things they may be curious about. So this was my attempt to finally fill the giant hole in my life and move on. If this was all I’d ever have or know, then I’ll be content. Knowing that I went out on my own to find answers to the questions I had. Knowing that only I could.
It was during our conversation of his family and its closeness, or lack there of, that he says to me, “This is the longest I’ve talked one on one to any of my children.” He says this after only two hours of conversation. How sad. I can’t imagine not spending more than a few hours with my kids. I look forward to the time when I can sit and visit with my sons for hours on end.
After a while he really seemed to warm up to me. He kept saying things like, “I have a feeling we be seeing each other again.” I told him that I wasn’t here to try and make him have a father-son relationship with me. If I never saw or spoke to him again, I could be content. I said that he has to make up his mind as to what he wants to do, and I’m fine with whatever he comes up with.
I could go on and on, after all we did talk straight for about four hours. But in short, things went very well. Better than I had even expected. I felt a sense of calmness and contentment.
He told me that he wished I didn’t have to leave the next day, and would like to spend some more time with me. I told him that if he wanted, I would postpone my flight one day. But he had to go home and talk to his wife first. I gave him the option to call me by 8 AM the next day to let me know. I needed to know early because I had four hour drive back to Winnipeg to catch my flight. As we said our goodbyes, I reached out to shake his hand. When he grabbed my hand he pulled me towards him and gave me hug. This was very foreign to me. I never thought I’d ever have been able to hug my dad. I thought maybe it was the alcohol, but maybe it wasn’t.
The next day 8 AM came and went, and I never heard from him. But that was Okay. I checked out of my hotel and started the drive back. For the first two hours of my drive I simply recounted our conversations in my head. Usually I’d have music blaring, I hate silence when driving. But this was what I needed. I left that little town knowing so much more about myself. The last few weeks of really being troubled, and the difficulty of the last few days especially were well worth it!
I almost fee like a different person. Maybe I am.
Ironically, or maybe not so much, this was the bar I was in yesterday. The feeling I had was incredible, knowing that as I walked up to the entrance all my years of wondering and speculating were going to come to an end. I'm finally going to see a face and not a blank spot where one should be. There were two men sitting at the bar, and one sitting alone at a table. I walked up to the man sitting alone with a beer and introduced myself. "Thank you for coming." I said. He asked if I was going to have a drink. I walked over to the bar just as the bartender was coming around to bring me a beer, the same brand I had been drinking the day before. I shook my head no, and asked for a Crown on ice. The two guys at the bar started giving me accolades for my choice. "Now that's how you drink!" one of them said. I walked back over to the table and sat down. I could clearly see that this was my father. The deep brown eyes and black hair. I felt like I was looking into my own eyes. It was a feeling I had never known before. I will try and relay as many of the details and conversation as well as I can.
Son (that'd be me): I know this was hard for you and I want you to know that I appreciate your effort.
Dad: I don't understand you. What is it you want?
Son: I want to see what you look like. I want questions I have answered. Every child has a right to know who they're parents are and what they look like.
Dad: Well take a good look because this is what you'll look like in 30 years. So what do you want to know?
At this I proceeded to ask every question I had ever had. I wanted his version of the story about how his affair with my mother went, and why it ended the way it did. I was very surprised with myself, I thought that when this moment in my life came that I'd be emotional, but I was very cool and collective. I'm pretty sure the whiskey helped. I learned a lot about my father and about myself that night. At first he was standoffish, and didn't want to say much. But I told him I didn't know if I'd ever see him again, so these were the things that needed to be addressed. At one point after telling him about myself he says, "I'd say I'm proud of you, but I don't really have that right." At least he knows that it would be a right. I learned about my heritage and descendents on his side. He told me that he did think of me from time to time, but felt there wasn't anything he could do. He didn't want to hurt his family so it was always just left alone.
He asked me twice at different times if I had ever talked to his sons, and I said no. This is a half truth, or half lie, as I hadn't actually spoken to his sons but I had emailed one of them a few times about five years ago. So his one oldest son does know for sure. But he also lied to me about where his sons are now. I guess it is because of his fear that I would try find them still and talk to them. He told me that in his first 10 years of marriage he did a lot of "wandering". In fact I found out that he had only been married for nine months before starting an adulterous affair with my 17 year old mother at the time. So this leads me naturally to my next question. "Do you have any other illegitimate children?"
He says, "Yes. One even older than you are. He was born before I was married though. I was 18 at the time." He told his name, and that he does talk to him about every six months. His family knows about him of course. I found this very interesting to learn. For the first time in my life I am no longer the oldest out of my siblings. Strange feeling. I know I will one day meet this new person I’ve learned about.
We talked about a lot of things. Well actually, I did the majority of the talking. I asked him what kind of father he had been for the boys as they grew up. What they did for recreational activities, and did they spend much time together as a family. These were all things I had wondered about over the years. He said he didn’t understand my reasons for wanting to meet him or pursue knowledge of him and his sons. He said he didn’t come from a close family and that even his immediate family wasn’t very close.
I told him about my life, and how hard it was growing up without know who I was or where I came. To have a half of my self always feel incomplete. I’m nearly 30 now. I told him that the days of me needing someone to throw a ball with in the backyard are long gone. I don’t want or need any monetary support. What I need is answers to my questions and closure to this part of my life. I told him my children will reach a point when they’ll start asking me questions about my life, and I’ll need to tell them something. I can’t shrug my shoulders because I don’t know the answers to things they may be curious about. So this was my attempt to finally fill the giant hole in my life and move on. If this was all I’d ever have or know, then I’ll be content. Knowing that I went out on my own to find answers to the questions I had. Knowing that only I could.
It was during our conversation of his family and its closeness, or lack there of, that he says to me, “This is the longest I’ve talked one on one to any of my children.” He says this after only two hours of conversation. How sad. I can’t imagine not spending more than a few hours with my kids. I look forward to the time when I can sit and visit with my sons for hours on end.
