Perfectly Planned

I just look at them and think, You have no idea…

For anyone who has speculated that the life of an “only child” is so spectacular and “perfect” you don’t have a clue. To directly put it, you don’t know anything about it. As a child everything was pre-made, done for me, any problem that arisen it was fixed. When you see life as an organized, readily made organic routine you don’t look to the future thinking everything will change. I hoped for change because unlike the presumed notion that all sibling-less kids are happy with everything they could possibly ask for it wasn’t enough. What child wouldn’t want to live in a home where they have both of their parents, a two-story home, three meals a day, a bed to sleep in, decent clothes to wear, (toys if younger) and nothing else to worry about??? Who wouldn’t want to be secure? It is in our nature to maintain and provide what is necessary to be comfortable and safe. It is a fundamental that we must have to function properly. What I’m frankly saying is we all need these things… It is what we add on in addition to it that becomes the misunderstanding, especially for single-children homes.

You want to call me a spoiled brat, go ahead but I will correct you and say it is wrongfully misused and insulting. Would you mind me calling you a self-righteous judgmental asshole? I’m sure you wouldn’t. Summing up an individual into a category and labeling them is exactly what is wrong in our society right now. First of all I don’t know who came up with such a title to describe single children with both parents. It implies that generally we’re all ungrateful kids who get whatever we want. Has anyone stopped to think that perhaps what is given is what the parents choose for the child to have? I guess it has never been viewed that way. It’s not necessarily whatever the child wants, but I will agree that we are much readily able to have certain things if we ask (and do all the right things parents want). I’m referring to things. I’ve escaped some situations with the protection at hand much more easily than otherwise expected. I value those unexpected holidays like Valentine’s Day or Easter when my mother would buy little gifts and create a cute basket. I’m sure many of us can possibly relate to that.  If it was my choice I would trade in all that I have for the bond and closeness that is non-existent from those that matter most. Over the years it has gotten worse and now it’s only a memory and ideal of what I want family to be.

Whether we feel we’re justified in it or not doesn’t change the fact we don’t allow ourselves to open up to learn about who someone is. There are times I’ve been proven wrong but it doesn’t change me from getting to know someone else. I am this way because I have been categorized and labeled all my youth: whether it had anything to do with my upbringing, my personality, my ability to learn, or anything else—I  can’t stand it because I know what resides in me is a character, a somebody, a whole being, that is not given a chance to be seen. We listen to what each other say about someone and we immediately form an opinion. All possibilities for seeing the true essence of him/her  is robbed because of what someone else has put in our heads. The sad part is we allow it to cloud our judgment. Every once in a while I’ll catch someone brave enough to say, “Think for yourself” and I love it because that’s what I always try to do no matter what. One of my biggest pet peeves is someone telling me what my thoughts are or telling me the decisions I’m about to make as If they’re controlling my body like a remote controlled robot. You want to know what a hell-raising bitch looks like take a trip inside my mind because it’s happening at those very moments. I’m an easy-going person, at least I’ve always believed myself to be, and I believe in you and anyone else having your own freedom. I live under this notion that if I don’t run your life then you can’t run mine. So when I come across anyone who thinks they can live my life better than me I have a problem with that…

Do you want to know the similarities between a child who has it "all" and a child who has nothing? Do you really? I know there are people reading this thinking, Give me a break! We already know the “vast” differences. But just give me a chance to explain and maybe this will shed some light and help you to view people’s circumstances a bit differently. A child who has it all may have the perfect picture life but feel completely alone. Things only tide us over, keep us occupied for a moment of pleasure, but they don’t fill the void of what you really need. What only children may miss is for others to see them for who they really are. When a child is alone with no parents, no family, no home, nada they have to rely on basic instincts to survive.  It’s about finding love and on this journey it can lead to the wrong places, bad places, bad people. Things overshadow what is really there and important. When it becomes the basis of any relationship there’s a need to go out to find what fills the emotional void. Besides an orphan or foster child having no one an only child experiences loneliness through the distance and lack of understanding from their parents when their emotional needs are not met and having no siblings to share and confide in. Having an extra body that is the bridge between parents is missing therefore the child must learn to cope and figure things out. This is not to blame because there are cases like mine whereas it would’ve been life threatening for more children to be brought into the world. This happens, this is life.

