Deadbeat Dad - Part One of Three
My Uncle called me to let me know that my dad would soon be passing away. I got to the nursing home as soon as I could. I was a little shocked to find out the nursing staff did not even know that he had a daughter but I supposed in hindsight I should not have been.
We had been estranged for a few years by then but it was not because I did not love my dad. I have loved him since I can remember and that had never changed.
Mom and Dad were married for over five years before I was born. I was their second child, daughter in fact. My older sister was premature and only lived for twenty four hours.
By the time I was three, my parents separated and were divorced just weeks before my fifth birthday. I do not recall having regular visitations with my father. In fact, he came to see or pick me up when he felt like it.
My mother never said a bad word about dad to me. I wish I could say the same for him. I often heard how she expected him to support her with child support. The truth of the matter is he only paid it a handful of times when the state forced him to work and do so.
Dad’s misuse of drinking and drugs is what caused my parents to divorce. Prior to that, he had a good job, was a good husband and father. I do not know where it all went wrong for him; I just know that it did.
The changes in his personality when he was using were night and day. When straight; he was mild mannered, quiet and nice. When using; he was wild, loud and obnoxious.
Despite it all, I was just a little girl who loved her father. I was always happy when he would call or come to see me. Dad did not take me often, at least not until he got a steady girlfriend.
There is a short time I can remember fairly regular visitation when they were a new couple. However, their relationship was rocky due to the poor choices they made so it became an off and on again relationship. The visitations followed that same pattern.
This went on until I was fifteen. My dad called me out of the blue one day to tell me they were moving to Georgia. I was hurt by the news and my teenage self was furious. I guess it somehow validated the abandonment I already felt by him.
They moved, I got use to it and life went on as it always had. A couple of years later, they broke up for the last time and my father became a homeless drifter for a few years.
He would do strange things; like mail me one of his teeth with a poorly spelled letter, attempting to tell me how he had lost it. To be honest, I did not know rather to laugh or cry.
I have Dad's twisted sense of humor but who sends a tooth to their daughter!? At the end of the day, I just took it as his strange way of trying to make a connection with me.
To be continued...
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