After a while he really seemed to warm up to me. He kept saying things like, “I have a feeling we be seeing each other again.” I told him that I wasn’t here to try and make him have a father-son relationship with me. If I never saw or spoke to him again, I could be content. I said that he has to make up his mind as to what he wants to do, and I’m fine with whatever he comes up with.
I could go on and on, after all we did talk straight for about four hours. But in short, things went very well. Better than I had even expected. I felt a sense of calmness and contentment.
He told me that he wished I didn’t have to leave the next day, and would like to spend some more time with me. I told him that if he wanted, I would postpone my flight one day. But he had to go home and talk to his wife first. I gave him the option to call me by 8 AM the next day to let me know. I needed to know early because I had four hour drive back to Winnipeg to catch my flight. As we said our goodbyes, I reached out to shake his hand. When he grabbed my hand he pulled me towards him and gave me hug. This was very foreign to me. I never thought I’d ever have been able to hug my dad. I thought maybe it was the alcohol, but maybe it wasn’t.
The next day 8 AM came and went, and I never heard from him. But that was Okay. I checked out of my hotel and started the drive back. For the first two hours of my drive I simply recounted our conversations in my head. Usually I’d have music blaring, I hate silence when driving. But this was what I needed. I left that little town knowing so much more about myself. The last few weeks of really being troubled, and the difficulty of the last few days especially were well worth it!
I almost fee like a different person. Maybe I am.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
Day 3: Waiting
Time is ticking down to my first and maybe last encounter with my father. I feel like my life has built up to this point. It’s an inexplicable feeling of force that has compelled me to search for him throughout my life. I have to know what he looks like even if I never see him again. It won’t be how I had envisioned so many times in my mind growing up. Those illusions are long gone. I used to pretend that my father was searching for something he thought was missing, but didn’t know what it was until I found him. What a sad state. In reality he doesn’t even care or want to. It’s a good thing I was an adult when I found him, because if I had been rejected when I really needed him it most certainly would have killed me.
My stomach is starting to knot and I can’t stop sweating. I’m a grown man for God’s sake!
Mistakes are easy to push inside a closet when they’re hidden from view. Time to face your mistake, I’m right here. Try to ignore me now!
My stomach is starting to knot and I can’t stop sweating. I’m a grown man for God’s sake!
Mistakes are easy to push inside a closet when they’re hidden from view. Time to face your mistake, I’m right here. Try to ignore me now!
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Day 2
Today was hard. I waited all day, with still no word from my father. I walked around downtown and along the walkway on the pathway along the river. It was very nice today, sunshine and warmth, the opposite of yesterday. There is too much time for me to do nothing but think. I think about my life, about where I have come from and how it has brought me here. The years of my life not knowing and hoping are nearly gone. I began to become very discontent with not having heard from him by this point. So I went to where I figured I might be able to learn something about him. The local bar. It was empty except for three or four guys who looked like they might be around his age. But after sitting there and drinking a couple of beers I got the feeling that it wasn’t going to work. The men there were all pretty boisterous and intoxicated, so I didn’t bother asking them any questions.
I went back out to drive around for a while. It was mid day and the thought of him not being in town again started to creep in more. It had been nearly 24hrs since he had heard I wanted to talk to him. This made me start to look for his house. I didn’t come all this way not to see him. I stopped by a nearby gas station, and asked for directions to the outlining area that I knew he lived in. Turns out the guy behind the counter lives in the same neighborhood and actually drew me a map, and when he asked who I was looking for he was kind enough to tell me which house was theirs. Wow, small town people really have no concept of privacy. Nobody here has even enquired who I was before giving me all kinds of information. The girl at my hotel even told me that she used to go to school with one of my brothers when I asked her if she knew him. She never even asked who I was. I bet most of them don’t even look their doors at night. Ignorance is bliss. Anyways, I drove by my father’s house. It’s huge, with a three car garage and a boat. I saw his wife tending to some trees in the yard as I drove by. There was only a car home, and I knew my father drives a truck. Seeing someone home gave me back some contentment that he was in town. So I continued to wait, and drive, and wait…
That feeling soon started to come back to me. I had driven by his home a few times, and by 6:00 PM his truck was in the driveway. My time in town is getting shorter, so by 8:00 PM I decided to hell with me trying to do things in a convenient manner for him. Trying to make things easier on him, to help his home life. He has never tried making anything easy on me. I called his house and he answered. I told him that I was calling because I hadn’t heard from him, and needed to talk to him. Once again he asks me what I want. I told him I was in town and wanted to see him. He was quiet for a minute. “Where do you expect this to go?” He asks me. Is his guy that insensitive?
“I don’t expect it to go anywhere.” I said. “It’s been along time, and I don’t believe that your opinion on this situation has changed much. But I think we can sit down together and have a coffee like two adults.”
He asked me how long I was in town and why. So I told him I was here for a few days, and I came to see him. “Where are you staying?” He asks. I told him my hotel and room number.
“Well I have to work tomorrow, but maybe I’ll come by there around five or six.” He offers. MAYBE??! And how about a definite time? I was only thinking these, but I didn’t come here to be confrontational. That being said, if he doesn’t show up tomorrow I will go to his house, and he’ll have to deal with me there. I have a right to know what he looks like, and if I have to knock and his door and wait until it opens to see that, I will.
It was left at that. I sat in the lobby for about half an hour trying to calm down. 29 years of emotion running through my veins. This is the second time I have been left literally shaking after having conversations with rejecting father figures. Shit. My head is pounding. I thought about going back out to the bar tonight, but I just don’t have it in me. I’m too stressed to play.
So here I sit typing away. Contemplating how tomorrow will go. I am nervous and scared, and at the same time angry and confused. Why do I put myself through this? Why do I care so bad about having a father? I guess it was the false hope that kept me going when I was growing up. I figured that my life of abusive step-fathers was so bad, that if I ever found my real dad, he would make up for it by being this amazing person. What a fucking joke. The thought that I’d be rejected by him had never even crept in my mind.
I have been documenting my trip by means of my camera cell phone. I will post some of the pictures after I load the software to get them off of the phone.
