Tiniest Sparkle of Hope

Do I have to accept that I lost not only my mom, but also my dad?

Accepting this was difficult, should I even accept it or just deal with it? I’ve been going through the process of figuring out how to accept some things and how to just deal with the others. While doing this I’ve learned a lot about myself. The biggest things I have learned are how to be honest with myself,  how to look at these questions and situations with multiple perspectives and accept that I can’t control my feelings, they are a natural thing. Today I was faced with this question: Do I accept that I lost not only my mom, but also my dad?

I have had a lot of thoughts since the tragedy. What could I have done for this not to happen  and all of those “what if” thoughts. Then the how am I going to make it through life without my mama thoughts.  The list goes on, but the one I kept pushing to the side was: I know I lost my mom, but did I loose my dad too? Why would/should I feel sad if I did loose him, after all that he has done?  As time passed these thoughts started to fade. Then I heard one little thing today and the one thought I kept pushing away would not let me push anymore.

Over the past few months I have said this monster deserves absolutely nothing and maybe a few other things that I don’t need to post. But that’s a normal and natural response to have. He took my rock. I don’t have my mom here and never will again. If someone was to ask me now to think about him, all I would think about is how the past 5-10 years have just been filled with lies and broken promises. But if they asked me 2 years ago, I would say all the great qualities of a dad he was, all the things he taught me, and the good times we shared. Why did I always say the positives then? I knew it wasn’t great, I knew he had a drinking problem and lied to me. But I always gave him the benefit of the doubt and had big hopes that he would change. At one point in time he was a sober man and a good father. I pushed the lies and pain away because I knew how good the good times were. You could say I was blinding myself from the bad that was happening.

Now I think back to middle school we made the “I’ll stop biting my nails if you stop smoking” agreement. That was just a let down. He just would not smoke at home or around me, he was sneaky. I remember the day I found a pack of cigs in his truck and the feeling of disappointment run through me. Then in high school and college his drinking intensified and he would promise to get help, but never followed through. I would even help make appointments, look at rehabs, etc. It was all just a waste of time. Then he said “I’ll drink non-alcoholic beer, I only drink beer because of the taste”,(insert eye-roll) but then I found Budlight in the garage. I saw it right in the fridge while he was out there one day working.  And again the disappointment I felt in my dad just got worse and more bitter. With my sassy and unimpressed self I said to him “Weird, last time I check Budlight is an alcoholic beer must be they changed it just for you”. I mean the stories like these go on and on and I can still feel the disappointment I felt when they happened . He would last 2 days sober then be right back to his alcoholic self. One time he lasted 3 weeks sober and I really thought things were turning around. But nah, that was me just getting my hopes up again.

So what made this question come up today and why can’t I push it away any further?

Today I heard that he doesn’t leave his cell in prison. At first I said good, he deserves to be miserable. Then I pictured it in my head and I felt bad for him. WHAT? WHY DO I FEEL BAD FOR THIS MONSTER? Then I’m pissed at myself for feeling bad. It bothered me all day. After all the hurt he has caused me I still feel a little for him, it’s not fair. On my way home I called Amber explaining all these thoughts and the disappointed I have towards myself. She said Bai, you’re heart is so big just like mom’s. You have always given him another chance or the benefit of the doubt. You were the last person to give up on him. That really hit me and after thinking about it I realized I was. I was the last person to cut ties with him. I was the last person that had that glimmer of hope that things would change one day because I knew when he was sober how great of a dad he could be. Unfortunately though the amount of time he was sober was rapidly decreasing while his drunken state was rapidly increasing and I couldn’t help anymore. I had enough going on I shouldn’t have to parent my parent.

After being the nice “I’m here for you dad” type of daughter, to begging and pleading with him to change, to fighting, yelling, and crying to him just to stop or lessen his drinking. I didn’t know what to do. I was always asking myself, why does he keep choosing alcohol over his family? It was so frustrating and degrading. I was out of ideas on how to fix him. I realized that you can’t help someone who wont help themselves. The only thought I had left was tough love. I told him you stay sober for a year, join AA, get your life together then you can have a part in my life. I will welcome you with open arms. Until you are sober for a year and continue to stay sober it’s goodbye for now…. Guess how long he lasted? A week. Yup, that’s right. I said a fucking WEEK. That’s me being generous about it too, it may have been 5 days. How pathetic. The rage I had was unreal. He made me feel so small, helpless, and stupid. He choose booze over his own daughter; the one person who is still trying to have a relationship with him.  Even though I cut ties I still had the tiniest sparkle of hope that maybe one day he would realize he has nothing and would want to change and be a part of my life.

People have asked me if I feel like I lost my “father” as well as my mom through this whole thing. My response has been no, I hadn’t talked to him for 9 months before this. He was already absent in my life so that was no change. But today I realized I lost the dad I was hoping for and knew he could be. Deep down I know that being in that cell is killing him that he could never sit still. He was always fixing stuff, outside working on a project, or doing something. That’s why I felt bad, I thought of the sober dad I had. Do I think he deserves that prison cell? HELL YES. He is a terrible person, a monster if you will. But is it okay for me to have those positive memories of sober dad? Today it was VERY hard to accept that because I didn’t want to. I want to erase him totally from my memories, but that’s not possible. So I have to accept that I do have these positive memories of who he was and that’s okay. Unfortunately  that’s not who he is now and a 2 second drunken decision he made FUCKED UP EVERYBODY’S life and now he has to pay for what he did and he deserves that. I think he deserves worse, but I’m not a judge.

Today I accepted that not only am I mourning the loss of my mom, I’m mourning the loss of the dad I had at one point in time and had always hoped to get back. I never would have thought I would say I was sad about loosing him. I’m not sad at all about loosing this monster he turned into. I’m glad that man will never have anything to do with my life or family. Though I’m sad that I lost the dad I knew he could of been if he had just chose his family. On May 15th I lost my mom and that tiny sparkle of hope that I held onto for my ‘old dad to come back’.

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