What varies according to every only child’s life is the closeness with extended family. I was unfortunate especially in my late teens, early adult years… With my mother and father’s presence in my life it was familiar and safe. I was upset by the detachment within my extended paternal and maternal family but it didn’t hurt as much as it does now since my father is no longer living. The void of him has made a difference and impact in my life especially being at home with my mother. Her work life has not changed and therefore she is just as consumed in it as she was when he was alive. Because I’m left with the knowing that he is not around and my extended family has not reached out to be comforting, supportive, and present it has affected me more than ever. My father was present at the birth of his daughter’s second son by his first marriage. He will never see the potential birth of children I bring into this world or walk me down the aisle if I ever get married. He will never know my children or meet the man I want to marry. Even though I’m almost 30 I still feel there’s something I’m missing and was left out of knowing. There is no manly-guide in my life anymore. There is nothing for me to base anything from and now I must rely on my instincts and continue asking God for guidance. Life will take a swing at you and remind you that not all good and secure things will last. This was my wake-up. I believe that the Lord is creating curbs in the road of life to change the course of our lives for the better. We all have a timeline and my father’s ended at the time it did. Mine is still going therefore the path that was once made has reverted in a different direction for something else to take place.  

I want to make this one point very clear. It doesn’t matter what you have or how you have it if you don’t have the foundation of strong family ties you have absolutely nothing. There is a void, emptiness, and hole that cannot be filled with monetary and material things. Unless you have a strong bond with friends that are a constant in your life then you’re not going to find it otherwise. When you don’t have the security of extended family and lose a parent you will definitely feel the sting of loneliness. It doesn’t matter how much your family pisses you off you must think about is it worth distancing and separating yourself. I know that what lies within my family’s history is much deeper than what saying “Sorry” can fix. The unexplainable can create a much bigger gap than what can be explained. My days are spent uncertain of tomorrow or where my future leads but I keep hope in knowing that in spirit the Lord guides me through all my challenges teaching and helping me to grow inside and out. As an only child I’ve learned to rely on a higher being when I was misunderstood, taken for granted, ignored, and mistreated. In the end it’s all we ever have, so I hope I’ve shed some light on what it means to walk a path “perfectly” alone and you can find an understanding that is most of the time misunderstood.

The Green Still Lives & Grows

I start off my story-telling series with this visual of a basket of thriving green. I'm not much of a planter or someone with a green thumb. From a young age I can recall nearly drowning a soil plot with a single seed of a sprouting bud. It was a toy from McDonalds possibly or a small gift back when kids actually had toys that gave them something to do and actually "learn". We are the last of what can be considered "innocent" because I don't know where we're going in today's society with "raising children".

But anyhow, all spring and summer hardly any growth was happening and being that I don't tend to plants as regularly I wasn't watering it like I should. Astoundingly it really started to show new growth by the end of the hot days of summer somewhere around the last couple of weeks of September. Surprisingly I hadn't noticed the progress until then and was exited by it and unsure of what will happen with the cold days upon us. If he/she decides to weather the storm will be a miracle for me. It will be a strong green to hang on through the bitter cold of Georgia's winter. If we're lucky it won't be dreadfully cold to the point it just weathers up and dies. Maybe this time I'll consider another option of  keeping it thriving with a  heater, something warm. 

