Water from Your Spring
What was in that candles light
That opened and consumed me so quickly?
Come back my friend! The form of our love
is not a created form.
Nothing can help me but that beauty.
There was a dawn I remember
When my soul heard something
from your soul. I drank water
from your spring and felt
the current take me.
Rumi
Ok, ok....I know that was cold blooded how I ended that last post, but someone had commented before about my long posts, and it was getting a little long ::smile:: or maybe I did want to end it on a suspenseful note ::shrugs::: I wasn't trying to be mean. honest.
To answer another question, the things I talk about relating to my past are not exerpts from a book or related to the books I am writing. One of the books I'm writing is a cookbook, and the other is a book about cops. I did at one point start writing a book about my life, and maybe one day I'll dig that stuff out and post it, but for now, if I write about my past, its just things that come across my mind, or dreams and i feel i have to get them out...a cleansing of sorts. For example, I wrote about some things my mother and her friend pete had said when I was little...and it wasn't till I wrote about it that I realised how over it I was...it just didn't have the capability of hurting me anymore...heh, maybe if I write about other things, it can just as cathartic....wouldn't that be nice.
my dear blog. my own lil happy pill.
continued from previous entry....
....my dad takes the phone "Hello love" he bellows into the phone, "I was wondering when you would finally call me." I never got around to asking him, why he never called me...if I did, i forget...I do think I remember him saying that my mother made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him, so he backed off.
We spoke about trivial things for a few moments, and it became clear we were less than 2 miles from each other, and could meet at any time. So we made a date to meet, at a small restaraunt on Main Street, and set the time for the next morning. I was giddy. I was excited...this was my father .... MY father....forget this animal of a stepfather I lived with all my life, who thought he had an inkling of what it was like to be a MAN, no less a FATHER.
We met the next morning, me biting fingernails already bitten to the quick the night before. My first reaction...honestly? Damn, he's kind of old. Me 17, he was already 62...(an interesting fact my mom neglected to mention). Full head of white hair, white beard stubble, short, deep voice, and nice eyes. From that day on, every time he kissed me, he would rub his stubble, and go "damn girl, you need a shave".
My memory, as I may have mentioned before, is shot. I've had psychiatrists tell me that I have "repressed memories". Basically when a person has memory gaps, they've built walls around painful and hurtful experiences, and they supress them, deep in their subconcious, it is as if the body is warring against the soul by blocking memories or dreams that would unleash a torrent of anguish. Sometimes I try and think really hard to remember some things, but whole chunks...years...of my life, they are just not there...or are hidden so deeply...sometimes I wish I could remember....other times, I think I remember quite enough, thank you very much.
That day...we were more like two lovers meeting for the first time (and no i'm not saying anything freaky happened so keep your Oedipus comments to yourself) but we sat close to each other, we held hands, we barely ate a thing on our plates and we stared into each others eyes...i'm so sure no one seeing us would have thought we were father and daughter. But it was like we no longer wanted any space between us and we talked and talked for hours. Can I tell you a thing we spoke about? no. I don't remember, I only remember the feeling, the feeling of being at my base, the source of my river, and it was bliss.
Our relationship from that point on fluctuated wildly, we were so much alike. Hard headed, secretive, comedic, curious, social, selfish, alphas, independent, but i think most of all, we were both in a lot of pain. We loved, fought, talked, screamed, laughed and cried many times over the next few years. I stayed with him and his wife for a while, but that never worked out. He wanted to make up for the lost years of being a father, I was 17, 18, 19....what kid that age wants a dad? He pushed, I pushed back harder, his wife was a controlling nazi and eventually I just went my own way.
I didn't even take it hard, I mean what the fuck...I had already beenthrough the ringer, abusive home, runaway, in a runaway home, slept on the street, slept on park benches..abandoned buildings....I had proven to myself, if nothing else, that I was a survivor. It's only when you are down to nothing..I mean down to a fucking blank page and your mother, your father (or should I say his wife), say they can't do anything for you...because they have their own lives to think about, that you realize, "hey, i'm in this shit alone...it's just me. Sink or swim...make a choice."
I regret not getting to know my dad better. We were just so happy to have found each other, then we got so busy being mad at each other for one reason or another...was I mad at him for not being there for me...maybe...I probably was...no reason was ever good enough why he never came to find me....get me....save me.
