If you are just joining this blog, you might want to start at the preface and work your way up or you'll be missing major details :-)
But before I continue the story, I'll give you some cliff's notes since its been like an eternity since I wrote last:
-Dad was put in jail. We found out it was for not paying the courts on a judgment against him for scamming a contracting job
-Crack whore calls mom when Dad is in jail, who is in a hotel nearby waiting for my dearest Daddy.
-Dad's friend Julian bails him out of jail.
-Dad stocks the pantry with Y2K food and leaves on the road with the crack whore and $3 in the bank for my mom.
-Dad is missing for days and we try to file a missing person's report.
-Find out Dad's credit card is being used to rent a Uhaul truck in PA
-Discover Dad has been caught with 2 MUCH younger female prostitutes in February of 2010
- I have a 11 year old brother and 13 year old sister that know very little about what is going on.
"Hi Mom. I'm almost to the airport"
"Good. The kids are starting to ask questions, I need you here. Lucy knows something is up. Every time the phone rings she asks if its Dad."
"Okay we'll be there in less than two hours okay. Just wait until I get there and we'll have a family meeting. We'll do it together okay."
"We can't tell them everything Sam."
"No. Not the ugly parts, but we have to tell them something, so they can be prepared."
Prepared. What a word. As if anyone can be prepared for a big giant curve ball. I wanted to look this turmoil in the face as if it were manageable, but really deep down I knew I was terrified. I was about to watch pain on the faces of the people I care for the most. So as I schlep a toddler and all the piles and piles of travel equipment with us, I think about what it is I'm about to walk into and relish in the last moments of a simpler life.
The worst part was the lack of information. How does one go into battle blindfolded- knowing there's a monster out there but no idea where its coming from or how its going to surface. Maybe my dad just split and left my mom holding the bag. Maybe he's dead on the side of the road and I'll have to plan a funeral. Maybe he's in some drug induced rampage half way across the country. Who the hell knows, but one thing is certain- this family is headed to a dark place. I can feel it like a dozen sandbags weighing down my soul.
People say that you always know. You always know deep down when something is coming, whether it be a storm or an infidelity, you just feel the change coming. People say you can sense it in the back of your head or deep in your heart in some remote subtle place. What I felt getting off the plane was not subtle or remote. I felt as if the world were about to crash apart in an explosive mess of confusion and pain. Our family would either sink or swim. And nobody gave me a damn boat. Hell I would have taken a floaty or one of those stupid noodles.
When Noah and I made our way down to baggage, it was like a movie moment. Noah sprang out of his stroller and ran across the room to embrace the kids and my mom. The kids were elated wearing genuine full faced smiles- the kind you only see on children. They still had the kind of smiles that exist in the world of fairy tales and magic. They are the smiles you loose when you know too much, when you learn about the world and the realities it holds.
As I hugged my mom, I knew we shared the same thought. We both knew this may be the last time we would ever see those smiles again. We would be wiping the magic away forever. We knew that this would be the day they would keep in their memories as the day the world became cruel and unsafe. It would become a world where your parents don't have the answers for you, but only uncertainty, truth, and small wavering threads of comfort. We all come to that point, it is a right of passage in life, but most of us come to this point as adults. We become jaded with broken hearts and misguided attempts at becoming one's own person. Walking into this felt more like a tragedy than a right of passage. My mom and I were about to end the childhood for two beautiful kids and we both knew it. For the second time in a week I got to be the messenger. I hate being the messenger.
At home we sat the kids down in the living room with the Christmas tree- the Christmas tree with 4 very small gifts underneath it. What a perfect time of year for this to be happening. Thanks for that Dad.
"I know you guys know we haven't heard from your dad in a few days, and we just wanted to sit down and talk with you about that," says mom as she glances at me to pass the floor.
"We've been doing all kinds of research to find Dad. We've been on the phone for days calling every place he could possibly be. We haven't been able to find him guys. Right now we have an active missing person's report placed," I tell them.
"What does that mean?" my brother asks.
"That means the police are looking for him," Mom says.
"We don't know buddy. Its possible, but we're doing our best to find out what exactly is going on. We know he was last in Pennsylvania, but that's about all we know," I tell him.
"Could he be dead?" my sister asks. She's too damn smart.