At least tonight I’m not drunk. Yet.
I went back out to drive around for a while. It was mid day and the thought of him not being in town again started to creep in more. It had been nearly 24hrs since he had heard I wanted to talk to him. This made me start to look for his house. I didn’t come all this way not to see him. I stopped by a nearby gas station, and asked for directions to the outlining area that I knew he lived in. Turns out the guy behind the counter lives in the same neighborhood and actually drew me a map, and when he asked who I was looking for he was kind enough to tell me which house was theirs. Wow, small town people really have no concept of privacy. Nobody here has even enquired who I was before giving me all kinds of information. The girl at my hotel even told me that she used to go to school with one of my brothers when I asked her if she knew him. She never even asked who I was. I bet most of them don’t even look their doors at night. Ignorance is bliss. Anyways, I drove by my father’s house. It’s huge, with a three car garage and a boat. I saw his wife tending to some trees in the yard as I drove by. There was only a car home, and I knew my father drives a truck. Seeing someone home gave me back some contentment that he was in town. So I continued to wait, and drive, and wait…
That feeling soon started to come back to me. I had driven by his home a few times, and by 6:00 PM his truck was in the driveway. My time in town is getting shorter, so by 8:00 PM I decided to hell with me trying to do things in a convenient manner for him. Trying to make things easier on him, to help his home life. He has never tried making anything easy on me. I called his house and he answered. I told him that I was calling because I hadn’t heard from him, and needed to talk to him. Once again he asks me what I want. I told him I was in town and wanted to see him. He was quiet for a minute. “Where do you expect this to go?” He asks me. Is his guy that insensitive?
“I don’t expect it to go anywhere.” I said. “It’s been along time, and I don’t believe that your opinion on this situation has changed much. But I think we can sit down together and have a coffee like two adults.”
He asked me how long I was in town and why. So I told him I was here for a few days, and I came to see him. “Where are you staying?” He asks. I told him my hotel and room number.
“Well I have to work tomorrow, but maybe I’ll come by there around five or six.” He offers. MAYBE??! And how about a definite time? I was only thinking these, but I didn’t come here to be confrontational. That being said, if he doesn’t show up tomorrow I will go to his house, and he’ll have to deal with me there. I have a right to know what he looks like, and if I have to knock and his door and wait until it opens to see that, I will.
It was left at that. I sat in the lobby for about half an hour trying to calm down. 29 years of emotion running through my veins. This is the second time I have been left literally shaking after having conversations with rejecting father figures. Shit. My head is pounding. I thought about going back out to the bar tonight, but I just don’t have it in me. I’m too stressed to play.
So here I sit typing away. Contemplating how tomorrow will go. I am nervous and scared, and at the same time angry and confused. Why do I put myself through this? Why do I care so bad about having a father? I guess it was the false hope that kept me going when I was growing up. I figured that my life of abusive step-fathers was so bad, that if I ever found my real dad, he would make up for it by being this amazing person. What a fucking joke. The thought that I’d be rejected by him had never even crept in my mind.
I have been documenting my trip by means of my camera cell phone. I will post some of the pictures after I load the software to get them off of the phone.
At least tonight I’m not drunk. Yet.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Day 1
My flight lasted only 2 and some hours. Not bad. For the most part it was pretty boring. They had these small LCD screens playing constant commercials for the airline that I was already paying to fly with... insecure? It wasn't all bad. For the last 40 minutes of the flight they played an episode of the Drew Carrey Show. And one I had not seen, so that was a plus. However, not all was smooth sailing. When I arrived at the airport, at 12:02 AM, I went to the car rental counter to pick up my rental vehicle I had reserved last weekend. Turns out they had messed up my reservation. They had me picking up the car a day later. But luckily there was a capable lady behind the counter who was very nice, and not only provided me a car, but a free upgrade to my original reservation. I then spent what was remaining of the night at the near by Comfort Inn. I didn't sleep that well, and the wake up call came at 6:30 am, 4:30 am my time. I checked out and started my journey to find my father. My first stop: Tim Horton's (not a Starbucks in sight). Unfortunately they didn't accept Interac like out west, so I couldn't pay the $2.50 service charges on a $1.40 purchase. But the real downer was that I only had just enough change for the small coffee. I then drove four hours to a small town, crossing the Canadian U.S. boarder twice. The closer I got the the place I've though of for the last eight years, the tighter my stomach got. It was almost surreal to see.
When I arrived to this small town of only 9000, I drove around for a while. I drove by the former address of my father's and where my two half brothers would have grown up. Or at least where it would have been. Turns out the leveled the block and are adding on to the hospital beside it. Then I found an information centre and found out where the local high school was. My plan was to visit the high school and view the yearbooks for the time my brothers had attended there. The librarian was very nice and helpful. She let me know that the older brother had just left the high school after being a teacher there for the last two years. Not only that, she told me where he was living, that he was getting married, and even gave me his email address. She did all of that before she even asked who I was or why I was looking at the yearbooks. I told her I was a distant relative, which I am, but then messed it up when she said, "His parents must still live in town." And I responded with, "I don't really know his parents." DUH! She then got very quiet, and left to do her duties.
The truth is I felt worse after seeing pictures of my half brothers, because frankly, I don't think they look anything like me. If I was to walk by then on the street I wouldn't even look twice. I felt more alone after that. I don't know what I was looking for, but it kind of kicked me in the heart to see that we really don't look related. At least that's my opinion. If someone else saw the same pics maybe they'd see it different. I tried to take pictures of the photos in the yearbooks with my cell phone, but it doesn't look like they turned out very well. They are all fuzzy. But none the less, I have them.
So now I'm left to wonder what my dad looks like. As I walked in the local Safeway I wondered if I seemed familiar to anyone. If My brothers look nothing like me, do I look anything like my father????
About 10 or more years ago, one of my close aunts asked me why I wanted to see my father and his family. My response,"I just want to meet people who look like me." Now I'm not so sure there is anyone that does. I have been teased all my life by friends and family because I have a darker complexion than the rest of them. My answer was that it must have come from my dad. People would ask me my nationality, and I would either have to make something up, or say Heinz 57. At one point in my life I would answer that I am Greek, or Italian. You know, it was almost easier when I didn't know anything about the person who provided the sperm that eventually became me.
