my father

this is the story of my father. to some people, i simply say he passed away when i was 18. it makes it easier and i don't feel like i am lying because well, he's mostly just this shell of a human being that was allowed to live, not by my hand but by my families hand.

15 years ago he had a massive coronary. he lost too much oxygen to his brain. he was in a coma and dying and i went to florida and as next of kin and 18 years of age i had every god damn right to have the doctors take him off life support which is what i told them i wanted. i know he would have wanted that too. but no. they didn't think i was able to make this choice.

after having the life i had up to that point, i am not really sure what part of 'adult' they didn't understand.

after a week of lock down at my uncle's house in boca i left and i never looked back.

my father woke up months later. he didn't know who he was who i was where he was or what year it was. he would never know these things again.

so i left. i still didn't look back.

i miss my father every day. i miss his sarcastic humor. i miss having someone to tell all my adventures to.

sure, some say....'well you could have gone home and lived with him' and done what?
retrained his brain? maybe. maybe i could have but in all this time and work that has been done, so far, the man still never remembered me and that was so hard to swallow when i was 18.

so i left and i never looked back.

maybe my family thinks i am a careless wreck of a human being....that i don't appreciate what he 'gave up' for me...but they should all be reminded of the horrible things my father did....that they will deny until they are in their graves, but only they don't have my mind and memory. maybe it wasn't as bad as my mom said but i remember things that i know are real memories. i have read and heard of children being led to believe things that didn't happen.....but i know my own mind. i have had extensive therapy in my early 20's to figure a lot of this shit out...what is real what is imagined....

what they also may not understand, my family, is that me and my father had a very special bond after i was released from the home of my mother in fifth grade....after living with my aunt and uncle in geneva, i went to live with him.

i hadn't lived with him since i was 4 and i was 12. it was very weird and hard at first but we eventually grew closer and he was my friend.

so anyhow, i know that it is lying when i say he is dead but he is. i know this is really hard for most people to understand but for me, it is the best way i knew how to cope with the loss of this man i came to love and trust.

in the blink of an eye, he was gone and so i never went back.

i am not cold and heartless. i love him as much today as i did when i was in high school. i have carried around a guilt i can never describe.....most people i know stay with their parents in such a crisis but i left. because my family told me to. they said 'go back to college and we'll take care of this' and no matter what i tried to do as this adult that i thought i was, no one gave a shit. my opinion didn't fucking matter and it was my father. however i was expected to come home and stay there.

so i moved as far away as i could....texas.

i used to call him from there but every time it was the same conversation over and over and over again. i grew so frustrated and all i did was cry. eventually i stopped calling and my family knew how to reach me yet they never so much as picked up a phone this whole fucking time to see how the fuck i was doing.

so now--come to find out my father has had a cardiac episode and every ounce of my being wishes for him to simply have a peaceful death. for all his suffering of not knowing who he is.....for all our suffering.

i am sorry if you think i was lying to you about my father. sometimes it's just easier. it's hard to answer these questions. "so what do your parents do?" well, my mom is a recovering heroin addict and my dad is a semi brain dead vegetable and my brother has severe cerebral palsy.

i unload this on people and all they do is feel sorry for me well, sometimes i grow tired of people feeling sorry for me.

this was my hand in life. i didn't ask for this but i endured it and have come out the other side a reasonably well adjusted person, for the most part.

i am sure you all can see i have my moments.

i love my father. i love him so much. i always did.....so please universe, let him go now. please just let him go.