Damn you George Michael!!

I know I've briefly touched on the subject of my father and I, but I feel like with Father's Day coming up and all, a post is due. This whole post comes at an odd time actually. Two other blogs I follow have touched on this subject recently and also I've been hanging out with my half brother (who looks just like my dad) a lot. I guess this is my "tribute" to the man I called "daddy" as a child. This is probably my most vulnerable post.

I remember the day my parents told me they were getting divorced like it was yesterday. Actually, I remember that day better than I remember yesterday. I was at my friend Frankie's house playing. She had the life I envied. Every toy imaginable, a mom who whore polyester pants with matching plaid shirts (I think that warrants a whole post of it's own), and a birthmark right in the middle of her forehead. We were the best of friends and I spent a ton of time at her house. When my dad came to pick me up I did the usual "please daddy, can I stay just a little bit longer? p-p-p-lease?" plead and as always I was told no but this time was different. This time I didn't argue because I felt the pain in his voice. Something was going on. Even at 6 years old I could feel it. I grabbed my stuff and got in the car. We had a silent ride home.

I walked into our house and my baby sister wasn't there. By baby I mean she was 2. She's still a baby to me at 22. My mom had just gotten out of the shower and was in a robe with her hair in a towel. They both sat me down and told me what was going to happen. Without skipping a beat I said ok and started for the door. I just wanted to be alone in my room. They were both crying and it was so uncomfortable. If they were both crying, why were they doing this? "Where are you going?" my dad asked. I replied that I just wanted to go to my room but was forced back to sitting in the middle of them on their bed. It was probably the most awkward moment of my life.

The next few months were a shit show. I met my dads new girlfriend with her huge ass hair and 80's attire. She had a son a year younger than me who was ok. We played Nintendo's track game and actually were neck and neck the whole time. Ok, so I have a brother now. My sister, mom and I moved around quite a bit trying to find our "niche". Only months later my dad got re-married while Kylee and I were conveniently out of town. I remember being so pissed that he didn't want us to be a part of that. After that we probably saw our dad 3 times a year. I tried to understand. I mean, his new son had soccer practice, extra-curricular classes because he was some sort of genius and eye appointments because Einstein was apparently blind.

Meanwhile, my life consisted of making sure Kylee was up, fed, and ready for school along with coffee being ready and my mom being awake for when it was time for her to drive us to school. I took it upon myself to assume the role as mother. My mom had a business to run along with a job on the side to make extra money. She was exhausted with trying to be Super Woman for her girls so I tried helping as much as I could.

Every time my dad would call, all he'd brag about was my step-brother and what he was doing and how life was in the city, blah, blah, blah. I think this is where I started to resent him. I realized that he left the family he started to be involved with another one. I was always a daddy's girl growing up so I still held on to that fact. I was always out in the carport with him while he worked on his cars asking questions and trying to figure out what he was doing so I could be closer to him. Sitting on that milk crate in his green Dodge Dart while we took it for a test drive will forever be my favorite memory but after he left, it was never the same.

When I moved up to Salt Lake we became closer. My apartment was 3 blocks away from his work. I'd walk down and we'd have lunch. He'd talk to me about his life and how unhappy he was. How he had made a mistake but felt like he couldn't leave because there was no way he'd go through another divorce. I'd plead and beg and promise that I'd do whatever it took to help him. I'd move in with him, cook, clean, do laundry, whatever it took but it always ended the same. He wasn't leaving.

Once I was engaged I felt like it was appropriate to become closer to my father because with marriage usually comes children. I wanted him to be part of it all. Him and his wife would come over for BBQs and we'd drink, laugh, and be merry but there was always something just.....off. Finally I asked if they'd both come over and talk to me and just get everything out in the open so we could get over it all and be open and happy. Let me just say, that day was the biggest display of deceit and betrayal in a marriage that I have ever seen. It basically came down to everybody just wiping the slate clean.

I tried. I really tried but I couldn't do it. When I'd call my dad, I'd have to coach myself for at least 30 minutes just to do it and it would usually end in tears. I sat there while my fiance and little step-daughter would console me and as I looked at her little face seeing me crying, it hit me. She is probably so hurt by seeing me cry as I was that day my parents told me they were splitting up. It was her little face that made me decide I wasn't going to let him have this effect on me.

We talked a few more times and I asked what I could to to fix things between everyone. I was willing to do anything. His only reply was that he thought that there had been too many hurt feelings and that it was basically a lost cause. He had thrown in the towel. What other choice did I have?

My Gramoo will still take little jabs thinking that will persuade me into calling him but the answer is always the same. I've done everything I can. I've swallowed my pride, I've forgotten how he's treated me, my sister, and my mother, what else can I do?

Whenever I hear the following song, I always imagine that it's how my dad felt when he left. Maybe it's true and maybe it's not. Either way, I'm not bitter towards my dad. Maybe I could (or should) be but I have to believe he's always had the best of intentions. Who knows. That wasn't a question.