My dad is on my dresser

August 21st of this year was the 5 year anniversary of my father's death. They always tell you that it will 'get easier' but what they never tell you is that it will get better. I had an extremely hard time adjusting to my father's absence in my life. Not only was he only 52 when he passed but he also died at the point in my life when I needed him the most. This is something I wrote to my dad 6 months after he died, right after I watched The Oscars:

February 24, 2008
"I actually went into the Oscars this year with complete ignorance, having no idea who was hosting. Those of you who know me well know that I am a huge television whore and am usually painfully up to date on everything Hollywood and celebrity related. What a pleasant surprise it was when Jon Stewart walked onto the stage. Stewart is a brilliantly hilarious comedian with political views and a comedic style that very closely mirror my own. It's not exactly a coincidence that I am a fan as I tend to grow fond of people who are most like myself, famous and ordinary alike.

Stewart's opening monologue spewed out witty one-liners, refreshingly new political satire mocking the atrocity that is and will always be the American Republican Party and its supporters and typical yet priceless celebrity roasts.

I found myself laughing out loud hysterically to the point of tears. As tears streamed down my face and being completely caught up in the moment I reached for my phone, as I do every time I find something to be extraordinarily funny and clever. An instinctive reaction that I have yet to conquer. I can't share these moments with him anymore. I can't call him up and ask him if he's watching the Oscars. Ask him if he's impressed that Stewart is hosting again. Ask him if he just heard that last comment comparing Obama with Hitler and how f***ing facetious it was.

I owe every ounce of my comedic nature to him. I owe him my wit, my sarcasm, my tendency to make light of very serious situations. I owe him my quick sharp-tongued responses, my lack of normal human reactions, my reluctance to trust camouflaged with inappropriate humor. Not all of the aforementioned may seem at first glance to be things for which to be indebted. But trust me, they are.
F*** I miss you."

I did that for months, years even. Every time I thought something was really funny or I got a flat tire or I felt like I needed to be told what to do I reached for my phone to call him. Sometimes I would realize what I was doing mid-reach and I would stop but sometimes I even dialed the number. Regardless, it always ended the same. With me in tears, realizing I was on my own now.

This doesn't happen anymore. There isn't even one teeny tiny ounce of my being that forgets he isn't here and for even a split second thinks about calling him. You might be thinking it's because so much time has passed that I'm forgetting him but if you thought that you would be terribly wrong. The reason I no longer reach for my phone to call him is because my dad is no longer a phone call away. He's right here, with me. I am not a religious person by any means but I know he is here. I feel closer to him now than I ever did when he was alive in the flesh. We've bonded now and we understand each other now. He is with me every time I make a tough decision and every time I cry and feel defeated and want to give up. He gives me the courage to be myself and follow my dreams and believe you me, those were not things he did when he was alive.

I hate that wording. He IS alive. He's more alive now than he ever was in his miserable and trauma filled material life. He's at peace now and I am too because for the first time in my life I am no longer fighting him, I'm working with him...he probably really hates that.

On August 21, 2012 I unpacked my dad's ashes. He had been sitting in a Rubbermaid container in my closet the past 5 years and he is now sitting on my dresser.

 

Part 2 - Soul Mates are only slightly different than Play-doh

Read Part 1 here - http://www.organizeddysfunction.com/2012/09/my-mom-married-black-man-off-internet.html

When asked how my dad and mom met, my mom's answer was always the same. She has told me since I could understand words, and everyone else that would listen, that she was in love with someone else. She was engaged to someone else. Her fiance was killed in a tragic tractor accident and my mom was so devastated that she wanted to die. She didn't care what happened in life after that and so she married the first man that came along. Aside from being just a beautiful, romantic and inspiring message of love for her children - knowing their mother didn't love their father - this was a true reflection of my mother's outlook on life and a realistic representation of her person.

Fast forward 30 years and my father had just passed away. And although she never wanted to be married to him in the first place, there is only one thing my mom wanted less: to be alone. One would think that you would take some time to reflect on your life in a situation like this, pinpoint your mistakes and then take action to ensure you learn from those errors. But One doesn’t think. My mother had convinced herself that her entire marriage was dysfunctional because of my dad. She didn’t, and continues to not, understand the concept of taking responsibility for herself and her actions and her life. Now, with her late husband out of the picture, my mom had but one mission: “To find her soul mate”. Her words, not mine. What a ridiculous concept. Believing that there is just one perfect person sitting there, waiting for you somewhere in the world and the only effort you have to put into the relationship is finding that person is about as senseless as believing in the Tooth Fairy. Regardless, this was my mother’s mission.

