MoralsI was 16 in high school living at home with my parents. My mother was ill. We didn't know with what yet but knew something was very wrong. My mother was my everything. She let me see the kind side of life. My father adored her. True love thing. I grew seeing my fathers dedication to love. He left her notes. He did for me too. But I would find the ones for my mom sometimes and my fathers love was so beautiful. Don't get me wrong he had his faults but his self was true. Irish boy growing up in the 30's dirt poor. He told me stories of him being beaten on the way home from school just because he was a Mick. My father was a survivor he supported his family from the age of 12 due to his fathers untimely death. He was the middle child of 5 two older sisters and two younger. What a man. I was always so proud to be his daughter. He was rough on me sometimes. Got the belt .....that was totally acceptable when I was younger.
I remember when I was about 6 going to see my grandma with my mom. It was my dad's mom but my father was in the Air force and he was stationed away alot at the time. So I am gettin on the Elevator with my grandma and mom. Someone trys to come onto the elevator and my Grandma takes her cane and pushes the person off and says " dirty paki" and the elevator door closes.
I looked at my mom with horror. She looks at me and say's she's an angry old woman.
I left it at that but I remembering feeling .....i don't like this woman.......She's my grandma but I don't like her. i don't want to be her friend.
My grandma died not too long after that. So she left a bitter impression on me. I guess that is why we were visitng. To show me how vile some people can be.
So back to high school. My mother is sick my father paniced about my mom. We are reading To Kill a Mockingbird for English class. I powered through the book and reread it.
WOW! This is the first introduction for me into deep core hatred ......or so I thought.
The novel moved me I found a sense of right and wrong. I set my side and was determined to never see the world in black and white. It was so splendid and colourful. I lived in a very white city of 180k people and my high school had 2 black family and 2 mixed raced that were adopted. Nadine. She was one of my best friends growing up I met her in grade 7 her mom was a while woman who adopted Nadine and her brother when she was 3. We never discussed race......just was a non issue. Our neighbours across the street were from Jamacia. My father loved this family . Anthea was the daughters name she was my friend also but she was a few years older than me. I hung out at her house ......our friendship faded but not because of anything other than age. My father loved the family told me they were great people and Anthea was a wonderful example for me. Said the family worked hard and were great people.
Yea my dad wasn't racist. Grandma was I know this......my dad seeS!
My mother passed away that year. She fought a short yet very hard battle with Cancer. Pancreatic Cancer not a wonderful experince. Her death changed me forever. My life was so differnt than my siblings which I didnt mention. ......because I was the youngest of 6 kids from my mom. One passed away before I was born at birth but he was always considered my brother. John was his name. Then I had 4 living ones. 16 years older 14, 12, and 10. So I was a total accident. My siblings had moved on and it was just me at home. I was an only child in a large family. Basically how I have always looked at my life.
My life for the next few years was full of self destruction. I went into depression I was never able to deal with my mothers death. My Dad was in so much pain. He loved my Mother so much .....His mourning was such a difficult thing to watch. I ran from my pain but everytime I went home it was there. With a candle glowing image and my Father with a Bottle and tears streaming down his face.
Oh so much pain.........how do we help each other ....Booze was an escape. Didn't work. So life moves on. My father slowly starts to live again. He sells our family home and basically say. Always here if you need it but time to fly. I was a constant let down. My father always thought I was going to be a lawyer. I did too. I was the smart one in the family so my sister need to inform me. Funny how I was the one who ended up in a abusive relationship......Not soo smart huh sis.
I was working and doing my thing. I had dated a few guys. I brought Terrance home one time my father wasn't expecting me to bring a Black man home. He never really said anything to me about it. I could tell he was uncomfortable but I thought it was cause Terrance was a Football pla
I moved to Toronto about 30 minutes away. It was my parents hometown and the source of all the wonderful stories I heard as a child. I was young and enjoying life working in downtown Toronto living and seeing such a beautiful mulit cultural life. I had met my bf before I moved to T.O. but we were not serious just dating. I fell deeply inlove. The kind of love my father showed me. The kind of commitment I had learned was the normal.
We decided to move in to an aparment together. I was going to tell my father. This was as good as marriage to my dad. You didn't live with someone you married them. I was fine. He was from a divorced family and it had deeply effected him and we didn't need marriage so I was convinced.
So tell my dad.........I am not thinking to much of it.
I tell my father I am moving in with him. We are moving in a couple of months and I want you to meet him. I tell him where we are living and a bit about him. His mother is from Jamacia. His father is from Barbados. He loved our neighbours before this has got to give me some leway I think.
So my father starts on.....Are you sure. Is this the best thing for you. I don't want you to have society look down on you. I am thinking about the kids. What kind of life will they have.
OMG my dad is a racist *****. He is hiding his feeling with excuses and cheap words.
I sat in silence listening to his word....his excuses....his ......well I was disgusted.
I blurt out...........to my hero whom has just been shattered. Them man I looked up to ........The man who ...well all I had left.
You haven't even met him. You are judging ba
I am just thinking of your kids he rambles
Bullshit Dad.....you are thinking about yourself. Your fears your issues not mine. If you can't except me with him I don't need to talk to you. Until you see how wrong you are. I am done.
I was devastated. My own father being a racist ***** ........He didnt' teach me that stuff. WTF.
My sister called telling me to come home for easter thanksgiving and all that. Saying they were not racist. Blah blah blah all excuses.
2 years passed. It was approaching Christmas. Was hard as hell for me this was going to be my 3rd Christmas without my family.
He called. I am sending you a Go ticket for you and your bf. I will pick you up an hour before the res to them show up. I want to get to know this man you love.
I love you Dad. You are my hero.
I was back with my family and my bf was excepted. My family actully bent over backward for us. Showed huge support.
I had my first child my father was the most amazing Grandfather he loved loved loved babies.
He was holding my daughter .........looked at me
I am sorry
I am sorry I didn't realize the saying Indian giver was hurting someone. I thought it was just a saying. I didn't see how my actions so greatly affected people.
I am sorry ......I am sorry for hurting you.
Wow. He was 67 years old. He had morals ........I just taught hime the lesson he had always taught me.
My father fought his own battle with cancer .....I have been an orphan since 29. I raise my children with them in my heart. They don't know my parents but they know me......I am them.
I love you Dad. I know you are with Mom now. I know you are proud.