Anyways, I'm getting off in another direction. Back to my trip, or where I am right now. I checked into a local hotel. And then worked up the courage to call a friend of my father's. When I had first found my dad eight years ago, he didn't want me contacting him at his residence, so he gave me the address of a friend of his. He told me to use that address if I needed to, but don't call or mail him at home, as it would cause problems for him with his wife. So I looked up the telephone number of his friend, and called him. I explained the reason for my call, and asked if he would contact my father for me, and let him know that I need to speak with him. The friend didn't seem to know who I was, but agreed to call my dad. But he did say that he didn't know if my father would be at his cabin. This is after all a long weekend. My heart sank. What if I came across four provinces, and over 2500 km., spending tons of money on airfare and accommodation, to have him not even be here?! Hell had mention this possibility during her fit of anger when learning about my plans to come here. I left it at that, and went for another drive around town.
After driving around for a while I decided to call my father's house. I felt so down that I may have just wasted this trip to have him not be here in town. So I stopped at a pay phone, which by the way didn't accept coins of any sort, only calling cards and credit cards, damn Bell Canada sucks. Anyways, I called up my dad's residence and waited to see if there'd be an answer. The phone rang three time before it was picked up. It was a woman's voice, so I asked for a made up name, and agreed when she said I had the wrong number. I just needed confirmation that someone was home. I drove back to my hotel, and called the friend of my father's. It had been two hours since my first call. He told me that he had indeed contacted my dad and assured me that my dad planned on calling me back....
So this is where I sit. Alone, waiting. I spent the night with Denis Miller, The Simpson's, and the presidential debate. He has not called, and it has been over six hours. I feel pathetic. I have sat here and drank a micky of whiskey from a plastic Super 8 Hotel cup, waiting for his call. I hope he doesn't decide to leave for the weekend and put me off until then. I need to see him now! I have waited long enough for the man with no face.
Fuck.
When I arrived to this small town of only 9000, I drove around for a while. I drove by the former address of my father's and where my two half brothers would have grown up. Or at least where it would have been. Turns out the leveled the block and are adding on to the hospital beside it. Then I found an information centre and found out where the local high school was. My plan was to visit the high school and view the yearbooks for the time my brothers had attended there. The librarian was very nice and helpful. She let me know that the older brother had just left the high school after being a teacher there for the last two years. Not only that, she told me where he was living, that he was getting married, and even gave me his email address. She did all of that before she even asked who I was or why I was looking at the yearbooks. I told her I was a distant relative, which I am, but then messed it up when she said, "His parents must still live in town." And I responded with, "I don't really know his parents." DUH! She then got very quiet, and left to do her duties.
The truth is I felt worse after seeing pictures of my half brothers, because frankly, I don't think they look anything like me. If I was to walk by then on the street I wouldn't even look twice. I felt more alone after that. I don't know what I was looking for, but it kind of kicked me in the heart to see that we really don't look related. At least that's my opinion. If someone else saw the same pics maybe they'd see it different. I tried to take pictures of the photos in the yearbooks with my cell phone, but it doesn't look like they turned out very well. They are all fuzzy. But none the less, I have them.
So now I'm left to wonder what my dad looks like. As I walked in the local Safeway I wondered if I seemed familiar to anyone. If My brothers look nothing like me, do I look anything like my father????
About 10 or more years ago, one of my close aunts asked me why I wanted to see my father and his family. My response,"I just want to meet people who look like me." Now I'm not so sure there is anyone that does. I have been teased all my life by friends and family because I have a darker complexion than the rest of them. My answer was that it must have come from my dad. People would ask me my nationality, and I would either have to make something up, or say Heinz 57. At one point in my life I would answer that I am Greek, or Italian. You know, it was almost easier when I didn't know anything about the person who provided the sperm that eventually became me.
Anyways, I'm getting off in another direction. Back to my trip, or where I am right now. I checked into a local hotel. And then worked up the courage to call a friend of my father's. When I had first found my dad eight years ago, he didn't want me contacting him at his residence, so he gave me the address of a friend of his. He told me to use that address if I needed to, but don't call or mail him at home, as it would cause problems for him with his wife. So I looked up the telephone number of his friend, and called him. I explained the reason for my call, and asked if he would contact my father for me, and let him know that I need to speak with him. The friend didn't seem to know who I was, but agreed to call my dad. But he did say that he didn't know if my father would be at his cabin. This is after all a long weekend. My heart sank. What if I came across four provinces, and over 2500 km., spending tons of money on airfare and accommodation, to have him not even be here?! Hell had mention this possibility during her fit of anger when learning about my plans to come here. I left it at that, and went for another drive around town.
After driving around for a while I decided to call my father's house. I felt so down that I may have just wasted this trip to have him not be here in town. So I stopped at a pay phone, which by the way didn't accept coins of any sort, only calling cards and credit cards, damn Bell Canada sucks. Anyways, I called up my dad's residence and waited to see if there'd be an answer. The phone rang three time before it was picked up. It was a woman's voice, so I asked for a made up name, and agreed when she said I had the wrong number. I just needed confirmation that someone was home. I drove back to my hotel, and called the friend of my father's. It had been two hours since my first call. He told me that he had indeed contacted my dad and assured me that my dad planned on calling me back....
So this is where I sit. Alone, waiting. I spent the night with Denis Miller, The Simpson's, and the presidential debate. He has not called, and it has been over six hours. I feel pathetic. I have sat here and drank a micky of whiskey from a plastic Super 8 Hotel cup, waiting for his call. I hope he doesn't decide to leave for the weekend and put me off until then. I need to see him now! I have waited long enough for the man with no face.
