Thursday, November 04, 2010

You had 9 lives and 1 by 1 you chewed them up...

It's been one month today that my Dad passed away.  Tomorrow would have been his 50th birthday.  For most of my life, my Dad was a deadbeat who'd rather spend his money on drugs than child support.  From ages 13-25, we did not see each other.  From 15-25, we did not speak.  Last year, my Dad went into a coma and had heart surgery.  He had dialysis three days a week.  This year, he had heart surgery...again.  Heavy smoker.  Horrible eating habits.  Type 2 diabetes.  Noting to live for before it was too late.


In 2009, my Uncle convinced me to come down to Tampa to see my Dad, as he was in horrible shape and it was obvious that time was running out.  I had a lot of anger towards my Dad.  I planned to give him hell and show him how much better I was than him.  I sat outside as a bloated and already defeated figure made his way outside.  It was an uncomfortable and sad, yet calming moment.  All of the hate and anger I had carried with me was nowhere to be found.  There was no need for me to punish this man...he has done enough of it to himself.  We reconciled during that trip and one year later we said goodbye. 


That past few months of this year were met with surgeries and stays in assisted living facilities.  The man had yet again been given another chance to straighten himself up, but he refused to do any of his physical therapy.  We visited him in the beginning of September.  The first week of October he was gone.  The last thing he said to me was that he was sorry that he was always sick when I saw him.  I knew by his tone he meant not only during these past two years, but when I was younger and he was sick from drug addiction. 


I can't begin to describe how my heart aches at the thought that i will never see, speak to, or know this man anymore.  However, I'm sure this pales in comparison to the remorse and regret I would have bared if I had not reconciled with him.  What hurts even more is that I'm heading in the same direction as him and won't get off my ass to do anything about it.  I'm 26 years old.  I'm overweight.  I'm prediabetic.  I take pills for high blood pressure, insulin resistance, and depression.  I shake my head at my father's actions, yet I do some of the same things myself.  I am a hypocrite and it burdens my heart and mind on a daily basis.


Why am I telling you all of this?  Because maybe I can use it to get the hell off my ass for once.

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