Daddy's Little Girl

I got some pretty bad news earlier this week. My dad has been in a bad car accident out in British Columbia. He went off the side of the road, over a 50 foot embankment...the only thing that stopped him from falling another 100 feet into the river below was a solitary clump of trees.

He knocked out pretty much all of his upper teeth, broke his nose, collarbone, 4 ribs...and had to get around 130 stitches in his face. The paramedics who rescued him came to the hospital the next day to see if he had survived, as they thought that he wouldn't even make it to the hospital let alone make it through his injuries.

The thing about this whole thing is...I don't know how to feel. Yes, I cried....but not right away. Once I finally let myself cry, the next day at work, it was a well of tears. For all the years of sadness...here's the story...

My dad is not my biological father. I did not find this out til I was 21 years old. He raised me and as far as I knew he was my dad. He loved me, scolded me, molded me, helped me...all that stuff that dad's do.

He's been gone for about 5 or 6 years now. I think I've seen him maybe 3 or 4 times since he moved out to BC. My mother and him had a horrible, nasty split. She thinks of him in a not too kind way. I can understand that. He's an addict. He has issues with various substances, ones that are pretty hard to break. How she dealt with that for 15 years and kept it from us and kept our household running, I have no idea. She is my idol for pulling that one off.

To my brothers, Dad is their biological father. We have never thought twice of this. They are my blood, 100%, and always will be. I will never refer to them as my half-brothers or any other term of that kind. They had a difficult time dealing with him leaving. They were at a very impressionable age, and they were pretty much left to me for those first few delicate years. I like to think that I helped them understand a lot of what was going on. No one else would talk to them about it. I like to think that our bond grew even closer as a result of the hardship that we went through. I know that it has. I've never felt closer to them or to my mother than I have in the past few years. We really all came together as a tight-knit unit to get through everything.

When I heard the news of my dad's accident on Wednesday evening, I didn't know what to think . And I felt bad that my initial reaction was not dismay/sadness/etc. If I had heard the same of my mother, I would lose all control. But how do you feel about someone who has pretty much abandoned his children?

He calls my youngest brother sporadically. And from what I gather the conversations are not really of father/son quality. Do you think your 19 year old son wants to know the sordid details of your life? My other brother doesn't really want anything to do with him. I haven't been bothered myself over the past few years.

But, this news got me to thinking...of all the wonderful times we had growing up. Camping...him honking and waving at strangers on the street to make us laugh...making Spanish rice & meatloaf...singing "I got a little change in my pocket, goin' jing-a-lang-a-lang"...play fighting with Blaze...tickling our knees...

It makes me sad to know that when I get married, he won't be the one to walk me down the aisle. (Oh my god...who will take that honor?) He won't be there to see my brothers get married and have kids of their own. He might still be around, but will he be in any shape to be there to see any of it?

Many times over the years since he left, I've wanted to run to my daddy when I've had problems. When I was growing up my mom and I didn't get along all that well. We were both to hot headed and stubborn. So I was always the one to run to my softie dad, who most of the time would defend me from the wrath of my red-headed mother. I can't do that now.

I hate going to friends places or hearing friends talk about how much their dad's do for them. OK, I don't hate it, but you know what I mean. There's that little tinge of jealousy there. I'll admit it. It sucks to have to go from daddy's little girl to none at all.

And, it makes me angry that he could do that to himself and to us. Three great kids who are all alive and healthy and doing well for themselves...yet you choose to move away from us and ruin your life. Get some help! Can't you see that there are people that love you and can love you again??

OK, starting to get upset now. So I am going to walk away from this feeling better that I've vented. But I'm only going to take the good memories with me. Of me and my daddy. And I'll cherish THOSE forever.

*For those of you who will read this and want to talk to me about it, please don't. It's not something I want to have to keep re-hashing over and over. I've dealt with it long ago. It's just this brush with death brought some of it back. So please just let this one ride. Thank you for that*