Dear Dad,
I know you'll never read this. Just like I now know we'll never be as close as I want us to be. For years, I've tried. I've tried to hang out with you, to talk to you, but to no avail. You've hardly remember any of our conversations, let alone our arguments. Your concern for my well-being gave way to your drinking and relationships. I was your backseat daughter.
I use to dream about us, during better times. We'd talk and laugh together. There was no alcohol or other woman to worry about. I admit, I was jealous of the attention you showered them with. It's funny how you would tell me that they were jealous of us. Us? What did we have?
There was one thing you did right; you married my mother. Remember, Lisa? Your second wife? The only woman who treated me as her own. Who took care of me? Who made sure I wasn't disappointed during holidays? Do you know that while you sit in your 5 bedroom home, she still lives paycheck to paycheck because she loved us? Because you thought you were doing her a favor by leaving her the house. You owed her so much more than that. She practically raised your daughter. Did you ever send her money during those times?
Life was rough for her, but she never complained. At least not to me. She would hide her tears and put on a smile, even when I was horrible to her. She let me come back into her life, even when I chose materialistic things over being with her. She tried to be in my life, even after I shunned her because of the guilt of what I had done. That's what a real parent does.
She never bad mouthed you when I was with her. She doesn't hate you. She even tries to explain why you are the way you are, to me.
When you look back on it all, I wonder how you feel. It can't be anything bad, because you're still not here. Do you remember where you were during all those important events? Was it worth it?
This isn't how it was suppose to be. I missed out.
But so did you.
Father of mine, tell me where have you been?
Friends in High Places
I timidly seated myself at my assigned desk. I took a glimpse around at all the faces, most seemingly familiar with one another. I took a deep breath and told myself to relax; computer class was my element, after all.
As the bell rang, a slender young man, with black spiky hair meandered in. He slid comfortably into the desk in front of me, with an infectious smile for our teacher, forcing her to forget her annoyance at his tardiness. I instantly adored him, but was much too shy to talk to him.
The next day, we were shown our assigned computers and instructed to sit in them. I was thrilled that the teacher went by alphabetical order because I would be placed next to Matt. He smiled at me as he took his seat.You know it's the anniversary of Kurt Cobain's death? he asked me. I nodded, though I really wasn't even sure who he was yet. He continued; He'd still be around if that bitch Courtney Love hadn't killed him!
The teacher hushed him while I giggled like the school girl I was.
I was happy to find that I had several classes with him, including gym, which I hadn't known because he had skipped the first few days. We would spend our time goofing around, because neither one of us was very athletic. The closer I got with him, the more I revealed.
He became all too aware of my home life and the anger I bottled up. He showed me it was okay to be angry and to think some of the awful thoughts I had, but also showed me a lot about letting it go. He always told me, "It's all good."
He took me to my first party. And probably my second and third. He made sure I was okay, without being overbearing, and even if he had been, it wouldn't have mattered. He watched out for everyone.
There were times during our short friendship that I would flee to his house, after an argument with a boyfriend. He always made me feel better and helped me not beat myself up about it. He wasn't afraid to hold me or to rub my back, telling me it would be alright. And I always believed him, because with him, it was all good.
He was an old soul, in a newer body.
He was always attentive and romantic in the relationships he had. Still, he had a way of making people feel very special without making anyone feel left out.
On August 31, 2008, Matt was shot in front of his home. He leaves behind his wife, married in June 2005, his daughter, born in March 2008, his parents, grandparents, and his older brother and sister, along with many, many friends.
Dear Matt,
Thank you. Thank you, for all the you have given me. For all that you've done. I've always been so proud of you and proud to be your friend. My only regret in life is that I lost touch with you, only to find out it's too late. I hope you knew in life and after, that you always had a place in my heart. I miss you so much and hope that everyone could have a friend like you in their life. You are so special to so many people. I'll never forget you and the important role you played in my life. I'll keep you and your family in my prayers.
I love you,
me xo
All that is now, all that is gone, all that's to come, and everything under the
sun is in tune, but the sun is eclipsed by the moon. - Pink Floyd, Eclipse
Life is too short, so love the one you got. Cause you might get run
over, or you might get shot. - Sublime, What I Got
Chapter 26: Please Hear My Prayer
I started hanging out with a friend of mine. We had a small party at his house, since his mom was gone. We ended up crashing there.
The next day, over breakfast, we all discussed what was the plan for the day. I was shocked when he said quite simply,
I have Alateen tonight at 7, but we can chill afterwards.
This sparked a memory of my mom and I. I had been pretty young at the time when she had taken me to a small place that held a few rooms. When we entered, the smoke haze overwhelmed us, but we continued on. I took a seat next to my mom, when a woman spoke.
Welcome to Al-Anon.
