My Father

I was never very close to my father while I was growing up. He was an electronic genius. The garage was converted into his electronic wonderland workshop, and every night after dinner, he would disappear into his workshop. He built computers, televisions and all kinds of gizmos. He was also a Ham Radio operator and would talk for hours to people around the globe. Everybody in town knew our house, we had the 2 antennas that were 50 feet high. When I started high school, he turned his attention to satellite dishes. This is when the dishes ran anywhere from 4 1/2 feet up to 12 feet in diameter. He started selling and installing the dishes as a side business. I think he only sold maybe 5 dishes, but our yard always had at least 1 or 2 of them on display. I can safely say to a smaller extent, I get my geekiness from my dad.

My first memories of my dad deal with him working for the electric company. I remember for my 4th or 5th birthday, he had the bucket truck at the house and he took me and my sister up in the bucket. I don't know when, but at some point he was in a bad accident at work. We never really talked about what happened, but he was either crushed between a pole and a truck, he was badly burnt by an electric line or both. I just know that the rest of his life he had many nervous system problems because of that accident.

Another early memory I have of him was being woken up in the middle of the night by my mother. My dad had come home drunk again and they had been fighting. She got my sister and I into the car and took off. I remember her going to the lone pay telephone booth in town (remember the town only had 800 people). I know we ended up back home soon after that, but it seems like that might have happened a few times when I was younger. His alcohol problem only got worse though. I can remember 3 times that he was admitted to the local rehab center. When he would come home, he would remain sober for a short time but eventually he would start drinking again. Then after the third attempt, he was able to remain sober for quite a few years after that. I don't remember him drinking again until I was in high school. And even then, his drinking was very moderate, I never saw him get intoxicated again.

But his other major problem besides alcohol was depression. Depression runs in his family. His father and oldest sister both suffered. And after his accident at work, which damaged his nervous system, it became a serious problem for him later in life. He would see a shrink off and on every since I remember. He was always on some sort of medication for his problems. Towards the end of his life, he made the comment to me that he was running out of medications he could take. He had been on all of them and they no longer were working for him. Whenever one medication would stop working and he would being a new medication, it was a hell of a roller coaster ride. And that ride wouldn't end until they could figure out the correct dosage. I remember 3 times that he was admitted to the hospital for overdoses of his medication. Each time, he would be in the hospital for at least 30 days. I don't believe the overdoses were accidental.

Surprisingly, during my mom's sickness and after her death, he remained strong. She had been sick for almost 4 years, so her death wasn't a shock. But it was an emotional period that completely wiped all of our energy away. For the first time in my life, my dad stepped up and was there for my sister and me. I am not saying he hadn't been supportive before, but my mom was always the one that was there for us. With her gone, he stepped in and took over. Granted I was 22 when she died, but it was reassuring to see him in this new role.

He remarried within a year after my mom dying. His new wife had actually worked in the same office as my mom. They got along great, and they both were a perfect fit for each other. Their marriage only lasted about 5 years. Towards the end of their marriage, there were some accusations made by other members of the family that caused the demise of the marriage. It was a very long and drawn out process that put did a lot of damage to the family. Most likely, the cause of these accusations were because somebody was jealous that they weren't getting the attention they needed anymore. This did a lot of damage to the relationship that my father, my sister and I had with each other.

For Christmas 1998, my dad invited me to stop by his house for a visit. Even though he only lived 30 miles away, I hadn't seen him in a few months and I knew he was pretty lonely. So Mark (my ex) and I drove down there for a short visit. I remembered that he had bought me an electric wok one year. He had told me how much he loved to cook in it. I knew that his ex-wife got most of the stuff in the house, so I was pretty sure he didn't have one. I also bought him the usual big jar of cashews. He was very gracious for the gifts. Even though later on he told me that he couldn't use them because he was in the process of getting his teeth pulled so he could get dentures. I felt so bad for not knowing that. I would have gotten better gifts had I known. That was the last time I saw my dad.

He called me a few times over the next few months. Just to chat, there was never anything important to discuss. He called me in March, 1999. He was wanting to know if he could stop by and see me sometime. I told him that was fine, even though I was very busy with work. He told me that he would call me soon and we could plan on a visit. He never called back.

April 1st, 1999. I found out the night before that somebody had stolen my debit card number. I spent most of the day at the bank and on the phone trying to get it straightened out. By 4 pm, I was on my way to work after getting that whole mess taken care of. My sister pulled up behind me as I got to work. She was crying. My father had killed himself. After I don't know how many attempts, he finally succeeded in taking his life. My uncle is the one who had found him. I will always be glad that I am not the one who found that.

The funeral was small. We buried him next to my mother. I don't remember a lot of that day. My friends Aaron and John went with me. Mark (my ex) also went. It seems like the day might have been rainy or misty at least. I hadn't been back to my hometown much in the past few years. So we hired the minister from our old church (even though my father wasn't a member). The minister was new there and didn't know us at all. He was very nice about it and gave a great speech. The most I remember is driving to Mattoon to eat at Cracker Barrel after the service.

Next year will be the 10th anniversary of his death. I have visited the graves only 2 or 3 times since his funeral. My grandparents (my mom's parents) go all the time, that is important to them. To me, I know their bodies are buried there, but that isn't where they are. They are in my mind and in my heart. I don't need to go look at a piece of granite with their names.

Today would have been my dad's 63rd birthday. I haven't talked to anybody on my dad's side since my grandfather passed away (a few years after my dad did). My dad's family was never very close. I just hope my dad found the peace he deserves.