I want to sincerely apologize for the lack of posts in the last 2 weeks. There's been a lot of things going on on my end and I haven't been creative enough to write anything. Unfortunately this is another serious, analytical post. Sigh? I know...me too. This cloud over my head is nearly gone. I promise. Hopefully. Faithfully. Fingers crossed.
I've been putting off this topic since there really wasn't any kind of resolution to talk about, until last night.
I uh, I had a conversation with my step dad last night. The only thing though is, he's deceased and it was in my dreams. Now I know what you're thinking, a soft exhale of air as your roll your eyes and decided to go to another blog. That's cool. That's alright, but I'm not crazy and more important I'm not here for your approval. That "conversation", that peaceful place we were last night took us 8 years to do, but he died last year which prevented us from actually doing it in the flesh. A scar I've carried around for 352 days, he died Feb 3rd, 2010.
We hadn't talked in 2 years, especially when I moved to Chicago. To tell the story of us would be like reading the dictionary to you, long and tedious but each word, full of meaning and significance.
The dream though was nothing important. Lol. It's funny cause when I initially woke up, I was angry with myself. Annoyed rather. Lately I've been having these dreams where I'm doing some kind of task from start to finish. Washing, folding and hanging all of my laundry (that was last night's). Or walking around an airport trying to find my blue luggage only realizing that it was black 2 hours in and starting the process all over. Or doing the dishes. Ugh it just annoyed me cause I realized my head can't stop thinking! Even when I'm sleep. It's not peaceful and honestly it's pretty sad.
So those were my thoughts as I was waking but then it popped in my head. My dad was there. Like really there. Walking around, going to the bathroom. Watching an NBA game. Cooking Ramen Noodles. Seasoning the bowl with pepper and a large dose of hot sauce. Drinking something out of cup. Slurping a little like he always did (here's where I start to cry. No I'm fine, it's just. Those are the memories I miss. His numbed finger nails and how he always smelt like cigarette ashes and basketball leather. A scent I really do adore.) Doing the all things he would totally do when we were okay.
At first I thought this dream was in the past, when I was like 15 or so. Before our problems with each other started to snowball and were vocalized more. But then I tried to remember the details. We casual talked about Santana and how he pees in the house. He told me I needed to take him out more but I explained that Santana pees to mark his territory and not to release cause he needs too. I embellished on a fact I created years back and told him "the vet" told me it was because he wasn't neutered and that he still has an instinct to do so (lie).
After about an hour of me doing the laundry, which really was me moving all of my clean clothes from a pile on my couch to a pile on my bed, my brother came in. Now the next sibling after me is my 21 year old brother (remember I have 6 of these little mofos). When I came back from college, I was on the outs with my dad (step dad) but Jay really seemed to be a father figure for me. Even though he was 16, I honetsly think he liked the role. I was what, a 20/21 year old, reckless college kid, not talking to my dad but having the best sex of my lifeand the most fun ever.
Now, Jay and I never really talked about anything serious so I don't know why he had that role. Maybe it was because the whole family came together again (my mom, dad, me and our other little brother) to watch him play his high school basketball games twice a week and on those days he was poppa bear. We wanted him to be happy. We anxiously waited for him to warm up and eagerly waved from the stands. Ugh, lol, we couldn't wait to hear his name called as the starting point guard or when he would effortlessly dish the ball to his post player before the crowd went wild. Then, after the games, we all would socialize with the rest of the families, waiting for the players to come out the locker room. Lol, I couldn't wait for him to acknowledge me, after he got done talking to the press and patrons so I could tell him he did a great job and that I loved him. I couldn't see those days for what they were but they were pretty awesome. Hindsight is always 20/20 you know?
Me and my brother's relationship would soon take a turn that I still regret, over words I said in an angry moment because a month into his senior year basketball season, unknowing to us at the time, he would start to show signs of schizophrenia. The brother that I held on a pedestal, the one I had the utmost love for, would slowly drift away (that's another post tho...sigh again huh? yeah I know).
Anyway, he, Jay, showed up in the dream and we, (the three of us) talked about the numerous amount of books I had and how I should weed through them and give some of them away. Then I woke up I guess.
The point of this whole post is too say that I'm still healing. As a kid who's had a rather rough but awesome childhood, I'm still healing. The next chapter of my life, going into 2011, starts with me packing up my loft in Chicago and moving back home. I miss my family and it's time. Denver is not a tainted city for me anymore. It doesn't represent the hurt cause by an ex and the pain of ignoring a father. My time in Chicago is equivalent to time spent in the burn unit of a hospital. My wounds were wrapped with gauze and tended too.
Yes I over analyzed for most of it, but I'm ready to head back to CO a new person and be the chick I used to be. Fun loving, silly and free. I'll be moving in with my 89 year old aunt, living rent free as I create the life I've always dreamed of. Putting the time, energy and money into my thrift store and youth program. Living rent free in the home I foresee myself (future husband and kids) growing old in. I won't be moving back to the suburbs, thank God. The house is downtown, similar to Bucktown in Chicago. Littered with mom and pop stores, historic buildings, tattoo parlors and indie bars. This is the place I belong and I can't wait to get home and get started.
I leave, still healing, on the 31st.
[I know you were with me last night Dad and into the morning. I smelt smoke twice. I love you and I'm sorry that we were both stupid all those years. I carried a lot of pain dealing with my biological dad and misplaced it on you. I've said it once and I'll say it again, so much of you lives in me. I wouldn't have been the same person if I grew up with him raising me. With you I turned out funnier and athletic (not so much now but I'm working on it). With you I traveled the state and had MY DAD as a coach. You loved me when you didn't have too. I bare your last name not his and for a long time I hated it because I wasn't "officially" his. I took for granted I was yours and I'm so sorry. All of my childhood memories include you and all the bad memories disappeared when I found out you died. I wish you were here to give a speech at my wedding, to make a toast and to share a father daughter dance. I thought we had time. Time to mend a relationship that was broken. Last night we were mended, we were fine and now I know we really are. I'm afraid of death. I'm scared of leaving this earth without experiencing love from a husband and the pride of being a mother. I'm worried that I wasted all my twenties, jumping from one career to another and now that I know what I really want, I'm afraid I don't have time to make it all happen. But, if me leaving this Earth and faithfully speaking, making it to heaven, seeing your face, that smile and hearing your voice again, then it would all be worth it. I have two fathers and am so lucky since there's people out there with none. I know you loved me and that you are proud of me and honestly, through everything, I'm proud of you too. I love you so much and miss you to the point I can't even think of it. Save a pair of angel wings for me, pink ones if they have them and tell God I'm not ready yet but that I love him too. ~Your daughter]
My life should be pretty interesting....stay tuned.......
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