Heavy Heart...Broken heart

**Holy cow this is long and drawn out, I apologize, this is for my own need to get this out...feel free to skip it!**

It is 3:30am and I can't sleep. I have had something fairly serious on my mind for a couple of days (well years, but even more prominent lately) and thought if I wrote about it, maybe it would help. What is it? My father. Our ever conflicted relationship (or lack of relationship) weighs heavily on my heart always, but at times it becomes impossible to shake him and our problems out of my head and ignore. It is entirely possible (but highly unlikely) that he reads this blog. I wouldn't know. I have spoken to him maybe 5 times in 6 years. So, if he reads this...so be it. I won't censor my blog to "shelter" his needs.

My parents divorced when I was 10. Dad was supposed to get us every other weekend. He lived like 2 miles away with my Grandfather at first. We (my brother and I) were lucky to see him once every couple of months. He was busy living up the single life (or, as I now know, too busy with his new girlfriend that was the final straw in my parents marriage). Once he moved in with said girlfriend (who shortly became my step-mother) his visitation was even less frequent. I didn't understand this. I was 10 for cripes sake. All I know is that my brother and I made life a living hell for my mom as we KNEW it was her fault that Dad didn't want anything to do with us. We were rotten to her. It was her fault, in our minds, that they divorced. She did something wrong we thought. Little did we know. All I know is that I missed my Dad (who in all honesty didn't really have much to do with us when they were married either, so why should it get better with the divorce?).

Fast forward a few years...Dad and step-mom had moved an hour away, brother wanted to live with Dad so badly that he made everyones lives living hell (NOT his fault, just a product of a young boy missing his father during a divorce, THOUGHT it would be great to be with Dad). Mom made the hardest decision of her life and finally let brother go live with Dad (brother has since admitted that this was a huge mistake). I don't recall visiting Dad very often then either, it was too inconvenient to drive the hour to get me. Dad and step-mom announce they are pregnant and I am so excited at the idea of a little brother/sister. I must admit that I liked my step-mother. I thought she was so cool because she was so young (put this into perspective that she is damn near close to the same age as my HUSBAND!). I couldn't wait to have a baby in the family as I have always loved babies. I was 14 when Michael was born. I loved him to pieces. It is noticed that I am spending more time with Dad and family after Michael was born. I thought it was great, but I did have to stop and think about this once a well meaning family member mentioned that of course I was able to visit more....who wouldn't want a built in babysitter on weekends. (Plus by this point I had my own car and was able to drive when he was 2) But, this didn't matter to me. I love Michael, and would have spent every minute I could with him and LOVED it....on the weekends it was almost like he was MY baby! I still love him with my whole heart.

Dad and I have had many falling outs of the years. When I changed colleges after my first year, it was the biggest mistake I could make according to him. Mom supported me whole heartedly as usual. When I applied to nursing school he laughed at me saying I wouldn't be able to handle it because I couldn't even stand to see people vomit. It has been pointed out to me that changing colleges inconvenienced him as I WAS attending college in the same town he lived in and was available to babysit frequently...but once again I didn't care. Michael was 4 by this point and meant the world to me. Over the years it became noticeable to me that there were pictures in the house of my brothers everywhere....mine were few and far between. I noticed that when I would go somewhere with them, I was introduced as Jamie, not my daughter Jamie, just Jamie. It became well known in our family that Dad had decided he was too young to have a daughter my age (especially with a new younger wife and family). He WAS young, he was only 19 when I was born. My other family members have been all too clear on the fact that Dad was pulling away from me even more because he was embarassed by me, or something to that effect. I made MANY mistakes during my teens and early twenties. My mother is the best, she stood by me through it all, loved me through it all. Dad, well, he pulled disappearing acts. Disappeared from my life, withdrew all emotional support when I needed it the most. This happened so many times I've lost count. All I know is growing up, I was constantly seeking his support. It was impossible to find. I thank God every day that my mom and the best step-father in the world were there for me, to raise me and help keep me on track.

Fast forward a few more years. I had moved half way across the country to Connecticut. Dad hadn't spoken to me since I did this. Mom and Kelly were uber supportive. (Thanks guys, I love you!). After a year, I broke down and sent him a Christmas card. He sent me one in return telling me he loved me and that he was there for me when I was ready. What that meant I wasn't (still not) sure. I flew home for my first visit in March of 1999. My grandparents held a little family gathering for that side of the family. Dad, step-mom and Michael came. Hugs, kisses, tears I thought it would be great. Step-mom and Michael wanted to hear all about my new life. Dad pretty much steared clear of me. Hurt? Of course, but unfortunately I had grown used to it. Once they left, the other family members apologized (once again) for his behavior. I brushed the tears away and let it go. I spent the remainder of the trip hanging out with my mom and Kelly and loving every minute of it.