Fuck.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Finding a Phantom
So today is the day I start my journey. Whether I find what I'm looking for will be the question. But what am I looking for? Sometimes I think I know... right now I'm not sure. I could be just wasting my time and money on a phantom. A faceless person who exists only in my fantasies. I have heard his voice though I don't remember how it sounds. Maybe he has had a change of heart in the last eight years, but I doubt it. So here I am, laying myself out on the line. But you know what? At least I can say that I did everything that I could within my power. There are so many 'what if's'. What if he won't see me? What if he's not there? What if.. what if.. what if... It could go on and on. But I have made this decion. I need to know if I look like him. I need to know if he even cares that he is a grandfather. I need to know so many things. Do I get any traits from him? I think I do. For example, my inclination to peruse a relationship with a woman who is not my wife. Why do I do this? Why did he? I am not a better person than he is, and that is not what this is about. Like I have said before, if I don't know where I came from, how do I know where I'm going? I knew this time would one day come. I have searched since I knew, about the age of 9. It was that time that I realized the true magnitude of my situation. And throughout my life of abusive step fathers, I knew that if my Dad knew of my existence, he would never allow me to hurt. He would care me, and want to be with me. That was my one hope through out my life. So when I finally found him he asked me, "What do you want?" I didn't know what to say. I didn't want money, or someone to play catch with me, or ride on his shoulders. I was past that age. I knew that I would never experience what I feel I lost out on in my childhood. So what did I want... I wanted acceptance. And that's what he didn't want to give me.
I have to go, my flight is announcing its boarding call.
I have to go, my flight is announcing its boarding call.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Leaving.... On A Jet Plane
Things have been as expected. Hell has been been getting more angry the closer it comes to my leaving this week. She is mad that I made the arrangements to go without talking to her about it first. She has some right in that aspect, but her anger is solely monetary. It has nothing to do with how I feel or what my goal is. Just that I spent money on a flight and will not be around for 4 days. Such an inconvenience.
It is getting closer though. I leave in two nights. I am making a blind trip. I have never been there, don't know anyone, and don't know what to expect. Will I even see the man that provided the sperm for my existence? Maybe. Depends on how he reacts to me being there. For God's sake, the guy is 53 now! Is he still that insecure about an affair he had 30 years ago when he was 23?? Come on. It was eight years ago when I found him. He has had enough time to digest what has been the outcome of his extramarital affair. I don't want anything more than to know what he looks like. A cup of coffee. That's it. I come across three provinces for one cup of coffee. What harm could that cause? I am making all the sacrifices. I have been the only innocent victim in all of this, and of course his wife. His sons were not even born at the time, so their feelings of betrayal are strange to me.
It is getting closer though. I leave in two nights. I am making a blind trip. I have never been there, don't know anyone, and don't know what to expect. Will I even see the man that provided the sperm for my existence? Maybe. Depends on how he reacts to me being there. For God's sake, the guy is 53 now! Is he still that insecure about an affair he had 30 years ago when he was 23?? Come on. It was eight years ago when I found him. He has had enough time to digest what has been the outcome of his extramarital affair. I don't want anything more than to know what he looks like. A cup of coffee. That's it. I come across three provinces for one cup of coffee. What harm could that cause? I am making all the sacrifices. I have been the only innocent victim in all of this, and of course his wife. His sons were not even born at the time, so their feelings of betrayal are strange to me.
Saturday, October 02, 2004
Can't Hide From the Past
I have been soul searching lately, pretty hardcore. And I have come to the realization that I will never figure out just who or what I am until I know EXACTLY where I came from. So I have made a very strong, if a little hasty, decision to confront the man I have thought about for the last 30 years. I bought a plane ticket yesterday to Winnipeg for next week. I will rent a car from there and drive 4 hours to the small town my father has lived in since the mid 70's, and where my two half brothers grew up, not knowing of their older sibling. I didn't talk to Hell before I did this. It has made things hard here at home, but this is something I have to do.
I must sleep now, but this has been weighing heavily on me the last few days.
I need closure.
I must sleep now, but this has been weighing heavily on me the last few days.
I need closure.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
People Are Funny...Aren't They
So as you all know, I am going to the gym almost everyday trying to get into shape before my life ends... more appropriately known as turning 30! I still have, let's see (pause for mental calculations), 3 months and six days left. The goal: Be in the best physical shape of my life on that day. Will it happen, maybe. I've so far lost 13 lbs and gone down 3 inches in my waste. Anyways, not my reason for today's blog. No, what I find funny is that everyone at the gym all look like they hate it. They all have this depressed look on their faces. You get the odd guy who looks real happy and always asks you how you're doing, even though you've never met him before, but for the most part people just don't look happy. I just found that amusing and thought I should share it with the class. I probably look the same way, I'm sure it's not on purpose. Or why would you be there?
Maybe they're all turning 30 soon too.
Maybe they're all turning 30 soon too.
Monday, September 20, 2004
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Where are these monkeys coming from??
I've been very busy, as usual. I have just spent the weekend installing two Windows Server 2003 systems, one Active Directory and one Exchange 2003. The drivers that came with my original IBM hardware were crap. Especially the 320 SCSI adapter. It blue screened my server more than once. But I seem to have everything going alright now. The only things left are moving the clients into the new domain, and talking with Symantec about the high pitched noise coming from my gateway appliance. Anyway... boring stuff for you I'm sure.
I had a dream the other night about a girl I nearly dated almost 10 years ago. She is one of my only true regrets. She was more than beautiful, she was amazing. And she really liked me. I was a clueless, spineless 19 or 20 year old with little confidence. The short version of the story is that I messed up my chances with her. Anyways, back to my dream. We were dancing a slow dance and I started to tell her how I felt about her back in the day. I told her everything I used to think, but was too shy to say at the time. I wonder where she is now, not that it really matters. I know she'd have to be married by now. I ran into her cousin a few years ago, but never inquired about her. It's funny, no matter how final the past is, it's still something that always finds a way to pull at me. I spend too much time looking back. I need to work on that.
