So I have two theories on my dad; and by dad I mean my biological father.
I think he is a piece of shit to my sister and I. I feel he has no care, nor desire or fight to be a part of my life. I blame my step-mom for the majority of it, but at the same time, he is his own person and I feel it is his fault. I think he is a coward. And a deadbeat. Cruel, but true.
And then I see the side of him, that reflects in me. His artistic nature, his passion for [most of] those around him. His love to cook, and those wrinkles in his forehead he gets when he makes the faces. I have those too. His round blue eyes, and the way he used to sing me to sleep when I was younger. Much younger.
I was talking to my dad (my step dad) the other day about it. I realized i have no positive memories of him, after the age of, oh I don’t know, 8? Actually, I retract; The last positive memory I have of Sam was when my Papa passed away. the amount of compassion and empathy he had for me, still moves me. Regardless, I am 25. And the last positive memory of Sam was when my Papa passed away. When I was in 7th grade at the age of 13. How….. ridiculous.
I did inherit my love and ability of music from him though. I remember being younger, like 4, and him playing the piano or guitar as I am dancing around to the Shirley Temple songs that I just couldn’t get enough of after visiting my Papa. Man, I miss my Papa.
You know, I strongly feel that if it wasn’t for that man, I wouldn’t know Sam. He would have backed out years and years ago when he found his wife, and had their kids. That’s when he disappeared on us. After he had his new family. And I hold an immense amount of resentment towards him for that.
I resent his inability to parent me and be there for me. I am betrayed that he never showed up for my award ceremonies, or soccer games. Or dance.
Dance….dancing is my passion. My whole entire heart is filled with the joy of my child and dancing. The way my body moves to emote the anger and hurt. I think that could be why I love it so much. I emote. I express. I never realized how healing and therapeutic dance was/could be for me until my Papa passed. I went to rehearsal the next day, a little sulky, and spoke with my teacher. She pulled me aside during warm up and stretch and told me how to use my emotion to portray the story in dance. I had danced for 11 years at that point, and had never realized that dance was the oxygen to my life. That day, in class, was probably one of the most emotional for me yet.
Back on track! He was never there. Sam forgot me at school more than my hands can count. He would agree and promise, and then fail to follow through. He was so disingenuous with his actions and words to my sister and I- I just kind of lost hope in him. I lost hope in having my dad. How sad.
Two major events, I remember vividly. At daycare one day, it was a Friday and my mom had let us know Sam would be picking us up. Obviously excited, 6pm rolls around, timing to 630p and then 645. Around 7pm (30 minutes after the daycare has closed) my uncle walks in and we leave with him. Still being young, I asked where Sam was, Richard mentioned he was picking us up later, and we carried on. Still excited I might add that our uncle picked us up- because kids are like that. Getting excited about the small things.
Dinner time rolls around….bedtime rolls around and low and behold at 1145pm Sam RINGS THE DOORBELL. Sister and I jump out of bed, waltz into the living room and are immediately instructed to go back into our room. Sam showed up almost 5 1/2 hours late, drunk….to pick us up. Nice one. Needless to say, we spent the night with my grandmother.
Another time, my dad takes me to dance practice. Super big deal by the way, because its the first night for Daddy Daughter Act dance practice and Sam was going to join me. (Right? haha.) I go through my normal set of classes….and into the first 15 minutes of DDA practice….still…no Sam. I called my dad and he was already downstairs. Like he even knew he needed to be there for me. Sam never showed up…to any of those practices. I danced for 19 years and the man only came to ONE recital.
My dad, he stepped up and he stepped in. He didn’t have to, but he wanted to. He was always there, and still is. That man has never let me down.
The more so pathetic part of all this, is Sam has three other children. I love my brothers and sisters, so very and incredibly much. But it is so hard at some points, to not envy them for the fact that he is there for them. Never missed a band show, soccer game, basketball or dance practice for any of them. He takes them hunting, he takes them on family vacations and never once invited us. Call it envy or call it hurt. I still struggle with those emotions, and not resenting them [my brothers and sister] for that. I get angry that He can be there for those kids at the drop of a dime. I may be over-reacting and dramatizing the situation in whole in this aspect, but how do I have a sister, who does dance and cheer and anything else that could possibly make her happy, and he is there for HER. He never lets HER down. He put her in dance, she almost has my name, she is the “baby”, and here I am. Its like she copies me. Ridiculous and immature sounding I am sure, but it sucks.
