Dad: Part 1

I know some of the readers of this blog really well.
Others, I know fairly well.
Some, friends of friends.
Some of you, stumbled upon this blog by complete accident.

This post is to serve as a bit of "catch-up" for those of you who don't know my story. Especially the parts of my story that include my dad.

My dad.

I type that and I sigh. A big breathy sigh that hurts and feels good at the same time.

I am the youngest of three girls. I was named after the Boston song, Amanda.
My mom and dad got married when they were just 18 and 19 years old. At my age, my mom already had 3 kids. We lived in San Diego until I was in the 1st grade, moved to Lakeport, CA until I was finished with the 2nd grade, and then moved to Texas.

My mom and dad separated when I was in the 3rd grade but didn't divorce until I was in the 6th grade. The years in between proved to be a full blown roller coaster ride.

When my parents divorced, my mom, sister Patti, and I moved from Texas back to San Diego. My dad and I were never close, as there was already so much tension and hurt, pain, and anger in the house.

My dad and I only drifted further and further apart as the years went on.

My dad remarried shortly after he and my mom divorced; I found out about the new marriage by looking at the calendar and seeing "anniversary" written on it. My dad continually chose other people and things over his children, over me.

My dad rarely made an appearance at a show choir performance, he missed my 8th grade graduation speech, he didn't stay at my high school graduation long enough to take a picture, he never visited me at any of my 7 colleges, he bought me tires instead of coming to my college graduation. He said he would call and didn't. He sent IOU's in birthday and holiday cards. We grew further and further apart.

Most recently, I came to the realization, after A LOT of counseling, that my dad was somewhat poisonous in my life. When my dad did my a rare appearance, I struggled with fear, anxiety, and panic. My counselor, and a number of friends, helped me to sort through my feelings and emotions when it came to my dad. I came to the conclusion that it was up to me if I wanted him in my life. In making that decision, I had to decide whether or not I would let my dad hurt me any more.

Deciding whether or not you want your dad in your life is not an easy decision. It isn't like breaking up with a boyfriend, deciding that you no longer want to be friends with someone... it is a painful decision.

My dad called me about 2 months ago, telling me that he would be coming out to San Diego to visit his mom, my grandma, who just had open heart surgery. He said that he would like to see me and work on having a relationship. I said OK. I told him to call me when he got to town so we could discuss it. He never called.

He was supposed to leave town on Friday, November 20th.

Everything changed on Thursday, November 19th.