Daddy Issues.

Or mommy issues.  I suppose in some respects we all have them.  We can't be unaffected by those that raised us, or didn't raise us in some cases.

While I can poke fun at some Freudian psychobabble, I do think that we all have residual affects of our relationship, or lack of relationship, with those that are our "parents".

In this respect my story is at the highest level no different than yours, no better, no worse, just another variation of the parent-child dynamic that we all have in some shape or form.

I'm going to do my best to not make this post too heavy, too revealing and therefore counter productive and leaving me feeling exposed, but I do feel it is important to get this out.  For me.  Feel free to stop reading here, the rest of this post is ultimately for my own cathartic purposes to send into the abyss to relieve some of the weight.

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Four years ago tomorrow, I was getting off a plane that had flown through a snow storm, that landed in England.  One of my sisters picked me up and brought me straight to the hospital.  It wasn't clear how much time was left, or if it was too late.

We arrived at the hospital and I remember the hallways, the lights, the surprising quiet that filled the white space, and the sound of our feet walking closer and closer to my destination.

I walked in the room where an unrecognizable old man was laying, mouth open and eyes closed.  By the monitor I new he was still alive, by the tattoo on his arm, I knew he was my dad.

I had not seen him since I was about 8, when he left to move back to England.  He was a drinker and an angry man which combined was expressed as violence.  He not a good man to my mother and she finally said "enough".  He chose to go back to where he was from instead of staying and paying child support, which was probably for the better as he was not a well man, mentally.  So while it was safer for him to be in England, for an 8 year old to lose her father, you can imagine the pain, anger and confusion that would be experienced.

For his crazy ways and unsound mind - we lost touch, my mom and I moved, changed our phone number, etc.  While my older siblings who live in the UK had some contact with him for a time, he soon alienated himself from them as well.

About 14 years after he left, my grandparents got a phone call from a hospital in the UK, looking for me, his listed next of kin.  After my grandparents/mom got a hold of me, I was on the phone with the hospital finding out that my father, who was then 72 years old, was in the very final stages of bladder cancer, and that he was refusing pain medication.

This is funny for a few reasons, but really only if you knew him.  He was such a stubborn ass that he wanted to suffer, wanted to refuse help, and even with days left in him, was only convinced once my siblings (who I had to call and tell that our father was dying, yet they lived in the same city as he did) arrived at the hospital (about 36 hours before I was able to get there).

They told him I was coming.  They said that his eyes lit up and he knew that I was coming.  He then accepted the morphine and slipped under in a medication induced coma-like state.  I know he waited for me.

He died about 3 hours after I landed and held his hand. I told him I forgave him for the pain he caused us all and that I had turned out well.

The week of his passing was like out of a movie, with laughing, crying, drinking, and celebrating the crazy man he was with my siblings (they are technically half siblings, different mom, same dad, but in my heart they are full).  We gave him a muslim burial as that was his faith he adopted (not any of ours) and we honored him in ways he couldn't have done for himself.  The muslim community he was in was very welcoming and treated us like family.

As much as it was painful, and like losing him again, I honestly can say it was a beautiful experience that not only brought further closure, but brought a closeness with my siblings that I truly cherish.  There were so many events that occurred that week in England that I couldn't write them all for time and space reasons, but also feel like they are sacred.

So fast forward to 4 years later and I am thinking about him.  Thinking about what the implications of having a father like he was, and losing him, and then losing him again.

These emotions, thoughts, feelings etc - are heightened due to another anticipated loss.  Some of you may know this but last year my mom and I found out that my step-dad has terminal bone cancer.  My step-dad who I typically refer to as my dad when speaking about my family, was really the father who raised me from childhood until adulthood with my wonderful mother.  While they've had their challenges he was part of what made our family whole again, for most of my life.

The details of this I won't go into, because they're painful, and the situation is still on going, but he has pulled away from us in only what can be interpreted as attempting to protect us from seeing him suffer, which you can imagine is hard for us.  We know very little about how he is doing and very little about what that means in terms of timing.  He is currently past the "date" of the prognosis he was given, so I suppose this is all borrowed time.  Unfortunately, much like my biological father, when the goings get tough, well, these guys aren't so tough I suppose and they literally get going.

We don't have any update since Thanksgiving and the waiting is a constant weight on me, and my mother.  We are challenged to keep our lives moving forward without him, knowing that we'll lose him all over again with his final day.

Despite it all, I keep it together and live my life well and manage to function, have fun, plan for my future (which is sad in some senses), enjoy things in the moment and everything in between.

However, it is a day like tomorrow that reminds me that I've lost, and that I have more of that ahead.

Considering it all I'd say that I turned out okay, really more than okay.  I have managed to find great strength through these things, and have a wonderful support system of friends and family that I owe many thanks for.

We all have suffered losses, and as we grow they become more and more inevitable...this thing called the human condition is something that is challenging, but beautiful if we allow it to be.

Thanks for reading and allowing me to let go of some of the sadness by expressing some of this hardship.  Please keep my family, my step-dad and me in your thoughts, and I'll keep you and yours in mine.

Health and happiness to all.

Until next time,
E