When I was a kid, like *very* young, my parents marriage ended. It's my first memory. It wasn't pretty, but I remember that being the end of a chapter. I was 4 years old. I won't talk about everything that happened that night, but I spent half the night in the Hampton Police Station and the other half in a foster home about 2 miles from my home.I remember sleeping on a fold-out couch and the next day my mother picking me up in her gray, Dodge hatchback. We went to Bennigans for lunch.
My relationship with my dad has always been... different. I knew he loved me and still does, but for the longest time I felt like there was a hole where my family disappeared in. I'd look in it and try to figure out how to get it out. I didn't pull a Parent Trap situation where I'd dream of and enact getting them back together. But I'd ask and they'd be honest that it just wouldn't work anymore. I'm thankful they never talked badly about each other, they just wanted to do the best for me that they could. Every child of divorce is familiar with the neutral-ground exchange. It was at Bennigans or the Patrick Henry Mall for me. Until I graduated from high school or college, those were the only times my parents spent together after their divorce.
That hole I talked about? That existed in me. It was there for so long that it affected every relationship, platonic and romantic, that I went through. So much so, that my best friend in high school, Mike, would make sure his dad showed up to both of our sporting events. My mom's best friend, Maureen, would have her husband, Kevin, come and watch me play football. they would both take us out afterward and we'd eat huge strombolis from Stapleton's Market. Linda, the owner and main cook, would stuff mine with so much sausage that I couldn't move afterward.
Those were great times with people who wanted to be there. Coaches cared, teachers cared, it was good to know that so many people inside and outside of my family cared and do care about me. All those people were wonderful influences, but it was a salve for the family I always wanted. Friday night I filled in that hole and moved forward. You're never going to solve those things, you just acknowledge them and move on to the newer, better things.
That night I intended to go out with friends and have drinks, but that fell through after a hilarious and enjoyable happy hour. Instead, I called my dad. We exchange calls every month or so, and sometimes it's great and sometimes it's strained. Friday night we had the deepest conversation we've had since I graduated from college.
"I'm not angry with you, I just don't want *this*. We don't have a ton of time left and I really want you to be a part of my life all the time."
"I know. I've always loved you son. I'm sorry, I just always keep so many things at arms distance sometimes"
"So do I, but I want that to change. I've been digging within myself for real change and I think this is one of those things I want to improve the most. Come up and see the Cherry blossoms and please bring Wendy"
"I'm gonna make that happen."
My dad stayed silent on the phone for about a minute and said, "Son, I'm more proud of you than I ever thought I could be. I've made so many mistakes, but you're the best thing I've done. When I think about you and how much you've done, I know you're able to do everything I could do and more." I smiled the rest of the night
Then we talked about the family's ending, his history, my history, how we're so similar and so different at the same time.
It wasn't all super-serious. We had a great laugh too. See, I get a good amount of my sense of humor from him. He reminded me of when I was young, we would drive around in his Toyota Celica. This was back when power-windows were pretty much new. He would always pull up next to a car of cute girls, roll down the window, and yell out, "Hey ladies! This here is my son! He's a good lookin' kid, huh? Maybe y'all should get a meal sometime?!" Embarrassed, I'd roll up the window and you'd hear the motor and the window grinding up, "skrEEEEEEeee," and slink down. He'd roll it back down, "skrEEEEEEeee,". I'd roll it back up., "skrEEEEEEeee." "Ladies, you'll love this young man! He's a true gentleman, just like his dad!" Mortified, he'd laugh and they'd laugh and I'd blush as much as I could and he'd drive off, laughing with the window back up. At the time, it was embarrassingly funny. Now it's just hilarious.
See, I've been a little nervous the past few weeks. I've had to examine everything I've been (not) doing and how to make effective change. I'm in a new home, starting a new job, revisiting old friends, embracing the great ones I see, and trying to improve my life all at the same time. It made me second-guess whether I was ready and prepared to do this. I knew at the end of that conversation that I don't have to worry. I've done a lot without even realizing it and have a lot more to do. I thank everyone for helping me. I've got a lot of work to do and I'm glad I have the strength to do it. This life is short, so making the most of it matters. Everything matters.
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