My father that is. I was reading a wonderful book by a Christian author named Karen Kinsgbury titled One Tuesday Morning last night. I was just finishing up, and was very emotional. Then one of the characters said something about seeing his father that he hadn't seen in years because life is too short, I thought about mine.
So I course I knew it was only God Who could've crossed our paths the next morning!
The sad thing is, we were just 2 cars passing on the road, but I saw him and he didn't see me. Still when the words left my so naturally saying, 'Wow, that was my father. I'm gonna have to go see him soon', I lost it!! Before I knew it, there were tears welling up in my eyes. I was breaking down fast.
I thought I was over that man. I thought just shutting him out of my life was working. Then when I found out he had throat cancer, I even accepted the fact that he would not be alive much longer. It was a bit of a relief because then I wouldn't have to deal with it for too much longer. But seeing him just brought it all back. The monumental disappointment and hurt and heartbrokeness that has evolved into anger after so many years...it's back. I can't even say I love him, I am so pissed at him for screwing me up the way he did! For making me feel never good enough. For showing me that I didn't mean more to him than someone else's child did. For us never having any kind of real relationship. Just anger is all that remains. So my logic is, if the mere existence of someone makesyou feel bad everytime you see them, then you cut them out of your life. Who wants to voluntarily be mad and hurt and disappointed, you know??
I now realize that God doesn't want me to just bury the pain, He wants me to be released from it. I now know that the only way that can happen is for me to confront him and tell him how he has made me feel all these years. That is probably going to be the hardest conversation I have ever had to have. But there is one thing I know for sure: I can all things through Christ who strengthens me (Philippians 4:13).
I have only one expectation out of this talk: that I will be free. I don't expect (or even believe) that the relationship can/will change between us. That worked for the bff...but she also got the (great) stepfather that I never did too, so I know better than to expect that. I just want to have said what I need to say to the person that caused me pain and then move on. If I decide to talk to him or still see him after that point, that will be fine too. Whatever God tells me to do, because that's the Father that I know has my best intentions at heart.
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Showing posts with label father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label father. Show all posts
December 11, 2008
October 24, 2007
Crystal Trucking
What is Crystal Trucking? That is/was the name of my father's trucking company. Why is that the title? I'll get to that. But first, these words.
Life has gone on. Much has changed. Been in and out of a couple relationships. Then, I meet my husband-to-be one night. Yes, it was at a club. Yes, I was surprised when it didn't last forever! Anywho, I get a call from an uncle and good friend of my father telling me my father was in an accident. He is at a hospital in Columbia and may not make it through the night is what I was told. After I slightly compose myself, my betrothed and I hit the road. It was about a 2 hour drive...and I honestly didn't know what to expect. It didn't matter because I wouldn't have expected what I saw anyway.
It was a pretty bad accident. He was driving one of those car haulers, and it was empty. I saw pictures later in the daylight. The cab of the truck had two things that you could actually distinguish: the driver's seat and the steering wheel. There was nothing else. The outer shell of the truck wasn't there. There was no passenger seat...nothing. The entire front wheel axle -left and right- was sitting about 7 feet away from the cab. The back skeletal structure where the cars sit? It looked like someone just crumpled it in their hands. And my father? There wasn't a lot of blood or bandages. But, his head was swollen to almost twice it's normal size! Can you even imagine that? No, not juts the face, the whole head. His eyes couldn't even close all the way, due to massive amount of swelling. He was on a ventilator. The doctors said his lungs were fine, but that was to help reduce the swelling to his brain. Every bone on the left side of his face was crushed and he lost his left eye. From the the neck down? Nothing.
It took time, but he healed. I would go over almost every day after work and sit with him and help him out. My grandmother went over one day, while he was in the hospital and cleaned his house top to bottom. Then one day, I came over for my usual visit, and he and the girlfriend were going over bills for his trucking company. I was so proud of him, he had realized that dream for himself. Until I saw the name on the checks. Crystal Trucking! That would be the girlfriend's daughter's name!!! She was a few years younger than me, be he took to her like she was his own child, mainly because of her no-good, crackhead, thieving mother!
