Well I’m getting pretty good at this whole “finding my father” game now a days, as it only took me half a day to find him. It isn’t easy being a dysfunctional cog in a really big, fucked up machine but some of us have to do it. This sitcom runs in real world time as I hadn’t heard from my father since Christmas time. I have always envied the fact that he escaped from New Hampshire and disappeared into obscurity down in Florida, but the fact remains that as his only child I am going to worry about him when he disconnects yet another phone around the time he forgets about my birthday. Old and tired is how you describe the hermit shtick that my father lives by, and between him and my mother I always have to wonder why I was stuck being the parent to 3 kids, a grandmother and quite often my own parents.
Now with that said the man who runs the bar down there that had confirmed seeing him yesterday found it quite fascinating that I actually insisted that he take my phone number as well as the message for him to call me? Should there actually be some sort of shock in anyone when a man is calling a bar to try to find his father? I’ve seen enough episodes of *insert any old dysfunctional sitcom here* to realize myself that that is horribly un-normal behavior that requires nothing more than apathy. It is after all what I am used to from the whole world according to my family. I used to have to do this when I was younger to, but at the very least I was in the same town and he did tend to remember his own phone number.
Today I have to track him down for some of the most peculiar things actually which even as thrown into this drama sound fishy. I happen to have problems with a credit reporting agency that has merged my father and me into one human being. Even as they have both of our social security numbers in the file, they won’t change me to myself without talking to him. It’s really quite sad because I am trying to get a loan, and don’t qualify because he has like 7 open and unused credit lines. The bank seems to think I don’t need the credit because of this and on the surface they are correct except for one thing. I don’t have 50,000$ worth of unused credit lines so YES I DO. They don’t care, so now I am forced to hunt down a person that would rather not be hunted down for the sake of getting my life straitened out as he so desperately yearns to have his screwed up.
It’s all part of that sick cycle carousel that has plagued many generations of my family and here I am 37 years old and worried about my own children and my own well being thanks to yet another generation of running and hiding. It’s ok for the most part as he learned no better. It takes everything in me not to run away screaming most days myself and at the very least I can say that my father did raise me to the best of his ability. I do my best as well and have rather come to understand what it is that makes us the way we are. It was the lack of comprehension of what our issues were to begin with. He like I had the fantasies of what our lives would be that didn’t pan out and now like he had, I am stuck with kids plotting my escape from them at my earliest convenience. Back to the issue at hand I sit and wait for my father to hopefully call me so that I can get everything else straitened out.
It’s pretty strange actually as I wonder aloud, as I always do if I am going to simply spend the next 12 years feeling like a hostage to my own children. I could see it in my father just about everyday once I was old enough to realize what that look truly was. My mother never helped him with me, no support, no relief by even watching me, and as I go through it that look is that of a man just waiting for time to pass. I say it a lot but the crucial times are upon me as I am watching my grandmother and my aunt working on the plans to remodel the house so that her and her husband can move in. They did consult me on it but realistically I just threw my hand up and assumed it was easier to just leave it at “whatever’ then to even think my opinion mattered. What are two more people to make me feel like a prisoner in my own home after all? It all doesn’t change a thing realistically because they dominate my home whether they live here or not. At least I was smart enough to not spend my last 200 dollars to fix the windshield on my minivan since it usually just becomes their back up vehicle, so it isn’t inspected or registered. That’s one less thing to worry about anyway.
The combined chaos of simply eliminating things from my own life simply to keep it simpler from those in my family that will take them again reminds me why my father escaped and why he remains hidden. As I had said before it is jealousy really, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t want to whine and cry because whether I like it or not I really wish I had a parent. All the whining in the world won’t change that and despite how strong I can be perceived on the outside I don’t like being in these funks as the reality of what I am just hits me really hard some days. I’m not actually depressed unfortunately but I think that often the other thing that happens during times like these may be far worse. I’m totally an without avail, apathetic ;8o)
Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, fuck ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy
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Jeremy Fink and The Crow's Nest