Tag Archives: Gray Hairs

More on the (Former) Quandry

This ain’t easy.
No one ever said it would be.
I’m sure most of you have read A Double Dad Quandary and the shit-storm that followed. That all began on 6/25/07. It is now 7/6/07. I have received NO communication from the man involved.

The following excerpts are from an email exchange between his wife and I on 6/29.
I have cut the irrelevant parts out, as well as redacted personal information.
Her words are in Italics, my responses to her statements are in bold and my reply to her mail and final overture is in plain text.

I showed those pixs to your father. He doesn’t go on line. He doesn’t know how to use the comp.

Ok, I can understand that. He is old school. Never to late to learn, though.

yes mikeal your father knows what u wrote , I read it to him and he was very hurt.

I’m sorry that I caused him emotional pain. But I was hoping it might make him think…
Edit: I had also meant to say that There’s part of me that doesn’t think he’s even seen or heard it…

by the way we didn’t send u to bible camp, but we did go to church on sunday.
Ummm… I’d call 2 weeks of vacation bible school (If I remember right, it was about 7 hours a day) close enough. Oh Yeah! Match stick crosses! And yes, sometimes you actually did go.

when we lst got with u kids u told me your mother sent u to a camp in the summer. somewhere out near ashford.

No, we lived in Ashford. The only camp I attended was The Susan B. Anthony Camp in Maine when we lived there. And more to the point, I didn’t get sent there, I wanted to go, and begged to go.

I was very hurt to see him so hurt.

Sorry – but did it hurt enough to make him call me? Apparently not.

He’s been thru alot of grief the last 4 years with 2 accidents. he has metal plate and pins in his foot that pains him everyday.don’t u remember him calling u in the mornings about a year ago.

I do remember him calling 3-4 times, but no accident was mentioned that I recall.
I have sympathy for his physical hurts. It’s never a good thing to be in pain.
I’ve been through ” alot of grief” for the last 30 years.

he’s not much for talking on the phone even when his dad calls, he tries to make it short cuz grandpa can talk for hours lol.
Well, when it’s the only option, it’s the only option and you do what you have to. Or, In this case, you don’t.

Sorry this turned into to such an emotional thing
What do you mean, turn into?! It’s always been one! That’s what this is all about!
we were hoping u’d come down sometime.
Probability is very near zero – ever.

The girls are adorable and your father is a big mush with kids.

Yes, they are. Thank you for saying so. And He may well be, I wouldn’t know.

(my emailed reply follows in situ)
If he still wants to visit, this is how it can be. We pick a day in advance, (has to be in advance so Psycho-Momia and I can arrange time off) and he and I can get together and talk. After that, we’ll see. I don’t want to shut him out. He is my dad, and that means a lot. But there is a lot of shit that sits inside me that he needs to know – that I need his answers for. I’m glad that post brought out a lot of stuff, but answers from you don’t cut it.
My cell is often the best way to get me. (phone number redacted) About the only times I don’t answer are when I’m asleep, or at work.
Have him call me, and we’ll work out a time when we can go for a beer or a coffee.
I think it would be best for him to come up here, but it’s negotiable.


So –
It’s been 11 days since I lit this fire, and 7 days since I sent the above. I have gotten no response from Bart. None. If he has indeed been informed of this, he clearly doesn’t give a shit enough to do anything about it. Fuck.

So the story ends here.
Bart Jr., you are welcome to stay in touch. Maybe we can build something.

I will leave comments on this post open for 24 hours or so.
But it’s time to say goodbye to this issue. I don’t need the grief, and neither do the women I love. (Yes, the girls are indeed women…very young ones, but still…)

Sorry for the downer, all.

A double dad quandry

So I’ve had this post percolating in my brain for a few days. So, of course, it won’t be as good as it would’ve been had I just wrote it.

Anyway, being a dad means to be there. Always be there. If life turns in a way that Parents can no longer be partners, still be there. Don’t use the Kids as weapons against one another, don’t forget the kids are there, don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep. Be there financially – even if means you eat ramen, and drink Piels.

Don’t be like my old man, and lead by bad example. He would pop up every few years through my childhood, take us out a couple of times, and then leave us waiting by the window for a man who never came.

In my mid-teens, circumstances came about where I went to live with him. Horrible. I ended up decking his wife (not proud of that, but it was necessary)(and a story for another time.) Not long after that, I split. I don’t think he ever looked for me.

What kind of man is that?