I am the baby of nine children by my father. Five of us are girls. You don't think he could have picked one of HIS actual children to name his company after? Or wow, here's a thought: Maybe even his own last name! That hurt me to my soul for years and years. It just seemed like no matter what I did, I was never going to be good enough to be more important than someone else's child!
I called my mom, in tears, still in shock about what I had just saw. Being the defender she is. She called him and gave a good size piece of her mind! That's why I wish my mom a Happy Father's Day every year!
That incident for my father and me, was the beginning of the end.
Life has gone on. Much has changed. Been in and out of a couple relationships. Then, I meet my husband-to-be one night. Yes, it was at a club. Yes, I was surprised when it didn't last forever! Anywho, I get a call from an uncle and good friend of my father telling me my father was in an accident. He is at a hospital in Columbia and may not make it through the night is what I was told. After I slightly compose myself, my betrothed and I hit the road. It was about a 2 hour drive...and I honestly didn't know what to expect. It didn't matter because I wouldn't have expected what I saw anyway.
It was a pretty bad accident. He was driving one of those car haulers, and it was empty. I saw pictures later in the daylight. The cab of the truck had two things that you could actually distinguish: the driver's seat and the steering wheel. There was nothing else. The outer shell of the truck wasn't there. There was no passenger seat...nothing. The entire front wheel axle -left and right- was sitting about 7 feet away from the cab. The back skeletal structure where the cars sit? It looked like someone just crumpled it in their hands. And my father? There wasn't a lot of blood or bandages. But, his head was swollen to almost twice it's normal size! Can you even imagine that? No, not juts the face, the whole head. His eyes couldn't even close all the way, due to massive amount of swelling. He was on a ventilator. The doctors said his lungs were fine, but that was to help reduce the swelling to his brain. Every bone on the left side of his face was crushed and he lost his left eye. From the the neck down? Nothing.
It took time, but he healed. I would go over almost every day after work and sit with him and help him out. My grandmother went over one day, while he was in the hospital and cleaned his house top to bottom. Then one day, I came over for my usual visit, and he and the girlfriend were going over bills for his trucking company. I was so proud of him, he had realized that dream for himself. Until I saw the name on the checks. Crystal Trucking! That would be the girlfriend's daughter's name!!! She was a few years younger than me, be he took to her like she was his own child, mainly because of her no-good, crackhead, thieving mother!
I am the baby of nine children by my father. Five of us are girls. You don't think he could have picked one of HIS actual children to name his company after? Or wow, here's a thought: Maybe even his own last name! That hurt me to my soul for years and years. It just seemed like no matter what I did, I was never going to be good enough to be more important than someone else's child!
I called my mom, in tears, still in shock about what I had just saw. Being the defender she is. She called him and gave a good size piece of her mind! That's why I wish my mom a Happy Father's Day every year!
That incident for my father and me, was the beginning of the end.
October 23, 2007
The Father....Part Two
Okay...here we go again. Fast forward a year. It's the end of college and, after a year of treating my car like gold...I have an accident. I completely accordion the left front fender, trying to avoid a head-on rear ender. Multi-car accident on 64/70E.
I take the car to my father's house, and I am freaking out! I was going to pick up my friend to take him shopping for his brother's birthday. I called and told him what happened, and he was just glad I was okay. My then boyfriend, Rick, and my friend Jon didn't really see eye to eye. So when I called him to tell what had happened, he asked where I was heading at the time of the accident.
I will never forget this...he to this day doesn't remember saying it (and it was totally out of character for him). As I looked out my father's window as he and his friends literally ripped the fender off my beloved car, Rick says to me "That's what you get for not being where you were supposed to be!" Yeah, traumatic, I know. I'm better now though....mostly.
So, my father has been around cars all his life. He and all his friends are in one way or another able to work on cars. From to under the hood to inside the car to on the body, there is someone for everything.
EXCEPT, when it came to me!
Noone seemed be able to fix my little fender for me. So, I drove my car for a couple of weeks without one. Hey, I was 18 and without shame...and was not about to walk!! Until, my uncle (rest his soul) went to the scrapyard and found a white one to replace the one I lost. Did I mention my car was red?
