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DAY FOUR: Dear, Father (The Realest Sh** I Ever Wrote) 11/90

Posted by NWSO • September 5, 2008 • Printer-friendly

I decided that this holiday season would be the time that was finally tackled. Maybe Christmas Eve or Day would be good, I'm off work and he should be home, but that day came and went. Perhaps my birthday would be a good day: Turning 31 I'm officially in my 30s and leaving this fear in my 20s would be a great way to start my second childhood. But alas, I spent the day with my brother and the evening with my friends instead. Okay, maybe New Year's day would be a great way to start my year off, but instead I opted for today, a quiet Sunday evening.

As I mustered up the courage, I treated the impending call like an interview. I drafted up a list of questions and points that I needed to have answered. I stared at the time on my computer when I felt the list was complete and took a deep breath and dialed the number—partly hoping he wouldn't answer so I could say that I at least tried and failed and could stuff this chore back on my Focus list for another year, but instead he answered.

"Sam, it's Anslem," I began. Last time we communicated a few weeks earlier, I told him we had nothing to talk about and the call abruptly ended. How dare he actually sound chipper to hear from me. I was focused, stern and to the point. No distractions and small talk, this has been 31 years in the making so I dug right into my list.

1) What's my sister's number? Thanx
2) How old is she? Wow, 36-37
3) How many kids does she have? Five?!?!
4) How many boys, how many girls? Two boys, three girls
5) How old are they? 19, 16, 14, 11, 3?
6) 19? One of them is that old? Yes
7) What's my grandmother's name? Daphne

Ok, this convo is going to smooth, it's time to get to the meat and potatoes; WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?!?! These BS calls don't cut it. The divorce is not an excuse. I DON'T KNOW YOU AND YOU DON"T KNOW ME.

This is when the tears started. As men, we try to hold back tears as much a spossible. We're not supposed to show signs of "weakness" but fuck it this has to come out.

This is when the voice cracks. It's that point where you don't wanna speak because you don't sound yourself. You can barely get the words to spew through your teeth and over your lips. You're crying but you have to push forward. This has to come out.

AGAIN, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?
Ok, the Army blah blah, you were stationed in Vietnam when I was born came back then did a tour in Panama and a shitload of other places. Yeah, I know that story: WHAT ABOUT AFTER THE WAR? AFTER THE DIVORCE?

The truth is there is no answer. That should hurt, but it doesn't. He admits his fuck ups, his absenteeness (is that a word?), and that he was/is a lousy father. Shit, the motherfucker even accepts my tears and acknowledges my hurt. Sure my mother's own hatred of him played a small role in our disconnect but he takes the weight of the blame.

HOLD UP, I AIN'T DONE....WHY DID YOU LET ME, YOUR SON, TRAVEL ACROSS COUNTRY AFTER 10 YEARS OF NOT SEEING ME, EAT ALONE IN A FUCKIN SUBWAYS. I ATE A FUCKIN TUNA SUB. A FUCKIN SUB.

There is no answer. Alcoholism plays a part. Shit, it's probably the root of all this shit, but you know what Pop? This has to come out.

That shit hurt. Listen to my voice. Listen to my pain. I don't have a father. You died in my eyes that day. You had an opportunity to know me and you squandered it. Your promises for the years that followed were all hollow. You've been sending me you will for 8 years before it actually came. OS your words mean nothing to me. Your word is not your bond. You don't know me and I don't know you. SO WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!?!? Cause I don't want anything from you but answers.

DIALOGUE.....COMMUNICATION.... HONESTY.....

During the course of our hourlong conversation, we cover a lot of bases. I even get a 3-way call with my sister Patricia. That shit is weird. Not only are there cultural differences with her being raised an dliving in the Caribbean and me being raised States side, this is a person I have no physical connection to outside of geneology. She is a stranger to me and talking to strangers over the phone is hard/awkward and I'm a person who hates awkwardness and being uncomfortable. Still, DIALOGUE.....COMMUNICATION.... HONESTY.....

Birthdays, ages, names confirmed and numbers exchanged. Promises to continue speaking in the near future.... Now back to Sam.

WHO AM I? WHAT DOES OUR NAME MEAN? WHO ARE MY UNCLES/AUNTS? WHERE ARE THEY?

All in all, my family is bigger than I ever knew. 5 nieces and nephews, 4 Uncles and Aunts spread out throught the US (I never knew I had family in the South). Shit is all a mind fuck. A much needed mind fuck.

DIALOGUE.....COMMUNICATION.... HONESTY.....

This point would not have come (not now) if not for the various friends I've opened up to and spoken to. I THANK Y'ALL SOOOO MUCH for listening to my rants about him and giving me the strength and guidance. You are the ones that pushed me to do this, not just for me, but for my future children and my own sanity. I always feared my father would die before I got to confront him and he'd escape my wrath. I thought that all I wanted was to just curse him out and get it off my chest and continue to live my life without him. "I'm too old for a father," I always said. part of me still feels that way. He and I probably never will be friends, but letting this out into the open makes him less of a nusiance to me. Someone I can actually dialogue with, communicate with and be honest with. At times I felt what I had bottled up would cut him deep if revealed, but he understands his faults and takes on the responsibility for his inaction.

I don't know what's next. There's supposed to be a face to face dialogue in the near future. There's supposed to me more communication. Healing takes a while. I'm still hurt, but now my heart has a little more space. I little more room. But beyond speaking with my father I understand/know that the next step is for me to take. I have to call my sister. I have to build a relationship and eventually travel down to Grenada to see her and the kids. SCARY SHIT. I have to forgive SOME of my father's transgressions, but sure as hell NOT FORGET EM. I have to continue to DIALOGUE.....COMMUNICATE.... and most importantly be HONEST.....