I found a lot of things about him that showed his all too human side, he was a philanderer of the highest order. Had been most of his life. As a young man he was considered the black Cary Grant, the black Valentino.....with his swarthy Italian/Black good looks, beautiful head of hair, and a personality that wouldnt quit, he swept many, many women off their feet. He'd been with his wife many years and had about that many affairs. She opened his car trunk once, to find an empty bottle of wine, a picnic basket and a blanket in it.....and it was not used on her. He liked being in control, but his wife was the one in control, of the house, the bills, him....so he did the only thing she couldn't control, which was, be with other women. often. I hated his wife so much, I couldnt even be mad at him for being such a slut, I felt sorry for him, which ultimatly I think is why I eventually grew to resent him.
On another note...he loved to talk. Talk, talk, talk. He would segway from one conversation to another seamlessly.
"I was talking to my friend the other day about the new house, and the umbrella we bought for the deck...."
"speaking of umbrellas, have you seen the new hats with the umbrellas on top?"
"speaking of top, we have to put a new roof on the store"
"speaking of store, when are you gonna get the rest of your junk out the basement?"
and it would go on and on and on....
and he could tell jokes like nobody's business, and they would be so cooorny, but he would laugh so hard, you could do nothing but laugh with him. I still tell his corny jokes to this day. Jessica loves em.
In 1997 he had a stroke. He was with a young woman, in one of the apartments he rented out, and it is assumed they were having sex, because he was parially dressed when the ambulance came and his wallet was later found behind the radiator. Dad was 76 years old, getting his freak on with a 20 something, girl from the neighborhood. Turns out, he was taking care of her and her 3 children. All the money he had saved, all the money he got from his wife for an allownace(?), gone..all of it. His wife was pissed, can't say I blame her, but i wonder why he felt the need to do all of this. It's been said he never left because everything he had, was tied up with his wife, she was younger, smarter, and meaner than him and would have left him with nothing, and not a pot to piss in. sort of makes sense.
(As it is, I don't own anything that I can say belonged to my dad. When he died his wife got everything. I asked for something I could have to remember him by, and being her usual, selfish self, she gave me a tin cookie box filled with reciepts, a broken watch, a couple of business cards, and a ripped tie. Did I mention how much that woman irked me? thoughtless, thoughtless woman. I don't know what she did with all of his things, she claimed everything in the house belonged to her alone, not him. It's almost like he never had anything, like she erased his existance. Out of spite, she never boguth him a headstone....he's in a grave, with no headstone.)
I went to the hospital to see him after he had the stroke, his right side was paralyzed, and as a side effect, he couldn't talk. (I can't help but think this is what really made it hard for him, losing his ability to speak. he could have gotten no greater punishment) He laid there, just looking at me, he tried to write something on paper, but it came out a scrawl and just frustrated him more. As the next few days went by he just laid there. I went to see him the night before he died, and I just talked and talked. I told him I loved him, as I walked around straightening up the room. I noticed his nails were filthy (he repaired antiques) so I took a clipper out my pocketbook, and reached for his hand, and he snatched it away. I snatched it back and smacked him lightly on the back of his hand and told him to "cut it out" and started cleaning his nails. When I looked up he was crying. Was it the feeling of being helpless?...was it not being able to comunicate? Was it something else? who knows. I asked why he was crying, he just shook his head, I said "you know I love you right" and he nodded. I don't know why he cried...I know he was a sad and complicated man that I will never truly know. and I miss him.
I was water from his spring, but I shall never know the source. and that makes me sadder than anything in this world.
Im sorry for another long post, I start and it just keeps coming, but i do thank everyone for reading and for the great comments, just because I don't get a chance to answer each comment individually, all the time, doesnt mean they don't each touch me in some way.
Oh my God. To say anything would, in my opinion, cheapen the beautifully written, powerful and I don't even know what else to say...wow. I admire you.
Posted by
Black Wombmyn Chat |
2:15 PM EDT
Midlife, I just read the whole post again for the first time since I wrote it, and I just cried, and cried...It's going to take me a minute to be able to write another post.
thank you for your comment. I'm not worthy of admiration, or maybe it's just too hard for me to take a compliment. But thank you.