You will be surprised to know this basket of soil was at one point a beautiful bouquet of white lilies, tall and kind. It was a gift out of condolence during our time of mourning in April 2007. My mother and I lost my father at 58 during one of his normal, routine days of work on a Monday. It was a gloomy, overcast day, looked like it would rain and I can't remember if it ever did. He came into my room before he went to work to tell me he was leaving. Usually I would peep out the front door hole and watch him drive down the street, turning right out of the driveway in his 1998 sporty black Honda Civic, until I couldn't see the car anymore because it turned the corner at the end of the road we lived on; but that day I stayed in bed. I didn't get up and went back to sleep. My father and I were not super close like many father daughter relationships, we argued, there was tension, it was bothersome. He got on my last nerve and we just butted heads for the realness of it all. I've always understood that when two people just can't deal with each other it is because they are so much alike its like two repelling forces. We just clashed. So the last memory I have of my father was during the start of the roughest years that lied ahead for me in my middle 20's - we were at that place of rubbing each other the wrong way and it was apparent every day including that particular day. So I stayed in bed. 

It wasn't even noon, from what I account because details were a blur from my recollection after that, and I was sitting at my new DELL 1525 Laptop with custom design magenta lid cover getting ready to figure out how to set-it up when I realized he had taken the instruction manual in his bag to work. My father was always trying to do more, frankly in my opinion because it became routine for my mom to tell him to do "Honey-Do's" or help with "something" or another. I remember the night before he was up late, as was customary of his nighttime boutness, and had my computer opened and looking it over. He wasn't like a Geek Squad techy, but he knew enough to pass relying on his techy co-workers/ work colleagues especially one he was particularly close to Lee, to aid in figuring things out. That's what I remember...the light on in the room with the tv on, sitting at the table with my laptop open figuring something out. We weren't close so at that time it annoyed me he was all engaged in my computer and I hadn't had the chance to do anything with it. That's just how it was, the life it was. 

The phone rang and I went over to the caller I.D. to see who it was and it was his work number. I answered it and this woman asked if it was me. The weirdest thing happened, I had a feeling - I "knew" something was wrong and feeling that sudden uncertain knowing fear I hung up. For some reason I had gone upstairs, we live in a two-story house, and went into that same room he was in the night before and answered the phone when it rang again.  It was the woman that worked with dad. She sounded upset and I just knew. This is where it gets very fuzzy for me...

I can't remember word for word what she said because my memory doesn't pick that up now, but in paraphrasing she told me, something happened to him... I know she was hysterical and I couldn't continue listening, not even a second longer to hear everything she had to say - just hung up in the middle of her talking. She asked if it was me and that my mother was at the hospital...two people were coming to get me to take me to the hospital to be with her. I'm not sure at this time if my mother had tried to reach me to tell me what was going on but I'm sure she did through tears and extreme emotion. Too much was going on. I got dressed and not that long came a knock at the door. It was a medium-height and frame white man with curly brown hair dad worked with and a woman who also worked with him sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep. I just get in and all this random small talk between long intervals starts happening in unsettling quietness. No one told me what the case was, what really happened.
I was left in the dark with bits of information without really being told anything - riding in the car downtown. I caught the man glancing back and forth at me through the rear view as if he was trying to read me. It annoyed me. My emotions were probably unreadable, it was a solemn moment in time. I looked out the window not sure what to think or what I would find when we got to the hospital.

They dropped me off at the entrance and I was met outside by another woman, my father's boss I think, unsure. She led me into the sanctuary to my mother very upset with a tear stained face being consoled by who was probably my dad's boss. It was so strange I just went along with the motions still unknowing of what was going on. My mother was relieved to see me and found some composure with me being there. I think she asked me if I was told what happened and I told her no, or it was about dad. It still didn't hit me when the chaplain came into the room. He said a prayer and we all bowed our heads... I guess in my mind I thought my father was not well or fighting something and we were praying for his recovery. Mom and I went back to the room where he was in a hospital gown lying on the bed with the sheets pulled up with the monitor going and tubes coming out of his nose. Mom stood there rubbing his gray hair (my father had premature gray hair), emotional. I just saw him lying there unsure of everything. I didn't want to touch him knowing what I was possibly looking at and didn't want to feel the cold. There was dried blood under his nostrils and it made me wonder. That's all I could think about, what happened? Why is there dried blood under his nose? Those questions were not answered with certainty since no one seemed to know what actually happened. My father kept to himself and my mother usually referred to him as a "loner", the story on this will be in another entry. He didn't sleep well at night, having nightmares, and staying up late most of the time falling asleep in the same room I've mentioned at the beginning. He worked in an environmental firm as the scheduling manager and on occasion would fall asleep at his computer in his office space. With it being an open space with windows it was easy for anyone to walk by and notice everything.
This Monday he was found lying on the floor. Even though he was given CPR to resuscitate him it didn't work... no one knows how long he was unconscious. I keep thinking 15 minutes, my memory keeps showing this number, but unsure. We, my mother and I believe that he hit his head on the table and it knocked him out, but I feel that is only part of the conclusion. Something else happened but the autopsy results showed nothing was wrong. He died of natural causes.   