My life.... A WORK STILL IN PROGRESS

PS
Pardon any typos or grammatical errors, I wrote this one direct from the heart, y'all...

UPDATE: Whew! Man, I almost cried on the train when I wrote that nine months ago, and I almost cried right now rereading that. It just took me back to that moment in time. Although the conversation went better than I expected, I still have many issues with my father. He actually called me last weekend and caught me on the phone. Most times he calls from a blocked number and I wind up not answering and I can't recall the last time I actually returned one of his calls. I just have to be in the mood to speak with him because I often feel the anger welling up within me when we speak, and if he calls me when I'm at work, out with friends, etc. that's just not the mental space I want to go in to. Since our talk, though, I've learned to tolerate him when he does catch me on the phone.

This past weekend he called and I was too wrapped up in my weekend to really hold a conversation with him. Still, he kept me on the phone for a good 20-30 minutes, while I merely made the occasional "uh-huh" or "okay" remark. Afterwards, I was just happy to be off the phone and back to my life. But as I entered this fast I began to realize that merely venting my frustrations on the phone nine-months ago was not enough. If I want to have a relationship, no matter how fragile, with my father, I had to make a better effort. He's shown remorse and does reach out, I just don't respond and that's not fair.

I've spoken to my older sister maybe two or three more times since that call as well, and I have to make a better effort to build that relationship as well. Me and my brother, who also has the same father, are supposed to travel to Grenada with my father at some point to meet our sister and nieces and nephews. That was supposed to happen this summer, schedule permitting, but I somehow wound up in Aruba instead. I gotta do better, y'all. I can't be the kind of uncle that Sam was to me as a father—neglectful and inattentive.

I'm still a work in progress and I know that I have to meet this man halfway more often. It's not healthy and it's not fair. I can't promise that I'll have a civil conversation with Sam today, tomorrow or the day after, but I know that I have to—I know that I will.

To be continued...

The Blog Marathon continues with the Evening Epilogue later today and three new blogs a day throughout the weekend. Stay tuned...

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Tagged as: 30 in 30 Pt 2, crying, fasting, father, phone conversation, Ramadan, rocky relationship

http://thecocoaluvchronicles.blogspot.com/ The Cocoa Luv Chronicles

Like I told you the other day, you are really inspirational. After I read you blog about your dad in 07, I started a letter that I never finished. It's a work in progress as am I. One day I will get the strength to write the letter. I guess now I have a lot of anger and I am just trying to work on that before I bring it to him.

Thanks A
http://nakedwithsockson.blogspot.com/2008/09/brandonsportfolio.blogspot.com chapzilla

thanks for sharing homie
distinguishedgentlewoman

This is like the song "Cats in the Cradle." The lyrics are very profound. I often think about my brother when I listen to the lyrics of this song.

Cats in the Cradle
My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew
He'd say "I'm gonna be like you dad
You know I'm gonna be like you"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home dad?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

My son turned ten just the other day
He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let's play
Can you teach me to throw", I said "Not today
I got a lot to do", he said, "That's ok"
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah
You know I'm gonna be like him"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

Well, he came home from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
"Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?"
He shook his head and said with a smile
"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

I've long since retired, my son's moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind"
He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time
You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu
But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad
It's been sure nice talking to you"

And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He'd grown up just like me
My boy was just like me

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then
Yaminah

Wow. I'm blown away to read a black man reveal his true feelings and be vulnerable in front of strangers. I believe this is how we can really begin healing our community. Thanks for sharing.
Jenga

Good job, man. That was a huge step. And I can relate to the giving-him-the-cold-shoulder attitude. I did that for a while too. I justified it because he never apologized for anything. But I later realized (and I guess this comes with life experience, maturity, therapy, etc.) that I didn't want to be that kind of person, and that I couldn't blame him for my behavior. I guess it just takes time.

I'm really enjoying reading your blog. Maybe "enjoy" is the wrong word, when you've been writing a lot about pain. But I think that only a minority of us actually look critically at ourselves and consciously decide to make changes and live INTENTIONALLY. So I admire you for doing that and sharing it with all your readers.
http://jesustalkz.blogspot.com/ Jesus Talks

deep post. I don't if I could have dealt with that situation any other way. The anger/pain you felt was justifiable.
Anonymous

First off, "Cat's in the Cradle" is the perfect soundtrack for this post. I love that song, but I always end up sobbing or changing the station before it ends.

As for the post itself ... damn, homie. I could have written that, but I've already decided I don't want my dad in my life. Neglect is one thing, but abuse is another, and I have room in my life for neither anymore. I literally felt the pain in this post. It was visceral. Wow. Keep writing and rising above. You have my support.
Hope2Star

Amazing post! Thank you so much for sharing. (I also thought of "Cat's in the Cradle" when I read it.)
Mike D

Really amazing story. Confronting the major emotional traumas is the hardest possible moment in many peoples lives.

Although it was under different circumstances I confronted my abusive step father recently and it was so freeing. I screamed at him uncontrollably, cried and almost took a swing at him. He was slightly remorseful and sort of ashamed but it still felt great to get it off my chest.

The pain we feel as children is the hardest to purge, I don't think it ever will completely disolve. Feeling your emotions and not letting them affect your relationships is the most important thing we can do for ourselves and for our future and current children.
andrea s

wow, just wow. i read this linked from you most recent blog, i am absolutely in tears...
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http://nwso.net/ NWSO

Appreciate the feedback, sis. Was a tough one to write.
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