It's been exactly three weeks since I last saw or spoke to Temptation. Everytime I don't see or hear from her for an extended length of time I think maybe I never will again. And that wouldn't be a bad thing. As much as I want to explore a relationship with her I am realistic about my circumstance. It's just not an option. So lately I've been doing some forward thinking, trying to put my existing life with my family back to half normal, and spending more time with the kids, when I'm not working of course. So what happens? She calls me yesterday. Says she's going to be back in town for a while and would like to go out for coffee with me this week. She doesn't even drink coffee. I should have said "no"... but I didn't. I really have created a mess.
I feel like Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) in The Godfather III.
"Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in."
I had a dream the other night about a girl I nearly dated almost 10 years ago. She is one of my only true regrets. She was more than beautiful, she was amazing. And she really liked me. I was a clueless, spineless 19 or 20 year old with little confidence. The short version of the story is that I messed up my chances with her. Anyways, back to my dream. We were dancing a slow dance and I started to tell her how I felt about her back in the day. I told her everything I used to think, but was too shy to say at the time. I wonder where she is now, not that it really matters. I know she'd have to be married by now. I ran into her cousin a few years ago, but never inquired about her. It's funny, no matter how final the past is, it's still something that always finds a way to pull at me. I spend too much time looking back. I need to work on that.
It's been exactly three weeks since I last saw or spoke to Temptation. Everytime I don't see or hear from her for an extended length of time I think maybe I never will again. And that wouldn't be a bad thing. As much as I want to explore a relationship with her I am realistic about my circumstance. It's just not an option. So lately I've been doing some forward thinking, trying to put my existing life with my family back to half normal, and spending more time with the kids, when I'm not working of course. So what happens? She calls me yesterday. Says she's going to be back in town for a while and would like to go out for coffee with me this week. She doesn't even drink coffee. I should have said "no"... but I didn't. I really have created a mess.
I feel like Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) in The Godfather III.
"Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in."
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
In Case You're Wondering...Like Anyone Reads This
This was a rough weekend. I came close to leaving but just couldn't bring myself to do it. The kids were pretty upset, and it was especially hard on my oldest son.
The truth is, I seriously am in a mid-life crisis. I think about how my 20's are now gone, and I didn't travel, or do any of the things I had planned on doing. The other thing is that I am literally not the same person I was 8 - 10 years ago. Back then I was scared of waking up at 30 and being a single desperate guy, you know the type. Now I find I wake up near 30 and wonder, what the hell?! Where did the last 10 years go? Back then I was insecure and mentally weaker than I am today. I used to be very emotional, but that has done a full 180. Now I feel like a stone most of the time, void of any emotion unless its from my sons. It's not that I don't love Hell, I do, but it doesn't feel like it did then. She is the mother of my children and will always have my respect and love for that. But we are in different places in our lives. We want completely different things. But if I was to leave, I knew that the marriage would dissolve completely as well. And sure, other women are a huge temptation for me (see previous posts), though I have always been faithful.
There is no "other" woman that brought on these thoughts. These are the things that you push to the back of your mind, the ones that have maybe always been there and know that it is only fantasy and not a realistic option. I mean I love looking at beautiful women as much now as I ever have, but leaving what's most important in my life for one? I can't do it. Women would just end up being a by-product of leaving my marriage. My kids are my saving grace, without them who knows where I'd be, literally. I have had unbelievable urges to walk onto a plane without saying anything and ending up in a different country. But the boys keep me grounded.
So I swallow my pride, push my thoughts and wants to back to where they came, and put up a brave face. I will continue as I always have... like a man stuck in the dark, occasionally having glimpses of light shone on his face. It's all for them, they will be better men than I.
The truth is, I seriously am in a mid-life crisis. I think about how my 20's are now gone, and I didn't travel, or do any of the things I had planned on doing. The other thing is that I am literally not the same person I was 8 - 10 years ago. Back then I was scared of waking up at 30 and being a single desperate guy, you know the type. Now I find I wake up near 30 and wonder, what the hell?! Where did the last 10 years go? Back then I was insecure and mentally weaker than I am today. I used to be very emotional, but that has done a full 180. Now I feel like a stone most of the time, void of any emotion unless its from my sons. It's not that I don't love Hell, I do, but it doesn't feel like it did then. She is the mother of my children and will always have my respect and love for that. But we are in different places in our lives. We want completely different things. But if I was to leave, I knew that the marriage would dissolve completely as well. And sure, other women are a huge temptation for me (see previous posts), though I have always been faithful.
There is no "other" woman that brought on these thoughts. These are the things that you push to the back of your mind, the ones that have maybe always been there and know that it is only fantasy and not a realistic option. I mean I love looking at beautiful women as much now as I ever have, but leaving what's most important in my life for one? I can't do it. Women would just end up being a by-product of leaving my marriage. My kids are my saving grace, without them who knows where I'd be, literally. I have had unbelievable urges to walk onto a plane without saying anything and ending up in a different country. But the boys keep me grounded.
So I swallow my pride, push my thoughts and wants to back to where they came, and put up a brave face. I will continue as I always have... like a man stuck in the dark, occasionally having glimpses of light shone on his face. It's all for them, they will be better men than I.
Friday, September 10, 2004
Almost Losing It
It's been a very frustrating couple of weeks. I have been seriously considering leaving my wife. And not for a stripper either. The thing is this. I have been going through this whole early mid-life crisis lately. I'm freaking out about turning 30 in 3 1/2 months, and I'm thinking "where did my 20's go?!"
I have been a real ass to Hell the last little while too. She pretty much told me her and the kids were leaving me yesterday. I don't know what I want. I'm afraid of waking in 12 years and wondering where my entire life went. I love my kids. They are the only reason I haven't started over. I hate this shit. I know the right thing to do is just suck it up. I choose this life, albeit a little naively, but I did choose it. The other side of me says it'll be so nice to have your own place again, and to do what ever you want.
Tonight we are having a big talk. If I'm honest about my thoughts and feelings, then it's over and I'll be looking for a place. If I just shrug it off like I always have, then I get to be with the kids and they get to stay in their home.
I hate myself sometimes.