Over the next year, I sent cards periodically to Dad. Heard nothing in return, didn't expect it though. In May of 2000, Henry and I found out we were pregnant. We had been living together over a year. Anxiously told Mom, she was excited and happy for us. Dreaded telling Dad as I knew it wouldn't be a pleasant experience. Put it off for several more months, I am sure he knew from other family members by this point. Henry and I were trying to decide whether to go ahead and get married before the baby or wait until after (it wasn't an issue of IF, but when by that point). I finally worked up enough nerve to call Dad and tell him. My announcement was greeted with such a long silence that I started crying (yeah, hormones had already started wreaking havoc on me!). He started to ask when the wedding was, before I could explain that we were trying to figure it out, he started lecturing me on how "don't you think you've put the cart before the horse on this one....kids aren't supposed to come first." I lost my temper, and said something like yeah, kinda like you and mom did huh? Oops. More silence and then he said I've gotta go is there anything else. Didn't hear from him again. Sent father's day card, Christmas card, birthday card. No response as had become the norm. We went in to have Matthew on January 8, 2001. It was the happiest day of my life. I called my family except for Dad. I didn't have any reason to believe he would care that he had become a grandpa. I knew my grandparents would tell him. On the day we came home from the hospital, when we arrived home there was a voicemail from Dad that he had heard the news, congratulations, and he WOULD CALL BACK LATER. Well, it is 5.5 years later, and I still haven't received that call. Already emotional from having a baby, I broke down and cried for hours. Poor Henry, he did his best to keep me calm and support me, but there was nothing he could do. I resigned myself to the fact that my father wanted nothing to do with his daughter or his Grandson (or son-in-law for that matter).

Over the next couple of months, I heard nothing from Dad. No calls, no cards, no email. I slowly began to build a wall (or so I fooled myself) to block out the pain. I thought I had become stronger. We went home for a vist (Henry, myself and Matthew) when he was 6 months old. My grandparents once again held a small family get together, but Dad wanted nothing to do with it. I could handle it (I told myself I could anyway) that he didn't want to see me. Fine. But to refuse to see your new innocent grandson (and meet your son-in-law) was unbelievable. My family on his side fell all over themselves apologizing for his behavior. I told them to forget it, by this point in my life I had come to expect it.

We returned home and heard nothing from him as usual. My uncle died and my brother called to tell me...I called Dad to tell him how sorry I was and get details for the wake. I asked him to call me back when the details were set so I could send a plant or something as I couldn't make it home on such short notice. He never bothered to call me back. I had to call the local flower shop in my Aunt/Uncle's town to send the plant and pray they knew when/where to send it (luckily in small town KS they of course knew). My Grandmother died 2 years ago....Dad coudln't talk to me then either. I sent him a card a few months later telling him that the estrangement between him and his mother was something that I knew had to be bothering him now that she was gone, and that I prayed we could work out our estrangement before it was too late. Never heard from him.

Went home in April 2005 for my brother's wedding. Extremely nervous to do so as I knew dad would be there. Dad didn't show for the rehearsal dinner which I know hurt my brother deeply. On the day of the wedding, I was helping get things together. Matthew was in his tux (ring bearer) and ready for pictures. I was finishing something up in the parsonage while my family in the church kept an eye on Matthew. I received word that Dad had arrived. I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out. I entered the church, but didn't have the courage to speak to him at first. So, I walked down the aisle (like I didn't see him or my step-mom or youngest brother) to go check on Matthew and make sure he was still clean and ready for the wedding. I worked up my nerve while taking a few pics of Matthew and the flower girl playing. I walked back to where they were sitting. My step-mom gave me a big hug and said with tears in her eyes how much she had missed me. My brother gave me the biggest, tightest hug too. Dad said "That's some boy you've got there" and gave me a big hug. I tried to keep it together as we spoke for a couple minutes, but luckily I was needed in the back of the church and was able to excuse myself. Come to find out I wasn't needed, but my mom had "summoned" me to make sure I was ok. The tears were flowing at that point ( as they are as I type this). Once again Dad was just going to act like nothing had happened, like we had no problems, like everything was peachy keen. Fine, I would play the game. My aunts/uncles/cousins on his side were all very attentive to me and kept asking if I was ok, and apologizing for him as usual. At the reception, I told Dad that I would love to drive to his town during the next week and maybe spend an evening with him and the family. I was told they would be too busy...ouch. I tried to have a couple of conversations with Dad and step-mom but Dad just sort of withdrew himself from the talk. He would act disinterested (I suppose he probably was), and I finally just gave up. I did get to have some great conversations with my brother Michael, who I miss and love like crazy. Michael stayed at the reception much later than my Dad and step-mom. It broke my heart that they(Dad and step-mom) left the reception without saying good bye to me. But I think what hurt the most is that they made no effort what so ever to get to know Matthew. I have a GREAT child, one any grandparent would be proud of, but they didn't want anything to do with him. Family has pointed out that Dad thinks he is too young to be a grandfather, this would make sense as to why he didn't even spent two seconds with Matthew. Dad's siblings were falling all over themselves trying to make up for what he did. That is when I decided that I had to close off my heart to him. I couldn't continue to let his behavior rip my heart in half everytime he got close (or rather didn't get close) to me. I had to just let it go. Easier said than done. But, I am trying. I have just decided that I have a mother and step-father (who is a GREAT dad!) who love me and Matthew. Matthew is loved by them both...and loves his Grandpa and Grandma to death. So, as far as I am concerned, Matthew has grandparents...if my dad doesn't want to be his grandfather, it is HIS LOSS!

It is now a little over a year since that wedding. I have emailed my step-mother a few times, just got a casual email or two back. No big deal. Never have heard from my dad. Does it still hurt? Hell yes. Am I ever going to get over it? Probably not. Am I ever going to give up? I think I have, but there will always be a corner of my heart that holds out hope that he will come to regret not being a part of our lives and try to make ammends. I just pray it isn't too late.

Well, I hope that helps me sleep, getting that off my chest. There is so much more to the story, but that is the jist of it. Sucks huh. if you read this far, thanks for hanging with me. Off to sleep (hopefully) as it is 4:45am. Yikes. Henry starts his new job today...I pray it goes well and that he enjoys it. As for me...I am enjoying being a stay at home mom so far!