I had never remembered those meetings until now. I don't think it had ever registered with me that my dad is an alcoholic until that day. Even during the time he quit and went to AA, I still never consider it that serious.
My friend invited me along and despite my nerves, I wanted to. Later that day, I went to my dad.
Dad, can I got to Alateen with a friend tonight?
Why? Who do you think is an alcoholic? His response surprised me and made me a little nervous.
I responded quickly, stating that grandma and grandpa were indeed alcoholics. While it was true, they were definitely not as severe as my dad was. He did seem to find this an acceptable answer and let me go.
I stuck by my friend the entire time. Everyone was so nice but I was completely overwhelmed by the number of people in one little house. It saddened me to know that so many others were going through what I was.
For the first time in a long time, I felt accepted. Not alienated, not abnormal, not ashamed. And though I never had the courage to ask my dad to go back, I'll always remember all the teenagers, from 13-18, holding hands, in prayer;
God
Grant me the Serenity
To accept the things I cannot change
Courage to change the things I can
And the Wisdom to know the difference…
Chapter 25: Not So Cool
(Sorry it's been a while. It's getting a lot harder to write about, since this stuff is more recent.)
It was difficult going through relationships. My father and I didn't exactly have the best relationship and I was unaware of the abandonment issues I had. This made an otherwise cool girl to hang out with, a little clingy.
Since I was always trying to please my dad, I took that trait into many parts of my life, including relationships with boys. It was inevitable that I would be heartbroken, time and time again. I wish I had talked to my mother about them; she always has a some what of a neutral stance when it comes to any kind of relationship.
Junior year was better than the year before. I started to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I tried to do damage control around the house before anything escalated; for example, I started keeping up with my own laundry.
My mom had taught me to do my own laundry way before I moved in with my dad and his third wife. Still, Cassy would come into my room during the first two years of high school to "clean". Part of this was my laundry. I might have appreciated the help, if she hadn't ruined most of my black wardrobe with bleach, or destroyed shirts that were meant to be line dry.
It didn't matter, though. She still went into my room as much as she wanted. I basically moved all my personal things in my backpack, purse, or locker. My journal was kept wedged between the mattresses. Sometimes I felt like a prisoner, the way I horded food. I had already started smoking cigarettes, so I actually did trade those for certain things when I was low on cash.
I saved as much as I could, though. It was still bad enough at home where I thought about leaving every day. My dad was actually drinking more. He switched from boozin' out on beer to whiskey and scotch.
For a long time, my dad was seen as the cool dad. My friends loved him. He talked about anything, because he was almost always drunk when they came around. I wouldn't say I ever got embarrassed by him, since even as much as he was drinking, it still wasn't enough to make him that drunk. I mean, he still had a job, in which he frequently worked overtime. Most of the overtime was at home, but you really don't hear too much about functioning alcoholics.
That year, something changed. I'm not sure if it was him or me, but I started looking at him a little differently. Sometimes it felt like I was battling something within; resentment vs. loyalty. And at the time, loyalty always won.
Chapter 24: Summer of Love...
I took care of myself. I bought my own clothes and got my dinners from my work, usually taking extra so I'd have something over the weekend. Cassy was good for her memory; she always remembered to put more money into my school lunch card and sometimes, when she was in a good mood, she'd ask me what I wanted from the grocery store. I always asked for after school snacks.
I quit my job at the end of Sophomore year because I had been sexually harassed by some of the staff members there. I ended up working at a well known salon, though to my dismay, the hours were shorter. Still, I loved the people who worked there.
I dumped my loser boyfriend that cheated on me with some other woman, which was just as well, since he was much too old for me. Somewhere along the lines, something clicked for me, and I knew I needed to get away from the crowd that was drowning me. I started to learn that just because I was intoxicated, it didn't make my problems go away. In fact, they were making them worse.
My dad and Cassy were unhappy with my grades, but, surprisingly, I wasn't grounded. I resented them, though. They would bitch about my grades, yet offer little help, even after I told them that science had always been my hardest subject.
My German Club talked about taking a trip to Germany during the summer and I was thrilled. This was my chance to get away, to see the world. To not get sucked back into the party scene during the idle summer days. I somehow got my dad to come to a meeting. He said he would think about it, that it was probably affordable, even if it would make things a little tight. He hyped me up about it but whenever I broached the subject, his answer was always wishy-washy.
I spent that summer sneaking out the window of my two story apartment building, drinking, and hanging out with a new boyfriend, who sometimes snuck in to my house. Eventually, I got caught with that one, and was grounded for a month. I still got to talk on the phone so I tried to continue my relationship with the boy I adored. I think my dad knew how head over heels I was for him, which was why he let me talk to him on the phone during my punishment. Still, he was growing distant.