18 years old. Driving my own car. Didn't want to walk. Without Shame!
I did eventually buy some red automotive spray paint and change it to match the rest of the car....better. So once again, done WITHOUT paternal assistance.
Then, after another year or so, my beloved car started breaking down a little too frequently. One particular time, I was on my way from Springfield to E. St. Louis, it was dark already....and she broke down! My mom had already left earlier that evening, and I had just driven past the point where there were regular streetlights ceased. Yeah....good times! I sat out there for over 2 hours PRAYING noone would stop! This was long before the time of cell phones as a necessity, so I just hoped someone with one would call the police. And. Not. Stop.
Finally the police came and I was able to call my mom who picked me up. We called my father the next day to go get the car, and he did.
And it sat for over a month in his yard! Great! Thanks dad! It was finally fixed. Then my mom called him and fussed about it having taken him so long to get my car done, but noted if it was one of his friends it would have long been done! Naturally an argument ensued, they hung up on each other. I called him apparently when he was still upset and made some mention about my 'damn mammy'! Before I caught myself, I told him to watch his f-ing mouth and I hung up!
That was the only time I ever disrespected my father....and I didn't talk to him for a year. The day I decided to talk to him, I just stopped by and we hung out. There was no discussing what happened. We, in general, have a pretty superficial relationship. Yet again, this explains why I am the way I am with men.
More tomorrow.
I take the car to my father's house, and I am freaking out! I was going to pick up my friend to take him shopping for his brother's birthday. I called and told him what happened, and he was just glad I was okay. My then boyfriend, Rick, and my friend Jon didn't really see eye to eye. So when I called him to tell what had happened, he asked where I was heading at the time of the accident.
I will never forget this...he to this day doesn't remember saying it (and it was totally out of character for him). As I looked out my father's window as he and his friends literally ripped the fender off my beloved car, Rick says to me "That's what you get for not being where you were supposed to be!" Yeah, traumatic, I know. I'm better now though....mostly.
So, my father has been around cars all his life. He and all his friends are in one way or another able to work on cars. From to under the hood to inside the car to on the body, there is someone for everything.
EXCEPT, when it came to me!
Noone seemed be able to fix my little fender for me. So, I drove my car for a couple of weeks without one. Hey, I was 18 and without shame...and was not about to walk!! Until, my uncle (rest his soul) went to the scrapyard and found a white one to replace the one I lost. Did I mention my car was red?
18 years old. Driving my own car. Didn't want to walk. Without Shame!
I did eventually buy some red automotive spray paint and change it to match the rest of the car....better. So once again, done WITHOUT paternal assistance.
Then, after another year or so, my beloved car started breaking down a little too frequently. One particular time, I was on my way from Springfield to E. St. Louis, it was dark already....and she broke down! My mom had already left earlier that evening, and I had just driven past the point where there were regular streetlights ceased. Yeah....good times! I sat out there for over 2 hours PRAYING noone would stop! This was long before the time of cell phones as a necessity, so I just hoped someone with one would call the police. And. Not. Stop.
Finally the police came and I was able to call my mom who picked me up. We called my father the next day to go get the car, and he did.
And it sat for over a month in his yard! Great! Thanks dad! It was finally fixed. Then my mom called him and fussed about it having taken him so long to get my car done, but noted if it was one of his friends it would have long been done! Naturally an argument ensued, they hung up on each other. I called him apparently when he was still upset and made some mention about my 'damn mammy'! Before I caught myself, I told him to watch his f-ing mouth and I hung up!
That was the only time I ever disrespected my father....and I didn't talk to him for a year. The day I decided to talk to him, I just stopped by and we hung out. There was no discussing what happened. We, in general, have a pretty superficial relationship. Yet again, this explains why I am the way I am with men.
More tomorrow.
October 21, 2007
Did I ever tell you about my father?
Did I ever explain why I am so screwed up when it comes to guys? I didn't think so either. Here goes:
My father would be the reason. All the times that I waited for him to show and he never did. For the "perfect" (in comparison to the other career criminal and drug-addicted local siblings I had) behavior, the honor roll, the never needing bail money. All I ever asked him to really do on a financial basis was to buy my mother's escort from my sister for me. (Hard to explain...don't want to...but my sister was my legal guardian for a time in high school)
Mind you, I had been hearing since pre-teen years that when I was 16, he was going to buy me a car. So, I turned 16 and??? You guessed it! NADA!