I tried talking to my mom. I tried telling her a bit about the grieving process and how she should maybe be a little less aggressive in her 'soul mate search' until she was thinking more clearly. I tried encouraging her to take a step back and give some thought as to what she really wanted and needed in a relationship. My mom was very clear with her intent. She started writing messages to every man she could find online that said “Are you my soul mate?”. Men would write to her, telling her a bit about themselves and their lives and asking her to describe herself in return and she would respond with “I am just looking for my soul mate, are you my soul mate?”.

I remember feeling truly embarrassed for her. She was making herself sound desperate and that's the last thing I wanted for her, for fear of people without the best intentions. Love interest #1 told her he was in between paychecks and asked for her to pay for his trip up to her house and then for a trip to Hawaii together with promises of paying her back. And he did pay her back, by dumping her the day they left Hawaii. Love interest #2 I don't know much about except that my mom paid for herself and two of her friends to go to his city to meet him and it was over before she left. But it wasn’t until love interest #3 that I started to grow curious. My mother, who was a 55 year old white woman from North Dakota (she’s still white and still from North Dakota, she’s just no longer 55) seemed to have a new very specific type.

So, I did what any daughter who is monitoring her mother’s online dating activity weeks after her father’s funeral would do, I asked. I told her I was noticing a common theme between all of her suitors and I was just curious as to how that came about. My mother then confessed that when she submitted her online profile on the dating website it had asked her for her preferences in men and she had checked the boxes for:

-BLACK ONLY
-FROM CALIFORNIA, TEXAS, HAWAII, ARIZONA, FLORIDA

In a state of shock and even though I knew I would regret knowing, I asked for an explanation. How could she, in one breath, say she wanted to find her soul mate but then say he had to fit some tiny manufactured mold in the next? And I then learned that she was only interested in black men from warm States, so she could move somewhere warm.

There is only one idea more ludicrous than believing there is just one perfect person sitting there, waiting for you somewhere in the world and that is believing you can put bizarre and idealistic limitations onto your already absurd belief. So which was it? Was she looking for her soul mate or was she looking for a black man from California, Texas, Hawaii, Arizona or Florida?

I think we all know how that one turned out.
 

My mom married a black man off the Internet and moved to Texas - Part 1

My mom married a black man off the Internet and moved to Texas. This has been, among other things, my Twitter bio and go-to punch line in most of my jokes for some time now. At first glance, it may even appear racist on some level. And it is. Let me explain.

You see, my mom married a black man off the Internet and moved to Texas. Five years ago, my father passed away from cancer. In a strange way, I thought this would be some sort of relief to my mom, since she has been telling me my entire life that she hated him and wished she had never married him. My parents were still married at the time of his death but because my mom has told me countless times that the only reason she stayed married to him was because of me and her restrictive religion, I thought in some way his death would bring her freedom. I realized that losing your husband, regardless of your feelings for him as a person, would not be easy. But I really did think that with him gone, she would become a whole person. Something I had been eager to experience for years. My mom, I believed, would finally become my mother.

After my father passed, my mom - whom I have been raising my entire life - regressed further into childhood. This was disappointing to everyone in her life and we all tried our very best to guide her. She didn't seek counseling. She didn't take time to grieve. She didn't reach out to her friends and family who had already lost their husbands to disease and unfortunate circumstance. She didn't buck up and become the rock her children needed. She didn't do any of the things that could be considered reasonable, for a grieving widow with grieving children. 

My mom did, however, sign up for an online dating service immediately after my father's death. In amongst her suicide threats, her impulsive rash decisions and her desperate cries for desperation, she managed to submit an online profile on a dating site. Now, I have no problem with my mom 'moving on' and finding a new partner in life. I was actually happy for her. I thought to myself, 'My mom hated my dad and was miserable the entire 30 years they were married. Now is her chance to find someone she's compatible with and become the woman I've always yearned for her to be!'.

It wasn't until I found out how my mom filled out the online dating profile that I realized nothing had changed. She was still the same person I had always known and it was then that I realized history was about to repeat itself.

To be continued....