Mum sold our family home thinking she would never move back and the country life would be her destiny. Not! The house they moved into was fairly large and virtually in the middle of nowhere and Mum at first loved it and John was slowly becoming accustomed to this new country life only because he really didn’t have a choice now and had to make the most of it. He got himself some homing pigeons, chooks and ducks which he loved to look after and he was quite happy but Mum ironically started to feel isolated because she was so far away from everything and everyone and regretted selling her house. But what was she going to do? She decided she also had to accept where she was and that our family home was no longer hers and that she too had to make the most of where she was.
After thirteen years of living there, John became sick. He had been diagnosed with bowel cancer and it was spreading to his liver and at the time, I didn’t realize how seriously ill he was and because John being a strong and fit man, I never thought something like this could ever take him down, so I never really worried too much. In my mind a few treatment sessions would cure him. I was obviously in denial.
It wasn’t until me and my bitch partner at the time went and had lunch at a tavern with Mum and John.
We met in the carpark and when John got out of the car I then realized how ill he really was. Trying to be strong, I went up to him and put my arms around him and hugged him. I then took his hand, held it tight and walked with him in front of my Mum and bitch partner and walked toward the tavern. After a couple of hours, John was getting very tired and it was time we left. If only I had known that would be the last time I ever saw John alive. Don’t ever take people’s lives for granted and think they will be here for ever. That day I could have said goodbye or I love you. Fuck! It still hurts!
In loving memory of John
My faith and trust in men was destroyed until my mother met you, making her one of the happiest women in the world for twenty four years. I never knew my mother to be so content with any other man, not even my father. She adored you and it showed in every way. The love and respect you had for one another, you don't find very often. You had a kind and gentle heart and were one of the easiest people to get along with. Your witty sense of humour was always welcoming and it was never judgemental on anyone’s part. You also never put anyone down although I had seen you annoyed at times but that’s normal, you were only human and when your human left this world, you took a piece of my Mums heart with you. You always did say you hoped you would go first because you could never handle it the other way around, now that is true love. It’s been nearly five years since you left and I know Mum misses you terribly and I don’t think time will ever make a difference because I still see and hear her cries sometimes and it hurts me because I feel her pain but there is nothing I can do but to give her a big hug.
I was so very proud to call you my step dad and I thank you for making my Mum happy; we all are. I will always love, miss and be thankful for your existence John (Dad)
My Dad
My Dad was twenty-three when I was born and stood around 5”8 with a short dark greasy rock n roller style hair do. He was a very handsome dude back then with gorgeous bright green eyes.
He too had been married three times; the first being to my Mum who had three children to him. The second marriage consisted of one child whom I have been close to on and off throughout the years but she has shut herself off from me too many times so I don’t bother trying to get close to her anymore. In my father’s third marriage, he had another two children but I don’t see them.
Apparently my Dad only got his fatherly instincts when I was born.
Why me? Obviously he had matured more when I was born and finally realized he had a responsibility in being a father.
Because of this, it just happened to be me he ever changed diapers for and he even took the liberty to name me. From birth to the time he left as such, I always felt like his little princess.
Maybe this could explain that when he did leave, I felt as though I was affected the most or so I thought at the time. Looking back now and even though they were older and could understand more, it still must have hurt as much for my brother and sister. I have often felt that my brother and sister have thought I was more special to my father than them but this is not the case. I never felt any more special at all because not only did he abandon them, he abandoned me as well.
I know deep down and as sad as it is to say, Dad leaving has affected each of us, in our own different way.
To me when one parent who impacted your early years in life and not just mine but my siblings also, it has to affect you in some way.
So what impact would this have on myself personally and my future?
While growing up, it was always in the back of my mind and I often wondered, “How could the only man in my life whom I loved, just up and leave?”
How was one supposed to feel other than anger and being envious of those who had a home with both a Mother and Father? I felt rejected, abandoned and always fearful of never being good enough not to mention my faith and trust had been destroyed completely.
It never got any better either. It seemed to get worse as I got older. Seeing the abuse of alcohol, drugs and violence only in men caused me to despise them all and I couldn’t help the way I felt. I would look at them as if they were pieces of shit and all tarred with the same brush. This wasn’t a very nice way to live my life and it was affecting my everyday living.
Even though my father wasn’t an abusive man toward my Mum or us kids, there was one incident I do remember when he was though. I was around three or four at the time and it really frightened me big time. My father had come home drunk and for some reason he was in a really bad mood and because of this he started picking on my Mum which started an argument between them. Mum, back then didn’t tolerate shit from anyone, especially my Dad so she did her best and tried to ignore him. This wasn’t working so she took me into their bedroom to get away from him but it only made matters worse. He didn’t like being ignored so he followed us and because his anger and frustrations had got the better of him he threatened to shoot the both of us. My mum then started yelling at him that he was nothing but a drunken bastard and to go to bed. Wrong! He then turned into a raving lunatic, dropped to the floor and crawled under the bed to get his rifle. When he got up, he pointed it straight at us and then decided to bail us up in the bedroom corner. All I remember doing was crying and screaming and wondering why my Daddy wanted to hurt me or my Mummy? My Mum was so scared for me that she wrapped her body around me whilst trying to calm him down enough so we could make a run for it to the neighbour's house and call the police. But what happened next, I would call a miracle and God was obviously watching over us! Dad all of a sudden had this uncontrollable urge to pee and bolted to the toilet. This was the lucky break we needed to get out and Mum didn't waste any time either. First she had to make sure Dad was nowhere to be seen and when there was no sign of him she quickly huddled with me to get out of the house. Once we were out, she grabbed my hand and we both ran as fast as we could to the neighbour's (Elaine’s) house. Once there, Mum was bashing on her door and as soon as Elaine opened it, Mum said, “Quick, call the police.” (We never had a telephone back then) Elaine certainly didn’t hesitate at all.
Knowing they had been called, Mum decided it would be pretty safe to go back home because they never took long back in those days.
The police virtually arrived all of about five minutes later and to their surprise, my father had showered and dressed all ready to go with them to the police station.
I mean, what idiot does that? They must have thought he was a nut!
The