Then the story morphed into when I become a senior, he'll buy me a car. Yeah....still nothing. It morphed yet again into when I graduate.
Now it's crunch time. I am about to graduate from high school and leave for college in 3 months. Hey, let's make this easy for you! You can simply 'buy' the Escort from my sister for me and have one of your mechanic friends to fix the cracked head! The car is a STEAL at only $500! Guess what??? He started complaining about how Fords are a piece of crap and it's not gonna be worth it to fix it and "blah, blah, blah" is pretty much what I remember.
So, I graduate high school and go live with my mom in Springfield. By day, I worked 6a-2p, 5 days a week at the Wendy's across the street from our townhouse. In the evenings a few nights a week, I worked from 3p-11p at the Denny's just down the block. Why so much working you ask???
Well, back then, when you took your Ford to the shop and was told you had water in the oil, it meant your head gasket or the actual head itself was cracked. You prayed for the gasket since it was LOADS cheaper to repair. Replacing the head was damn near like buying a rebuilt transmission and having it installed!!! There were 4 figures involved in the total repair bill, and this was in 1991! Yeah right, like it was the gasket on my escort!!! So I needed to make as much money as I could to get my car fixed before it was time for me to go to college. Yes, I said my car. The working was also to pay my sister for the car itself, as well as the repairs!
This next part goes to show who your REAL Father is. When my sister had all the money together from me, she put the car in the shop who originally told her about the cracked head. Imagine all of our surprise when he said the car was fine! He did a tune-up and oil change and sent us on our way!!!
That is the first real event that I can remember. This will run as a little mini-series, so the next part will be later in the week. I can only dredge up so much at one time. Thanks for understanding.
My father would be the reason. All the times that I waited for him to show and he never did. For the "perfect" (in comparison to the other career criminal and drug-addicted local siblings I had) behavior, the honor roll, the never needing bail money. All I ever asked him to really do on a financial basis was to buy my mother's escort from my sister for me. (Hard to explain...don't want to...but my sister was my legal guardian for a time in high school)
Mind you, I had been hearing since pre-teen years that when I was 16, he was going to buy me a car. So, I turned 16 and??? You guessed it! NADA!
Then the story morphed into when I become a senior, he'll buy me a car. Yeah....still nothing. It morphed yet again into when I graduate.
Now it's crunch time. I am about to graduate from high school and leave for college in 3 months. Hey, let's make this easy for you! You can simply 'buy' the Escort from my sister for me and have one of your mechanic friends to fix the cracked head! The car is a STEAL at only $500! Guess what??? He started complaining about how Fords are a piece of crap and it's not gonna be worth it to fix it and "blah, blah, blah" is pretty much what I remember.
So, I graduate high school and go live with my mom in Springfield. By day, I worked 6a-2p, 5 days a week at the Wendy's across the street from our townhouse. In the evenings a few nights a week, I worked from 3p-11p at the Denny's just down the block. Why so much working you ask???
Well, back then, when you took your Ford to the shop and was told you had water in the oil, it meant your head gasket or the actual head itself was cracked. You prayed for the gasket since it was LOADS cheaper to repair. Replacing the head was damn near like buying a rebuilt transmission and having it installed!!! There were 4 figures involved in the total repair bill, and this was in 1991! Yeah right, like it was the gasket on my escort!!! So I needed to make as much money as I could to get my car fixed before it was time for me to go to college. Yes, I said my car. The working was also to pay my sister for the car itself, as well as the repairs!
This next part goes to show who your REAL Father is. When my sister had all the money together from me, she put the car in the shop who originally told her about the cracked head. Imagine all of our surprise when he said the car was fine! He did a tune-up and oil change and sent us on our way!!!
That is the first real event that I can remember. This will run as a little mini-series, so the next part will be later in the week. I can only dredge up so much at one time. Thanks for understanding.
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