I Ran out of Time

As a teenager I lost my dad a month before my sixteenth birthday and throughout all of the shock and abuse I was still a lost, frightened child trying to cope with the unrealistic burden of being told to “Act like a man”.

My dad was a truck driver and a no nonsense kind of man, who believed that you should tow the mark and walk the line. { I rarely heard him tell jokes growing up}

He had ran over a child on a tricycle a few years earlier and because of this quit driving truck to become a janitor at New Haven High school where he developed a strong dislike for “teenage hippies” and guess what… I was a teenager. Ironically he was hit by a delivery driver in the same way and was crippled for the last year or so of his life.

During the service and funeral I walked around in a daze in the middle of a January storm that was not expected. It was very cold in Northern Indiana and a freak snowstorm hit on January 9th that prevented us from going to the gravesite to place him in the ground, instead holding a service at the mausoleum in the front of the cemetery.

I am extremely thankful for my brother-in-law Mike for being there for me in these turbulent and trying times. He stood behind me and caught me as when they started playing the taps I fell out. Afterwards Mike took me to stay with him for a couple of days and tried to help me cope. My way of coping was to withdraw from family.

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Connection Busy

I was tuned out for years and the impact of his death weighed heavy on my heart. I refused to open up and discuss my feelings with anybody professionally or privately. I turned to alcohol and drugs for a quick escape route from my troubles, {wait a second} did I mention I was covered in psoriasis? This was not common back in 1974 like it is now-a-days. {that didn’t help my confidence levels any!}

My grades and attendance at high school dropped in the toilet and soon I was lost in a haze of depression brought forth from closing myself off and morning booze before class. I only attended class a handful of days in my junior year and quit before my senior year had a chance.

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Number Disconnected

Feelings were a strange brew of emotions and acceptance that I was not ready or not able to accept and understand, I’m not sure which. I became a loner and friendship was hard to obtain from me as I didn’t want to let anybody in or to let them see I was vulnerable.

This attitude remained active until I was in my early twenties and in a way is still here today. I eventually found a niche’ to live in and became rowdy, irresponsible and pretty much a stain on society.

I still fight with emotions regarding death and to this day people don’t understand my showing no sympathy for the loss of loved ones. What they fail to realize is that I do hurt inside but a long ago trauma had shut down the response trigger. I suffer in a different way than they do.

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Old Fashioned Party Line

Back in my youth when you picked up the receiver on a telephone it would be no surprise to find your neighbor’s talking or listening on a party line. That meant private conversations were nil.

Today however, I find that a party line comes in useful as all but one sister has passed in my family and I have finally came to terms with talking to the dead. I have asked for forgiveness from my dad and have forgiven him in my heart.

So here’s to talking to dad once again and trying to understand any answers or guidance he provides in this uncertain world.

until next time –

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