I have been a real ass to Hell the last little while too. She pretty much told me her and the kids were leaving me yesterday. I don't know what I want. I'm afraid of waking in 12 years and wondering where my entire life went. I love my kids. They are the only reason I haven't started over. I hate this shit. I know the right thing to do is just suck it up. I choose this life, albeit a little naively, but I did choose it. The other side of me says it'll be so nice to have your own place again, and to do what ever you want.
Tonight we are having a big talk. If I'm honest about my thoughts and feelings, then it's over and I'll be looking for a place. If I just shrug it off like I always have, then I get to be with the kids and they get to stay in their home.
I hate myself sometimes.
Saturday, August 28, 2004
No. 5
My whiskey liquor smile
Shone on you for hours
You gave me all my thoughts would allow
Blanketing me with your scent of flowers
You pretend to talk to me
You even say you'll call me
When my pockets are all empty
You have other people to see
"Let's have coffee" she says...
"I like to talk with you
We can start again when I return"
Now I know I'm playing the fool
That feeling is burning my soul
I have to look them in their eyes
Hoping they can't see this gaping hole
Left behind from her burning show
You took my money
And blew me a kiss
Isn't it funny how
You make yourself rich
Shone on you for hours
You gave me all my thoughts would allow
Blanketing me with your scent of flowers
You pretend to talk to me
You even say you'll call me
When my pockets are all empty
You have other people to see
"Let's have coffee" she says...
"I like to talk with you
We can start again when I return"
Now I know I'm playing the fool
That feeling is burning my soul
I have to look them in their eyes
Hoping they can't see this gaping hole
Left behind from her burning show
You took my money
And blew me a kiss
Isn't it funny how
You make yourself rich
Friday, August 27, 2004
Lead me not into temptation...oh what the hell!
So here I sit in an Internet cafe, waiting out my beverage. I have a cappicino I haven't quite finished. Normally I never need to use a public connection, but this weekend I'm working without my laptop. The only reason I even stopped in here was to check my email. I got a message 2 days ago from my temptation. She said she was back in town and wanted me to come by the club the next night. She hasn't called me again on the phone. I emailed her back saying I couldn't, but that maybe tonight or Saturday would work. Silence. For the last two days I haven't heard a word back. I called her, but got her message taker. I left my number.
So here I sit....with the guilt sitting hard on my chest from what I'm about to do. I told hell I was working late. And I did, just not as late as expected. If going to the club is the only way I get to see my temptation, then this is the last time. If she was serious about what she said the last time I saw her, then I'll see her outside the club. But I can't become a bigger fool than I already am. If that's possible.
I'm done my drink. Nothing left but foam that takes too long to slide to the lip of the mug. Here I go...I hope she's there...or maybe I don't?
Sometimes I hate being a man.
So here I sit....with the guilt sitting hard on my chest from what I'm about to do. I told hell I was working late. And I did, just not as late as expected. If going to the club is the only way I get to see my temptation, then this is the last time. If she was serious about what she said the last time I saw her, then I'll see her outside the club. But I can't become a bigger fool than I already am. If that's possible.
I'm done my drink. Nothing left but foam that takes too long to slide to the lip of the mug. Here I go...I hope she's there...or maybe I don't?
Sometimes I hate being a man.
Friday, August 20, 2004
The Thing I Miss the Most is My Mind
There is so much going on, and I have so little time to blog it out. Work is busy, I have a client I'm doing a major project for. That'll keep my hours long over the next few weeks. Perhaps it'll also keep my mind from wandering, and my heart from pulling me into inappropriate situations.
We're going away for the weekend...should be good.
Do you ever make guilt purchases? Damn me.
We're going away for the weekend...should be good.
Do you ever make guilt purchases? Damn me.
Monday, August 16, 2004
Forgive Me Blogger....For I Have Sinned...
It's been thirteen days since my last blog. There are times I don't even know who I am. I am becoming the father I never knew. Working on making the same mistakes that resulted in years of confusion and pain. What's wrong with me? Why can't I just suck it up and do my time? I only have another 15 years to go. Yet I pursue what I can never truly have. And I put so many lives in jeopardy....think about the children. They have a right to a Father. One mistake...indulgence can change their lives forever. Would they forgive me? It doesn't matter. That's not the point. I made my bed, now I must lie in it. If I had only been wiser, more mature, level headed. But the results of my past have brought me two precious souls. Even if the foolishness of being young has trapped me behind bars, their innocent eyes are worthy of my loyalty. Fantasies must remain that...fantasies.
She calls...I answer...I'm a fool.
She calls...I answer...I'm a fool.
Monday, August 02, 2004
The Brother Saga Continues...
I had plans to go see my sister and brother-in-law yesterday. They live in a town about an hour and 45 minutes away. I had built them something and was going to deliver and set it up for them. About ten minutes before I walk out the door, my mother calls all in a panic. She says she can't find my brother and hasn't heard from him in twelve hours.
Normally this wouldn't be a problem, however he has been steadily getting worse in his drug use, and his disposition has become increasingly more aggressive and angry. She said she visited his storage unit, where he has been living, and when she banged on the door and called him there was no answer. It has been very hot the last few weeks, and the little 6 ft. x 8 ft. storage unit has no air flow or cooling. I tried to calm her by saying he may be out getting something to eat, but she insists that if he had left, the top deadbolt would have been locked. He is extremely paranoid and would never leave the place with locking all locks. She's crying asking me what to do. I said that she should give it another hour, and then go back and check again. She then starts off on how she's been having these nightmares where she is hold his lifeless body, while acid bleeds out his eyes and mouth. At this point I have to just tell her to try not to worry because there is no reason to believe he is not alive. I then tell her to call me after she has gone back again to check on him.
Seeing as how my mother and brother both live in the same town as the sister I'm on my way to visit, I decide to drive straight to the storage unit myself. I am of course feeling sick to my stomach thinking the worse on my long drive. Although I would not let on to that while talking to my mother. I've always been the voice of calm and reason in my family. Even if it wasn't how I actually felt.