"Well, we don't think so since he's used his credit card, but Lucy its just not like Dad to not call, so its possible," I tell her.
"Do you think he just left, like for good?" my sister asks, but I say nothing because I can't answer that. I can't say it to her. I can't tell someone that is so pure and unimaginably incredible and loving that her Daddy might not have wanted her. I couldn't do it. But she knew looking into my eyes. She crossed the line and became an adult in that moment. Then Lucy looked at my brother, as to pass the baton of life to him, but he already wore the same look. He had crossed the line too. They may have not known the details and the "ugly parts" but they certainly felt the change, felt the possibilities and outcomes in their souls.
Then my mom starts to cry, unable to hold it in anymore having just watched her 13 year old daughter and 11 year old son become much older than they should be. But then, without a beat, this remarkable thing happened.
My brother stood up and sat next to Mom and held her. It wasn't a kid going to his mommy for a hug because something bad happened to him. It was a son offering support and care for his mother that was suffering. Then my sister stood up and sat on the other side of Mom and did the same. As the kids held my mom, she wept. Tears streamed down her face and she gasped for air. She mourned. She mourned as her children held her and said nothing. We all held her and let her grieve, let her expel the pain.
I knew that she was mourning the loss of her marriage and the loss of innocence in her babies. She mourned for the life she knew. She hurt for following a man for 30 years that would give her up in such a sick way. She ached from following his dreams and not her own. She sobbed for the loss of the years behind her and the uphill climb for the years ahead. She cried and cried, and we held her until there were no more tears left, until her body quieted and her mind became still.
Now I knew the kids were not kids anymore and that will always haunt me, but as we held my mom I grew up too. I realized that in the face of pain, children can be braver than anyone- certainly braver than I am. My brother and sister didn't crumble- they stood tall. They showed their loyalty and unfaltering support for my Mom. And Mom grew too. She let her children hold her up. She let them be strong for her when she couldn't be strong for herself. That in itself might possibly be the hardest thing for a mom to do. She let us hold her, and let us become more than siblings and a mom- we became a real true family . We became a family with souls merged and attached as if by steel. We weren't just people living along side one another anymore. We were in this together, come hell or high water.
After a while of sitting still and silent in a pile of hugs Mom says, "We can go to the dollar store and pick out some Christmas gifts, but I don't think we can do much more. Dad didn't leave me any money."
"That's okay Mom. We like the dollar store," my sister says.
"Yep. We do," says my brother
-Discover Dad has been caught with 2 MUCH younger female prostitutes in February of 2010
- I have a 11 year old brother and 13 year old sister that know very little about what is going on.
"Hi Mom. I'm almost to the airport"
"Good. The kids are starting to ask questions, I need you here. Lucy knows something is up. Every time the phone rings she asks if its Dad."
"Okay we'll be there in less than two hours okay. Just wait until I get there and we'll have a family meeting. We'll do it together okay."
"We can't tell them everything Sam."
"No. Not the ugly parts, but we have to tell them something, so they can be prepared."
Prepared. What a word. As if anyone can be prepared for a big giant curve ball. I wanted to look this turmoil in the face as if it were manageable, but really deep down I knew I was terrified. I was about to watch pain on the faces of the people I care for the most. So as I schlep a toddler and all the piles and piles of travel equipment with us, I think about what it is I'm about to walk into and relish in the last moments of a simpler life.
The worst part was the lack of information. How does one go into battle blindfolded- knowing there's a monster out there but no idea where its coming from or how its going to surface. Maybe my dad just split and left my mom holding the bag. Maybe he's dead on the side of the road and I'll have to plan a funeral. Maybe he's in some drug induced rampage half way across the country. Who the hell knows, but one thing is certain- this family is headed to a dark place. I can feel it like a dozen sandbags weighing down my soul.
People say that you always know. You always know deep down when something is coming, whether it be a storm or an infidelity, you just feel the change coming. People say you can sense it in the back of your head or deep in your heart in some remote subtle place. What I felt getting off the plane was not subtle or remote. I felt as if the world were about to crash apart in an explosive mess of confusion and pain. Our family would either sink or swim. And nobody gave me a damn boat. Hell I would have taken a floaty or one of those stupid noodles.