My father had just got a new pace maker since the last one was not at its best anymore. A smoker for as long as I can remember growing up. I remember him having the procedure done the actual day of Halloween 2006. There were no problems with his heart to cause what happened. So we were left with knowing that there was no cause of his passing except it was his time to go. And it's so weird reflecting on this because I remember when I was still taking classes, at Bauder college downtown in Atlanta, and a Sunday before returning back to the apartment him asking me, "If anything was to happen to him would me and my mother be okay". He was a worrier, and I told him confidently everything would be fine and I meant that. I felt that with my mother's strong, take-charge, handling everything ways with my independent and go-getter ways there was nothing that could break us. I was also saying it "matter-of-factly" with no inkling that something was awry or the future would hold this change in life's dynamic. The sad part is in my mind I could actually believe we would be okay without him, assured we would be fine. It's something you don't want or need to experience to find out. There is no one in your life that you can do without or be okay without. My father and I did not have the best or closest relationship but with him not being here it has changed so much of our lives. We were already 3 in a home, just us and no other family, and with him gone it created the worst strain that continually grows. I grew up feeling lonely, misunderstood, and struggled with my peer-oriented relationships, extended family relationships, and authority figures, along with my parents. The later years of my 20's have been the hardest, most challenging, miserable, and loneliest times of my life. I prayed throughout my teens that life would be better because I couldn't fathom my future being any worse than the moments I've had. So you can understand my emptiness and hopelessness to experience the 20's where you're having the time of your life while messing up and learning your way to maturity - to have advanced challenges to face.

Besides not having the strongest support system from neither side of my paternal or maternal families I realized that time was passing and I still didn't know where to go with myself. To be quite honest I'm still trying to figure that out but I am in a much better place now if I decided writing would be my purpose. The issue that lingered in the air before my father passed was the rising tension about me still being at home. My life didn't have much meaning and I didn't know who I was. I'm still learning about who I am currently right now but think about this. Imagine not having a strong relationship with your extended family especially during the loss of a parent, not having the comfort and support of close friends, no job, living at home still, and not knowing what to do next. It can feel like the bottom is about to give out, which is what eventually happened to me with my health. You're not supposed to be in your 20's with issues involving your well-being. Vitality, right? Not so, never have I experienced a single debilitating migraine, my mom used to have them when I was in middle school and early high school, until now. It took five years to experience it but never before has it been a problem. What the female body goes through during high stress is overwhelming and crazy. I think it was the hardship of experiencing loss having an internal affect I failed to believe. When we left Georgia and stayed in California to spend time with family we hadn't seen since I was 16 my body expanded like a balloon. Feminine complications set in and I was off-track for three months. It was abnormal. With everything my mother and I were still sorting out emotionally I never brought it to her attention but she was aware of how much weight I gained. Upon returning home something else was happening that was unusual. I felt light-headed like everything was spinning, especially during the night, and thankfully approved medical insurance allowed me to go to the doctor. I was able to get regulated again over time and eventually the "vertigo" episodes  ceased.... just too much was going on. But it wasn't over yet...more on the horizon lasting from October 2008 until March 2011 at a demeaning job took me for another loop in my life...