So, you have read in a few of my blogs about me talking about my father. His name is Jack. He is 41 years old, and works for an excavating company, operating a crane. He is married to a woman named Sheri, and he has two kids. Me (26) and Jack III (19).
I met him for the very first time the summer of 1999. I remember the day very well, because that same day I had attended the Local Gay Parade downtown with my grandmother and I was still sporting the gay colors everywhere. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was sooo scared, and so nervous. I had all of these thoughts raising through my head. Would he like me? Do I look like him? What if he doesn't want me around? All sorts of crazy things. But I met him, my grandmother, grandfather, aunt and baby cousin all in the same day. Which was something I hadn't expected. I talked to my stepmother mostly, because just as I am quiet, so is my father (inherited trait) And I never spoke with him again. At least not until 2002 when he became a grandfather for the first time. I figured he had a right to know. But that didn't make a difference, because even then he wasn't worried about staying in contact with me.
I later down the road, became close with my Aunt. Her and I seemed to have a lot of things in common and a lot of things that I was eager to learn. About my father, my family history, my heritage, just about any and everything I wanted to know. But still not really close with my father.
Him and I never really had a relationship. Maybe once a month him and I would go to lunch and discuss my kids, the weather or whatever may or may not have been going on with him. Neither one of us are really big on talking. And if I needed $10 I would call him up, because after all a small part of me felt I deserved something from him. Our "relationship" stayed like this until 2010.
Then my grandfather had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital. He died 2 days later in his sleep. I remember being up at the hospital and him grabbing my hand just squeezing it. To this day, I am not even sure he knew who I was, he was so out of it. The next day comes and I hear a rumor floating around, that I only wanted my father around for his money.
I was PISSED. And I am not a person who sits and bites her tongue, OR believe in rumors. So I called his wife right up and asked about it. Well the rumors were true, and when I asked him about it, he says "Well, she hasn't been wrong so far." And I haven't spoken to him since. I was heartbroken!
I couldn't believe that my own father would think I only wanted him around for money, when that was something I RARELY ever got from him or ever asked for. I feel as if he chose his wife over me, and that is something you don't do.
So just a few weeks ago, I was at a friend's benefit dinner and I run into him. I was scared, nervous. Wondering if he would say anything, and he walks right out the door. I got up and left. I wasn't sure what to think. Then a couple days later the same friend tells me that he told her that he "misses" me...
And I quickly got angry. If he missed me so much, why didn't he come and say something to me? Why hasn't he called? Why hasn't he stopped by? He has always known where I have been, I've always had the same phone number. Nothing has changed! He has yet to even meet his youngest granddaughter!
So Im torn. Should I take the next step and contact him, or wait for him to contact me? Should I even bother, and let it be?
My youngest daughter is named after him. I love this man and he will never know. Should it be a new beginning, or should I just face the music and call it a bittersweet end?