Thursday, August 8, 2013

Grandpa-less.

Okay, this is far from a baby related post, but, in a way it sort of relates. This is my story about my dad that I have been struggling to write about for a while, I write, go back and delete, then add, and finally I finished! If you don't want to read it it's okay. I will take no offense! I really believe that in a way this is one of the reasons why I wanted and needed to start a blog. Of course also to document my little family's journey, but this is also a way of venting? Maybe. I needed to get this out once and for all. I won't bore you with it again, I promise.

I've been debating on whether to write about this or not. It's been such a hard subject in our family that I thought about it a million times over, asked my sister if she thought it was a good idea, she didn't think so but said that ultimately it was my decision. It's a very sensitive subject for me and one that makes me tear up every time I think or talk about it.

Button doesn't have a grandfather. He probably never will. Jack's father passed away a couple of years ago before we even thought about getting married. My dad was around and I was hopeful. I knew he would be the greatest grandpa ever. I saw it with my niece and he was the most amazing father to me and my siblings. I couldn't have asked for a better example in our lives other than my mom. That is, until he left us.

One day he decided to go visit his family in Jordan. Half way around the world. We all thought, cool, he hasn't seen his family in a while. Our family. He left and we were happy for him. BUT, he couldn't give us a return date.

My dad owned a Middle Eastern restaurant on the West side part of our city. I worked there for four years until it was time for me to start looking for a job related to my degree to gain some experience while I still went to school. My dad wasn't too happy about it. He always saw his restaurant as a family business, and it was, but we all had to move on to bigger opportunities. After that, his interest in keeping his business going slowly started declining. He just wasn't the same anymore. We could all tell (we meaning my mom, sis, brother and I) and it was sad because it was such a good business. It could have easily thrived. He also really wanted to move on to bigger and better things and he was tired of running a business that no longer was successful because he just wasn't interested in making it that way anymore. I really believe this was the last trigger in him and validation that his life here with us was no longer what he wanted or needed. Before he left to Jordan, he sold what we had all worked so hard on for seven years. Built it from the ground up and just like that it was gone. He sold it for pennies. He just wanted nothing to do with it anymore, he wanted to leave.

And that he did. You know, thinking about it, now I realize that he gave us many signs that we completely missed. Or maybe we had our doubts but wanted to blind ourselves? Whatever it was, they were right there in front of us. He had been an avid smoker consuming about a pack and half a day. One day he quit. Cold turkey. We were so happy for him because after so many years of us practically begging him to quit he did. All that meant for us is that he was going to start a fresh new life with us, be healthier, hunt for another business opportunity, be happier doing something else. Then another day, he started running on our treadmill. Running. (Maybe that was a metaphor for wanting to be ready to run away from us? Ha.) He worked out everyday. Something he had never done before. That's when I started getting a weird and funny feeling about all of this, but I set it aside and was happy for him. He felt better, he looked better. Then off he went. It was January I remember perfectly. He said he was going to look for a business opportunity in Jordan and if he found one, him and my mom would eventually move over there. My mom was ok with it, she thought that if he left his country to be with her, after thirty years of marriage, she would do whatever she needed to do to be with him. One month went by, two months, three months and no dad. We spoke to him often on the phone and skyped with him. The skyping was usually done at the wee hours at night his time. He always looked so tired and sleepy we couldn't understand why we couldn't Skype at a different time. It was always at that time.

After about nine or ten months after being gone he came back in October. We were all so happy! We had our dad back and my mom had her partner back. We decided to rent a cabin about three hours away and we all went. We had such a good time. It was all back to normal, almost. There was something about him that was off and we couldn't quite pin-point it. He was constantly on the phone saying it was my uncle calling. We brushed it off but that weird and funny feeling came back. Then after only about three weeks of being back he left once again. His thing was always that he was almost at the end of a good deal in Jordan and great business ideas. We believed him. Or we wanted to.

I started hearing rumors about him through the Arab community (big in my town) and started questioning them. Why would they say those things about my dad? My dad was perfect! He would never do that to us! They were crazy and mean and bad people. I think we badly wanted it to be untrue. To not believe them.

Then my mom went over to our apartment one day because she said she needed to tell us something. I already knew. He got married. To another woman. In another country.

That was only the beginning. My mom confronted him and he denied everything entirely. He even said, how could we not believe him? He told my mom she could believe what she wanted but that she knew how the Arabs loved talking about others and that she should believe him.

That was the end. It's been almost three years and after that last time in October, we haven't seen him again. He tries to contact us by email, text, phone, and me personally, I still can't answer. I can't talk to him. I have no desire to. It went from him walking me down the aisle to get married, dancing the night away at my wedding, being the best father and role model I could have asked for, to me not wanting to ever see or talk to him again. It's very sad and hard to admit, but I lost respect for him. The morals he taught us and instilled in us were all about family, being honest, working hard for what you want, etc. Maybe I am being overly dramatic but I am so hurt by all of this. At twenty-nine years old you would think I would be over it but it's almost harder because I think of all the things my kids will be missing out on without him, what I am already missing out on. He wasn't there for the birth of my child, when we purchased our first home, I could go on and on.



Elliot won't be able to call anyone grandpa and I'm sure that a lot of you out there go through this, it might even be pretty common, but it doesn't make it any easier. He's emailed and left me voice mails telling me congratulations on my son and I cry. I cry when I listen to them and immediately get rid of them. I think about my son and how amazing he is and how much my dad is missing out on. I know Elliot will be fine, it's just the thought of it that kills me. I was fortunate enough to meet my Arab grandfather before he passed away and he was truly a great man. My grandfather on my mom's side is the most amazing example of a man I will ever know. He is the epitome of what a father and grandfather should be. I don't get to see him too often because he lives in Atlanta, but I love him so much. I guess that's also why it hurts me because I know that having grandparents is quintessential in life.

I also hurt for my mom, I'm afraid she is lonely, and I'm sure she is sometimes, but she is such a strong woman. Never depended on my dad for anything. She's the most honest, loving, hardworking woman and I strive everyday to be even a little bit like her.

In his eyes, my dad never did anything wrong. My dad will always be the one missing out on our lives, on everything. I don't nor will I ever hate him. I'm thankful for everything he taught me and all the memories we made. He was a great father. But the fact remains; he abandoned his family.

Okay whew! I apologize in advance for all the sappiness but I am just being honest on how I feel. Thank you for reading!

On a lighter note. I'll leave you with a pic of my button to lessen the load of this post. What a change of pace from my last post to this right?!

Happy almost Friday!





6 comments:

  1. I love how raw this post was! Kudos! That's the joy about blogging, it can be for whatever you want it to be :) Hope getting it all out helped! & yes, totally his loss!

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    1. Thank you! Yes I can honestly tell you I felt so much better after! :)

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  2. I agree with the comment above! I have a somewhat similar situation and I often struggle on whether or not I want to use my blog to vent. But last night I actually came to the realization that it is my space and I will write whatever I want to! Don't ever feel bad about expressing your pain. Granted, there may be someone out there whose situation is worse but your pain is your pain and it is real to you!

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    1. Exactly!! I had that realization as well. It is a struggle but it helps to let it all out :)

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  3. Man. I can't even begin to imagine how you felt/feel. It's hard to know why people do the things they do sometimes, and I'm sorry. But it's most definitely his loss! :)

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  4. I can't even imagine what this must feel like. I'm so glad you were able to post this- to vent so much to us! He is without a doubt missing out!

    I'll also end on a light note- little button with his baby feeties crossed!!! LOVE!

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Thank you for your sweet comments! :)

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