He’s not a bad man, just not a very good one. And a piss poor excuse for a father. His tally: One daughter who wants nothing to do with him, one son who just wants to know why (that’s me…) one step-son who at last word was trying not to be too much of a burden on society, and another son who flunked Kindergarten twice, held up an off duty cop at knifepoint, and has spent (last I knew, anyway) most of his adult life behind bars. (Update: I had felt somewhat concerned about saying this. I mean, what if he had straightened out… But, as I just found that his last arrest was a month and a half ago, for armed robbery amongst other things, I don’t feel bad at all.)

The whole reason behind this, is that he popped up again – sorta. Every six months or so, I get an email, or phone call from his wife – never is it from him. This time she says he’ll be in the area in July, and she’s going to make sure he has my number. I haven’t laid eyes on the SOB for 13 years this time – he’s never met my wife, he knows I have kids, but has never seen them.

Supposedly, he came up this way (he now lives in Florida) last summer, but got lost and couldn’t find my number (strangely enough…it’s actually listed)(under the name he saddled me with)(please don’t prank call me….).

Do I invite him back into my life?
Do I ignore his existence?
Do I deny the girls a chance (slim though it may be) at a Gramppa?
I have to make a decision fairly soon… he’s supposed to be up starting the 10th of July….

The last time I got into this, was in the early 90’s. I chased him down because I was leaving the area, and I knew his brother Kris was in the area I was heading to.
(Sorry, Unca Kris…I know I was not the best person at that time. I still had a lot to learn about life.)

It ended badly. All I wanted was to get a phone call from him on my birthday – not even a card, just a call. Needless to say, it never came. That night, I wrote the following, and sent it to him. Never got a reply – still haven’t.

Years have passed with no sight of you
Tears have drained and I’ve not a clue
Why on that day I waited and waited
And again you didn’t show
Years gone by
Are you ashamed of what I’ve become
Or shamed by what I haven’t done
Alone all those years when I needed someone
To guide me down this rocky road
That you’ve traveled along
And now I’ve started upon
A burning star bright fire
A guiding hand clasped in mine
A wondering child with a thousand questions
Searching for the answers no one else could give
Scared and scarred from a life denied
Something everyone needs to survive
A teacher and a friend
Years gone by I needed you
I learned to cry as I wondered why
You could not be found, You never came around
I learned how to lie, the others kissed you goodbye
Holding on to a fantasy I kept on telling those fucking lies
To myself, making excuses that never helped
Now comes a time we’re reunited once again
Came a day when in my heart I called you friend
Then came that special day when I wanted to say
All those years gone by didn’t matter
That after all this time you still remembered
As well as I do the same for you
Oh, how badly I wanted that fading dream to come true
Time marched on I watched as it ticked away
Waiting for a sign a sight or a simple sound
Day into night night into dawn
None ever came another year gone
Eating away at my soul, the questions rise again
Unwanted but undaunted driving me down
To the foul pits of despair
Celebration of birth ‑ now destroyed
Through all my time curious to my worth
In your world seen through your eyes
Only to find I have none
I can imagine no fate worse
If I have none ‑where were you?
As I walked that road alone
Once again ‑ where were you?

(dedicated to my father) MSA JUNE 8/161992

So faithful readers, what do you think I should do?

What Value hath a Man?

Feeling a bit low. Made the Mistake last night of actually looking at my pay-stub – just under 50% of it gone to deductions. (Taxes, 401k, insurance, etc.) The main reason I work is that I carry all the insurance for the Family – except Psycho-Momia‘s medical. That shit is ridiculously expensive, and we have have fairly good deals. I feel bad for other folx, who might not have as good of benefits.

But still, the non-tangible “pay” of benefits, and knowing that it’s important to have them, doesn’t help the alpha-male “provider” side of me. When I see that my take home pay is roughly a quarter of Psycho-Momia‘s, it’s like a symbolic kick in the balls. Which, I might add, is the worst way to rochambeau someone. Physical pain goes away…

In the day to day, it feels like I work so much, that I never get to be at home with both the girls and Psycho-Momia at the same time.

I am a conflicted man. I have the drummed in values of an older time, where the “man of the house” brings the money, and supports his family, while the “lady of the house” takes care of home, hearth, and kinder… those things are deep within me after years of social indoctrination. Kind of in the monkey brain. Logically, I know that it’s bogus – but it’s very hard to grasp it emotionally…..

Quick Post script: I understand that the previous may not make sense. I am experiencing the much dreaded “clopen” wherein you “Clo”se the store, and then o”pen” the store the next morning. Therefore, I have gotten about 4 hours of sleep since 6 yeaterday morning.