We would have to ask to come over, even on the weekends that we were supposed to be there. I had to ask sam if I could come over to his house because I missed him. His response…”Let me ask your step-mom,” generally leading to “Oh we have plans, not this weekend.”
Bitterness is starting to takeover.
My ending moment with Sam was Easter weekend of 2013. I was 23 years old at this point. A grown woman. He sent out a text to sister and I saying Easter dinner at his house..blah blah blah, and would love for the kids and us to come. I replied back to him saying I didn’t have Addie but would love to be there…what time? He told me never mind.
Yes, when he found out I wouldn’t have my child….he didn’t want me there. Ouch.
I have attempted to go to counseling with him. He never showed up. I have set up dinner dates, or times to meet him at his house to talk through things. Bailed.
He is my flesh and blood. But he is not my dad. I have a dad who loves me, cares about me and supports me.
In 2007 I was in a pretty horrific car accident. fractured my L spine and C spine, had to be care-flighted to the hospital. My seatbelt broke, and I flew out my car. The entire way to the hospital, according to dr’s, I was screaming for my daddy. Once in the hospital, Sam walked into the room, I looked at him and said no, I want my daddy.
That says a lot to me. I have no recollection of that. None at all.
About three weeks ago, I was walking to my car at lunch, fell in the parking lot and started seizing. Again, in the ambulance…I was crying for my daddy.
The one man I need in my life, and he has NEVER once left me. He has never passed me off or broken a promise to be there for me. He has always stepped up and filled the void I had for a long time. I am such a daddy’s girl. I am such a lucky girl.
Going back to the conversation I had the other day with my dad, we were talking about him legally adopting me, as an adult. I want to legally have his last name. I want to have him as my dad on paper. I want him to legally give me away when I get married. Although I use Long for everything, I want my driver’s license to say it. I want my w-2’s and my paystubs to say it. And it will.
Anyway, we were addressing concerns with doing such, and his biggest concern is that I am doing this for the wrong reasons. Out of spite and anger; to get back at Sam. And I get that. But that’s not why, those aren’t my reasons.
Then he asked if something happened to Sam, how would I feel. And I just sat for a few moments and pondered.
I don’t think it would affect me to be frank. I know, I say that now. But honestly, how could it. I have not had this man in my life at all for how many years? When I have needed him to catch me fall and save me, the times I went running to him, hoping he would just hold me…he wasn’t there. He chose not to be there. I can’t be sad. I can’t hurt. I honestly don’t even think I have anything to say to him. I don’t have love for him. I have nothing from him or for him. He has given me nothing but anger, and emotional issues and sadness. Hurt, Sam has given me so much hurt.
I was over on his part of town about two months ago…and ran into the store. There he was. And he just looked at me, then kept walking.
And that’s exactly what I am doing. I am just going to keep walking.
I have EVERYTHING I need for a dad, and more.
For any of the family on his side, you may not agree. You may not believe and that is all you. He used sister and I as a trophy. He bragged about us and our accomplishments. He shared our pictures on Facebook and claimed to be so proud of us, yet never called or text. Never made an effort.
The man never fought for me.
I have such a struggle with allowing people into my life that don’t fight for me. I am so reckless with my actions sometimes, because I allow the struggle to win. And I am done with that.
I have given Addison’s dad HELL because I am so afraid of her being treated and forgotten by him like I was. (Sorry JP but you know my struggles and issues on this)
My dad shattered my heart. Subconciously, he broke me. And there is a huge, concrete and hardened wall of stone around me because of that.
I don’t hate, but if I did, I would hate him. Instead, I am going to thank him. I thank him for the strength I have gained, the wisdom and self power. And I thank him for walking away so my daddy could walk in.