When Noah and I made our way down to baggage, it was like a movie moment. Noah sprang out of his stroller and ran across the room to embrace the kids and my mom. The kids were elated wearing genuine full faced smiles- the kind you only see on children. They still had the kind of smiles that exist in the world of fairy tales and magic. They are the smiles you loose when you know too much, when you learn about the world and the realities it holds.
As I hugged my mom, I knew we shared the same thought. We both knew this may be the last time we would ever see those smiles again. We would be wiping the magic away forever. We knew that this would be the day they would keep in their memories as the day the world became cruel and unsafe. It would become a world where your parents don't have the answers for you, but only uncertainty, truth, and small wavering threads of comfort. We all come to that point, it is a right of passage in life, but most of us come to this point as adults. We become jaded with broken hearts and misguided attempts at becoming one's own person. Walking into this felt more like a tragedy than a right of passage. My mom and I were about to end the childhood for two beautiful kids and we both knew it. For the second time in a week I got to be the messenger. I hate being the messenger.
At home we sat the kids down in the living room with the Christmas tree- the Christmas tree with 4 very small gifts underneath it. What a perfect time of year for this to be happening. Thanks for that Dad.
"I know you guys know we haven't heard from your dad in a few days, and we just wanted to sit down and talk with you about that," says mom as she glances at me to pass the floor.
"We've been doing all kinds of research to find Dad. We've been on the phone for days calling every place he could possibly be. We haven't been able to find him guys. Right now we have an active missing person's report placed," I tell them.
"What does that mean?" my brother asks.
"That means the police are looking for him," Mom says.
"We don't know buddy. Its possible, but we're doing our best to find out what exactly is going on. We know he was last in Pennsylvania, but that's about all we know," I tell him.
"Could he be dead?" my sister asks. She's too damn smart.
"Well, we don't think so since he's used his credit card, but Lucy its just not like Dad to not call, so its possible," I tell her.
"Do you think he just left, like for good?" my sister asks, but I say nothing because I can't answer that. I can't say it to her. I can't tell someone that is so pure and unimaginably incredible and loving that her Daddy might not have wanted her. I couldn't do it. But she knew looking into my eyes. She crossed the line and became an adult in that moment. Then Lucy looked at my brother, as to pass the baton of life to him, but he already wore the same look. He had crossed the line too. They may have not known the details and the "ugly parts" but they certainly felt the change, felt the possibilities and outcomes in their souls.
Then my mom starts to cry, unable to hold it in anymore having just watched her 13 year old daughter and 11 year old son become much older than they should be. But then, without a beat, this remarkable thing happened.
My brother stood up and sat next to Mom and held her. It wasn't a kid going to his mommy for a hug because something bad happened to him. It was a son offering support and care for his mother that was suffering. Then my sister stood up and sat on the other side of Mom and did the same. As the kids held my mom, she wept. Tears streamed down her face and she gasped for air. She mourned. She mourned as her children held her and said nothing. We all held her and let her grieve, let her expel the pain.
I knew that she was mourning the loss of her marriage and the loss of innocence in her babies. She mourned for the life she knew. She hurt for following a man for 30 years that would give her up in such a sick way. She ached from following his dreams and not her own. She sobbed for the loss of the years behind her and the uphill climb for the years ahead. She cried and cried, and we held her until there were no more tears left, until her body quieted and her mind became still.
Now I knew the kids were not kids anymore and that will always haunt me, but as we held my mom I grew up too. I realized that in the face of pain, children can be braver than anyone- certainly braver than I am. My brother and sister didn't crumble- they stood tall. They showed their loyalty and unfaltering support for my Mom. And Mom grew too. She let her children hold her up. She let them be strong for her when she couldn't be strong for herself. That in itself might possibly be the hardest thing for a mom to do. She let us hold her, and let us become more than siblings and a mom- we became a real true family . We became a family with souls merged and attached as if by steel. We weren't just people living along side one another anymore. We were in this together, come hell or high water.
After a while of sitting still and silent in a pile of hugs Mom says, "We can go to the dollar store and pick out some Christmas gifts, but I don't think we can do much more. Dad didn't leave me any money."
"That's okay Mom. We like the dollar store," my sister says.
"Yep. We do," says my brother
