Fathers Day…

I’m in Denver on Flobots business. Accidently spent Father’s Day here… long story! – It’s the day after Father’s day and I’m sitting in a cafe called Snooze enjoying coffee and breakfast before getting down to business at the non-profit office…

Anyways, yesterday I called my Dad for Fathers Day. No answer. He called me back later in the day drunk and crying and upset and I couldn’t really understand what was up. He’d try to tell me and then break down in drunken tears. Finally he told me that an old acquintance of his confronted him at a public bar in front of all his friends, saying his son, ME, wanted nothing to do with him and I wrote him off. Say Wha!??? — I couldnt make heads or tails of this story. Then my Dad conveyed to me that this fellow, let’s call him TONY, had told my Dad that I had published this all over the internet and published things that made them both look like asses…. SAY WHAT!?? — And that my half sister had conveyed this to Tony, who also happens to be her father…. LONG STORY… don’t ask.

Then it hit me…. this guy must have been talking about ORIGIN. The two chapters I wrote called DAD and MOM. Now, the DAD story, is a romanticized adventure of my Dad’s biker days and actually makes him into a sort of urban legend hero! If my Dad only knew how many people think he’s AWESOME, he’d of never thought I’d do anything like write him off or embarrass him. If anything, I did show the regret he feels and conveys for his first marriage and two daughters he didn’t get to know, and his deep religious views he holds inside.

Quite simply, EVERYTHING that is good in me, was instilled by my Dad. Period. Now, I don’t hide the fact with anyone, or anyone who has seen my Dad lately that he has sort of fallen off the rails, or fell off the wagon. He thinks he’s a failure in a lot of things, but really everything he sees good in how I’ve grown, and become a good father, it’s all because of him. Every single aspect of having my head on straight… him. As a father myself, that thought about my sons… that if whatever I instill in them will make them grow to be good fathers and husbands and human beings. Maybe they will do grand things… if I see that happen, no matter where I am in my life in my 60s or 70s, I know that my life was worth it, just in passing that torch.

My mother is a different story. She took her own life in 1999, died by the bottle. Downed Anti-Freeze I was told by one honest person, my sister’s husband. I didn’t know my mother that well, I’ve lived with my Dad since I was 5… but I was saddened and shocked to learn of her demise. I wondered… do I have that in me? Depression…. could I one day die by the bottlle… be so depressed I would take my own life? — Never. That chapter of ORIGIN had to be told, and I think it was romanticized as well…  only bits and pieces of stories I had heard, and I used my imagination to make it entertaining to readers too. But I that is how I dealt with my pain inside. That was my therapy. At first i was a bit embarrassed by that story… but I grew to know it was important to tell. It is a tragic tale people can learn from. I’ve learned from.

Now… on my Mothers side of the family, I have sisters and brother who don’t talk. I’ve never understood it. I’m not suprised to learn that my sister has come across that story and was greatly offended by it. Her father is in it, and it’s insinuated, as it was fact, that my mother fooled around with her father while she was a bartender in town before and during my Father’s marriage to my mother. An off again on again fling. The way I look at it now, that side of the family is just embarrassed and wants to sugar coat my mom’s death… probably because they are ashamed and embarassed by it. They tried to cover it up and not tell me the truth about it, but I ordered the death certificate that confirmed how my mother passed. Never once did that side of the family reach out to me for anything, to give me childhood photos or memories… nothing. Not that I really wanted anything at all. I have one fond memory of my mother… her playing the guitar. She seemed happy then, singing… talent shining through. She is tragic figure in my history. my origin story.

Back to my Dad…. his story has turned into a bummer as well. A man filled with regrets. But I want to reach out to him to tell him that he’s done good. I love him and I won’t judge him. And I’d surely never write him off. He is an unknowing hero in my origin story. I’d like to see him ride off into the sunset as a happy old man. He is deserving of a good end.

Everything that’s good in me, came from my father. Thanks Dad.

To my other family members who I don’t communicate with who may be offended by the origin comics… I am truly sorry. Please don’t take it personally. It is a dramatized fantasy/therapy for me. The general public does not care…. we are ALL just stories… we choose how they are written and how they will ultimately end. I hold no ill will toward any of my family on that side. It makes me sad I have sons who will likely never know their aunts or uncles… but at least they will know why some day. It’s more than I ever had given to me.

Peace from the streets of Denver!