Posted by
chase |
3:17 PM EDT
Oh Chase, this was lovely, and if anything, too short. I was sorry to see it end. My eyes are leaking too.
Clearly, you have inherited your father's gift of storytelling.
Thank you for sharing this with us.
Posted by
Peggasus |
3:33 PM EDT
Simply {{{ Chase}}}}..No other words.
Posted by
Heidi |
8:51 PM EDT
Chase,
Wow. This was a very touching post. I am glad you are writing all of this out....
I am going to write more later. I really hope that you start to feel better. I stayed up ALL night last night. Sometimes sleep is what the doctor ordered.
Anna
Posted by
Motherhood is Here |
11:26 PM EDT
You love Rumi (and Hena). That makes too of us. Rumi inspires all time.
Posted by
S A J Shirazi |
2:45 AM EDT
Peggasus, coming from you thats a real compliment...its amazing when a story can touch another like that ::smile::
Heidi- thank you once more for blessing e with your presence.
poorart - had I known you were up all night too, I would have called ::smile::
shirazi - yes, rumi does inspire me so.
Posted by
chase |
3:20 AM EDT
Thank you for stopping by ... it led me here. Beautiful post, Ms Chase.
Posted by
rizlablue |
8:09 AM EDT
I think its really wonderful that you found him, even if later in life, and that you had such a positive relationship. I think the greatest thing you could have done for him at that point in his life was to call him up and meet him, and I'm sure it made him happier than he'd ever been.
Love and Peace,
Johnny V. <3 <3
Posted by
Mr. Death |
11:14 AM EDT
Amazing. Simply amazing!
Posted by
Dr. Deb |
6:19 PM EDT
Use as many words as you need to convey what you want to say. Anyone who complains about long posts can go read a cartoon stip and leave the rest of us to revel in the well-worded memoirs you write. Your story was touching, Chase. In ways that you'll never know.
Posted by
Chele |
10:47 PM EDT
mudflower - I am humbled by your presence.
rizlablue - thank you, what a great blog you have. :)
pisces, your so right....
mr death...you see right to the core of me :)
Deb - thank you very much
Posted by
chase |
10:47 PM EDT
chele! don't encourage me....lol
I can be pretty lobg winded at times. lol
Posted by
chase |
10:48 PM EDT
Your blog is very interesting and very touching. It's yours to do as you need to do. We are only visitors who will come because we like what we read.
Posted by
Rose |
1:32 PM EDT
What a wonderfully touching post - thank you for sharing.
You have a glorious written voice.
Posted by
Michele |
1:19 AM EDT
Beautiful. Michele sent me and I am glad she did.
Posted by
Anonymous |
7:14 AM EDT
Great post, that was really well written.
Michele sent me here.
Posted by
Jean-Luc Picard |
7:49 AM EDT
hi! thanks for the visit and for taking the time to leave a comment on the tagboard. haloscan was probably down. :( anyways, i enjoyed your post. i actually like long posts sometimes because it says a lot about the person who wrote it. :)
Posted by
ribbiticus |
7:53 AM EDT
Chase how courageous of you. You don't realize how many people that you have helped. I'm sure writing this was an outter-body experience.....thanks for your bravery.
Posted by
MIZPOWDERPINK |
11:25 AM EDT
Hi Chase, came back to read again. I just don't know what to say. Thanks for sharing your story. Hope you will share more.
Posted by
Motherhood is Here |
1:37 AM EDT
Just,checking.back.in.
Hope.all,is.well.
Posted by
Heidi |
9:40 PM EDT
Chase,
I just don't know what to type. How you found your father, met him, what you went through, you're so strong. And I have a hard time reading extra-long posts but I read BOTH entries so easily, because it was so well written. I'm sorry I can't say a damn thing, I'm speechless.
Posted by
Anonymous |
5:46 PM EDT
wow!!!
thats all I can say is wow
this gives me the inspiration to share more of what Im goin thru or have gone thru in my blog
great post chase
you give me the strength to handle what Im goin thru
and I promise I will sahre it on my blog
Posted by
AJ WOODSON |
4:28 PM EST
Best regards from NY!
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Posted by
Anonymous |
2:18 AM EDT
This is very interesting site...
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Posted by
Anonymous |
7:51 AM EST