Being grounded meant being home when my dad came home from bars. Sometimes when he'd come home, I'd pretend I was sleeping for a while, keeping my lights and my t.v. off. Sometimes he'd come in and he'd hash out everything that I'd done to turn him gray. Sometimes he'd talk about Cassy and how she'd made him turn gray. Once in a while he'd get me to talk, but most of the time, I kept my comments to myself.
I was looking forward to a trip I had planned with me friend, in place of my trip to Germany. We were going to California to visit her dad but we'd get to have our own space. I was counting the days until there was sand between my toes.
One day my dad asked me to get dressed to go to dinner. I told him I didn't want to, but he pushed me, so I knew something was up. Turns out, my friends had approached him about throwing me a surprise birthday party before we left, and my dad agreed. On top of that, my dad let me off punishment a week early, probably to Cassy's dismay. She was not around when my dad told me the exciting news.
I went to my surprise party and had a fabulous time, even with the absence of the much adored boyfriend.
Chapter 23: A Knife In The Heart
Sophomore year was the hardest year for me. The classes were tough, but my newfound distraction of partying was also affecting me. I got into some pretty heavy stuff for a 15 year old girl, which affected my grades.
I lied a lot. Even if I didn't have to lie, I did. I just didn't care anymore. I didn't have any respect for Cassy, let alone my dad, who always had a drink in his hand. It always seemed like they were lying to me, too.
Still, for all the wrong things I was getting into, I managed to start saving money. I wanted out as quickly as possible. I knew I would sacrifice a lot just for freedom; like college education.
I was depressed. I had all these raging emotions and no way to channel them. I wasn't involved in sports or any other extra curricular activity besides choir and German club. Those two things made me happy, though.
My dad came to my choir concerts. Cassy did, at first, then my dad told me that she thought I didn't want her to come. I had no reply to this, so she never came to one again. And even though I tried not to give up my hopes of finally spending time with my dad, I was still crushed when he rushed off after a concert, while everyone else was still mingling. Still, at least he was coming. Before high school, he never came to any of my concerts.
One night, when my emotions were running high, I went into the living room to talk with my dad. Cassy was at school or work. I should have turned around right away when I knew he was drunk, but my emotions pushed me forward. They were so out of control, I just wanted to be held.
I don't remember my exact words, but I said something along the lines of being depressed. I never came out and asked him for help, but I told him I was very sad. Then he said something that has stuck with me;
If you're going to kill yourself, MissB, just do it and stop talking about it.
For years, I tried to justify that for him just being drunk. He probably doesn't even remember that he said that. But those words feel like a fresh wound anytime my depression overcomes me. Out of everything else, those words have stayed with me much longer then I've wanted them to.
Chapter 22: Feeling Cheap
By the time my sophomore year came around, I had a job and my hair was black and purple, with my dad's permission. I started hanging out with the "wrong" crowd and got myself involved with a guy that was way too old for me in high school. I started going out more and more, just so I wouldn't be at home.
Anything that would happen at home, I would blame Cassy for. It didn't matter whether or not she did it, anymore. I would never believe her even if she'd denied it, but she never did. Mostly, I avoided confrontations though and tried to "fix" things myself. Once, I found out that she had been using my deodorant, so I kept that one in the bathroom and a friend's mom bought me two more, one to keep in my room and one in my locker at school.
At one point, I tried to branch out of my little 10x12 room, and hang out in the living room. I would take my magazines out there or a book, but anything I had was always put back in my room. It was clearly not my space.
Occasionally, I would find something broken that had been mishandled and I would either fume by myself or explode when my dad came home. Every passing day, I was getting more bold and righteous.
My dad started to drink more and more. He would stay up till the early hours of the morning, drinking and playing his guitar. It started out as just weekend, but the more my dad and Cassy argued, the more he stayed up, weekdays included. This affected my sleep, as my bedroom wall was shared with the living room. And when he stayed up on weekends, Cassy's OCD would kick in, and she'd be vacuuming at 7:30 in the morning.
Cassy was all about saving money, too, despite the fact that she had 1.5 jobs and was going to school. My dad was the bread-winner, though, making way more then she did. I'm sure a good portion of that was eaten up by alcohol and cigarettes.
During that winter, she always kept the heat down. It was fine for them, since they were triple my weight, but I was always freezing, whether or not I had a sweater on. One night I asked my dad to turn the heat up and this apparently instigated another argument between them. The next day, Cassy took me shopping, and bought me tons of sweaters and a heating blanket. That was the only time they ever bought me clothes, besides underwear at Christmas.
The thing that bothered me the most was that I was always stuck with the cheap crap. Cassy always had the nicer things, like the nice razors (with shaving cream!), nice toilet paper, nice shampoo and conditioner (while she was watering my Suave-which cost 99 cents for you non-locals). A lot of these things felt petty enough not to bring up with my dad, but all of it together started to make me feel worthless.