I had never been to this storage unit, where my brother has been living since being evicted. I parked my car, and walked to the unit number I had gotten from my mother. I banged on the door and called for him. And yes, I noticed the deadbolt was still unlocked. My brother answered me from behind the door. It sounded like I had woken him up from a sleep or something. I said it was me and asked if he was alright. He locked the deadbolt from inside, and said he was fine. I finally convinced him to come out and talk to me. I stood outside for about ten minutes before he came out. He opened the door while climbing over boxes to get out. It was as if he had piled up his stuff against the door. Must be the paranoia. As he walked over to me, I could see the bottoms of his eyes were all black and sunken in, his checks were sunken in and he looked dehydrated. I could nearly see his ribs from the wind blowing his t-shirt against him. He looked terrible, I've never seen him like this before. I tried to talk to him, telling him that mom was worried because he didn't answer her when she came by. He was angry that I was there. He ranted and raved about how everyone treats him as a child and how it's nobody's fucking business what he does or where he is. I told him we care about him, and want to make sure he's OK. I never raised my voice because he was already highly confrontational, and I didn't want him to become violent. This man is not my bother. He is the byproduct of the drug use. I have to keep that in mind. I asked him if he would consider the detox program his doctor suggested. His response was a loud flat out "NO!" I asked why, but he wouldn't give me a reason. I said, "You are at a fork in the road. You have two choices, continue on the current self destructive path you are on, and damn everyone who cares about you. Or enter the detox, clean up your life and have my full support in whatever you do. If you try to help yourself, I will stand behind you and offer any support I can, because I love you and care about you." I thought if I just showed him how I feel, that he would take it into consideration. "Of course you're going to say that, that's the politically correct answer. You'd be an asshole to say anything else!" That was his response. He says everyone is "up in my face" and in the same breath rages on about how bad his life is, how he hates living where he is, and how the company who he has worked for for the past ten years is trying to fire him. Yet me, or anyone else trying to offer him help is "up in his face."
I'm kind of at a loss, I don't know what more I can offer him. I hate to lose him to this life he is leading but I have two young boys who have to be my main priority. They are the ones I must put my energies towards. Besides, it seems as if I have already lost my brother. He is not the same person he was a five years ago, hell, even five months ago. He needs to decide for himself what he wants. I hate this drug shit.
The trip wasn't a total downer, I did get to see my sister. She bought me a new coffee maker. She works for Starbucks and is always giving me coffee and accessories. I stayed overnight at their place, and we all had breakfast in the morning.
So that was my weekend....how was yours?
Normally this wouldn't be a problem, however he has been steadily getting worse in his drug use, and his disposition has become increasingly more aggressive and angry. She said she visited his storage unit, where he has been living, and when she banged on the door and called him there was no answer. It has been very hot the last few weeks, and the little 6 ft. x 8 ft. storage unit has no air flow or cooling. I tried to calm her by saying he may be out getting something to eat, but she insists that if he had left, the top deadbolt would have been locked. He is extremely paranoid and would never leave the place with locking all locks. She's crying asking me what to do. I said that she should give it another hour, and then go back and check again. She then starts off on how she's been having these nightmares where she is hold his lifeless body, while acid bleeds out his eyes and mouth. At this point I have to just tell her to try not to worry because there is no reason to believe he is not alive. I then tell her to call me after she has gone back again to check on him.
Seeing as how my mother and brother both live in the same town as the sister I'm on my way to visit, I decide to drive straight to the storage unit myself. I am of course feeling sick to my stomach thinking the worse on my long drive. Although I would not let on to that while talking to my mother. I've always been the voice of calm and reason in my family. Even if it wasn't how I actually felt.
I had never been to this storage unit, where my brother has been living since being evicted. I parked my car, and walked to the unit number I had gotten from my mother. I banged on the door and called for him. And yes, I noticed the deadbolt was still unlocked. My brother answered me from behind the door. It sounded like I had woken him up from a sleep or something. I said it was me and asked if he was alright. He locked the deadbolt from inside, and said he was fine. I finally convinced him to come out and talk to me. I stood outside for about ten minutes before he came out. He opened the door while climbing over boxes to get out. It was as if he had piled up his stuff against the door. Must be the paranoia. As he walked over to me, I could see the bottoms of his eyes were all black and sunken in, his checks were sunken in and he looked dehydrated. I could nearly see his ribs from the wind blowing his t-shirt against him. He looked terrible, I've never seen him like this before. I tried to talk to him, telling him that mom was worried because he didn't answer her when she came by. He was angry that I was there. He ranted and raved about how everyone treats him as a child and how it's nobody's fucking business what he does or where he is. I told him we care about him, and want to make sure he's OK. I never raised my voice because he was already highly confrontational, and I didn't want him to become violent. This man is not my bother. He is the byproduct of the drug use. I have to keep that in mind. I asked him if he would consider the detox program his doctor suggested. His response was a loud flat out "NO!" I asked why, but he wouldn't give me a reason. I said, "You are at a fork in the road. You have two choices, continue on the current self destructive path you are on, and damn everyone who cares about you. Or enter the detox, clean up your life and have my full support in whatever you do. If you try to help yourself, I will stand behind you and offer any support I can, because I love you and care about you." I thought if I just showed him how I feel, that he would take it into consideration. "Of course you're going to say that, that's the politically correct answer. You'd be an asshole to say anything else!" That was his response. He says everyone is "up in my face" and in the same breath rages on about how bad his life is, how he hates living where he is, and how the company who he has worked for for the past ten years is trying to fire him. Yet me, or anyone else trying to offer him help is "up in his face."
I'm kind of at a loss, I don't know what more I can offer him. I hate to lose him to this life he is leading but I have two young boys who have to be my main priority. They are the ones I must put my energies towards. Besides, it seems as if I have already lost my brother. He is not the same person he was a five years ago, hell, even five months ago. He needs to decide for himself what he wants. I hate this drug shit.
The trip wasn't a total downer, I did get to see my sister. She bought me a new coffee maker. She works for Starbucks and is always giving me coffee and accessories. I stayed overnight at their place, and we all had breakfast in the morning.
So that was my weekend....how was yours?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)