Daddy.

I feel the need to openly speak my truths, even though it seems dramatic and juvenile. Call it what you will-I call it necessary.
Over six years ago, things got weird with my father. The man who cheated on my mother, and I forgave countless times over the years-even after being uninvited to my paternal Grandfather’s funeral because I monetarily was flat broke to get there and 8.5 months pregnant.
I forgave him for shunning me out of his life once again. He finally met our daughter when she was almost a year old. After we almost lost her during my pregnancy due to a rapidly growing cyst. I underwent major surgery and went into preterm labor, and we all survived. With the love and support of my father and new in-laws and maternal side all rooting for us. But that didn’t last long with him…
Over the years it became an emotional roller coaster of taking sides and fighting amongst the family. But my father and his wife stood by our sides after we mended fences years before.
This brings us to about six years ago, as I stated earlier. We were so close. In 2008, Our home burned down a few years prior, and my father opened his newly purchased condo to us. I remember pulling my husband aside, in all the confusion and heartache, and saying this would destroy our relationship with them…sure enough, I guess it did.
Fast forward to 2011-I had a feeling I might be pregnant when things were getting weird with my father and step mother. It had been over a year since we moved out of their condo and back home. There was plenty of tension over the course of the year living there, but we put up with it, feeling guilty and grateful for having a place to live while we rebuilt our life and home.
It started with a mild disagreement with my father over the phone about painters he hired(our neighbors who we apprehensively recommended for the job).
My father seemed out of sorts and flipped out at my husband who he generally got along really well with.
They had heated words, and I told my husband to end the call civilly if it escalated.
Well it escalated… for days.
My last actual phone call with my father was bizarre. Very heated on his end, coming from a man who always very mellow and calm.
I had promised myself not to get upset and freak out, because I had a feeling I was pregnant…and almost 40. I was terrified I could jeopardize this gift coming our way so late in our lives.

I listened to his berating and accusations. I tried to calmly challenge him. Not sure how it ended, but I do remember an email telling me with expletives (as he swears we referred to my step mother) that he chose the B@tch over all of us…and soon after sold his home and beach condo and moved to Arizona.
I am coming forward to call my father out, (who I adored), for being a no good nothing.
He didn’t fight for us when we were toddlers, he didn’t fight for us as teens. He tolerated us as adults.
Not sure if it was his own doing, but regardless, any man that can walk away THREE times from his daughter, and now all three daughters and 14 grandchildren (some he doesn’t even know) for the past six years…I hope he can look in that mirror and say it was worth it. Because I know his mother, and father, and sister would not approve of the lies.
Stop sharing our pictures and pretending you care and have this big diverse beautiful family…because you do NOT know this family. Giving the grandkids that you DO still occasionally speak to, an HOUR of your time when it fits your schedule when you live in Arizona? Why bother?
They’d be better off without the offer.
I loved you.
I adored the idea of my daddy loving me back finally. Of wanting to know me and loving my kids…who by the way, have no desire to speak to him again…they adored him…he did the same to them as he did to me and my sisters forty years ago…
All I have left to say, is I loved you, Dad.
But I bid you farewell.
Stay away.
It hurts too much.

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Abandoned.

I know the feeling of abandonment so I am not sure why I cannot keep myself focused and blog on.

My poor blog left empty and alone…

Life is absolutely insane these days, but I still manage to not abandon my kids, or work, or the mountain of clothes that have appeared yet AGAIN waiting to be folded as soon as I finish this…

Honestly, i don’t know if I feel as guilty as I am portraying here, or just looking for a reason to have a blog about Abandonment.

I truly do know what it feels like, as do many people I know…for me it has been emotional AND physical abandonment that silently tortures me and my ability to trust people.

Most children from divorce or adoption or foster care can relate.

I can write volumes about this topic from a divorce perspective, but I won’t because we all have our journey to acknowledge or hide from after someone leaves us selfishly forever.

Its just been nagging at me lately. A LOT.

We have unofficially adopted a young man into our life/home/family about eight months ago. We have known him for years, and have slowly learned of his story of abandonment…absolute physically and emotionally left to figure out life on his own. Even after adoption, his story makes mine seem so pathetic…I cannot tell his story but can share what he has added to our lives.

His is a remarkable one though…after all his pain and suffering, and picking up the pieces slowly as he got older, realizing his life just wasn’t right and filled with voids, he persevered through high school (as did his brothers) and got himself a full ride into a state college. He worked hard all through high school and his jobs, and finally had enough with the void…he needed to be needed…he needed to be loved.

Me too.

I am an adult now, and have learned to accept all that went bad in my childhood and even as an adult. I have had many years to digest this, and slowly heal and learn from it.

Abandonment is a topic fresh on my brain because of this young man…we want him to finally never have to worry about how it feels to be alone…ever again. He will always have a home with us, a shoulder to cry on, or a birthday celebration/holiday/Sunday dinner to come home for.

Most of my family has accepted him into their lives and hearts, and for those who have not…oh well…your loss. ALL of our children have something different and amazing to offer this world…all FIVE of them.

And the same can be said for that person who broke my heart yet again, after years of rebuilding trust and that our relationship would never be broken again…oh well…YOUR loss.

As well as the now fourteen grandchildren left behind to figure out what happened…some who will never even know his face or name or the memories the older children had made together with him…that were obviously not real or genuine. Otherwise, those memories and innocent hearts would have been worth sticking around for (kinda like me when I was five)…some of these kids are now adults and can make up their own minds if they will ever give him the time of day. And the others will have to wait until they too are adults, because I will not utter his name ever again…

You left me  once, shame on you.

I let you leave me again…

Shame on me.

That void in my heart is filled now with loving a child who needs to be loved…

WE will never leave him.