My dad didn't live with us anymore.
I remember it was my first communion. I had the pretty white dress, veil, white shoes and white stockings. I remember putting my new shoes on a few days before I made my first communion. They were still attached with the elastic string and price tag. I put them on and pulled my feet apart and broke the strap on the shoe. And I was yelled at, understandably so. My mom got me another pair and I left them alone until I had to get them on for church lol. We went to church and there was a small party at our house. My grandparents on my mom's side were there. Probably my aunts on her side too. And I think some of the D'Acquisto family were there. I am sure my Aunt Grace was there because she was my godmother. Only there was a person missing. My Dad. I am not sure if he wasn't invited or if he just was too hurt to come. My mom told me that he was going to take me out to eat instead of coming to the party and I could wear my fancy first communion dress. I had my dress on, and I can't remember if I was waiting for him or if it was the night of the party, but I spilled coffee on my dress. I was devasted. My mom yelled at me because you know coffee stains and the dress was white. Like I said, my memory fails me, and I am not sure the exact sequence of this, but my dad was a no show. And I was very sad.
They fought a lot! Dad was here and there. He lived with Nana and Grandpa mostly. He was supposed to get us four kids on weekends. But that didn't always happen. We would be disappointed often. And if we showed any form of disappointment, my mom would have a few choice names that she would call him or some rude remark as to why he didn't come and get us. We missed our family that we spent so much time with. When dad would get us, we would go horseback riding. Roller-skating. The outdoor theater. There was a place called Kiddyland in Racine that had little carnival rides, and we went there often. We went down by the piers on the lake and to the Racine Zoo. I remember my brother had a little gas motorized boat and he and dad would put it in the pond at the zoo. Other boys did too. In winter we ice skated on that pond by the zoo. We went to Nana's house and played with our cousins. Or to one of our aunts' homes. My Uncle Sammy lived in the country, or should I say "the county" off the frontage road by Hwy 94. We would go there, and I remember flying kites out there. I had a "Batman" kite. It was way out there, and it was so cool. And then I dropped the string, and it just rolled away... very fast. Dad chased it down, but he couldn't catch the string. I lost my Batman kite. Or could it have been my brother's kite? Hahaha, it could have been Joe's. Either way we lost Baman. One Easter my dad rolled up to the house in his car. He had four easter baskets in the car. It was a pretty warm day, so needless to say they were melted lol. He took us to Chippewa Falls one time because his girlfriend Denise was from there. We stayed in a cottage and went to a zoo. There is a picture of us sitting on dad's green convertible. I remember Denise was going to boil some eggs and I told her that my mom told me to put salt in the water so the water would boil faster. She added salt and chuckled. Not sure to this day if that is true, but I still salt the water. Dad played music on a reel-to-reel tape player while we were there. I remember the song was " D-I-V-O-R-C-E " sung by Tammy Wynette and he had tears in his eyes. Later in life, when I was married to Dave and we would visit and go out dancing with dad and one of his girlfriends, Dad and I would always dance to " Don't Cry Daddy" sung by Elvis. I still listen to it.
My parents fought constantly. My mom would refer to him as "BOZO" or "Ass Hole". I am certain there were other names. She wouldn't let us see him. Years later when I was helping my dad in his apartment on Kennedy Dr, he had me go through some papers, with him of course. I came across a yellow manilla envelope that contained court papers. Next to it were receipts for child support. His friend Red had stopped in and I declared in astonishment, "Dad! You paid child support!" I always heard how he never paid. And Red said quite cocky, "I picked your dad up from Jail almost every payday!" I just looked at them both shaking my head and wanting to yell at someone. How the hell could this have happened? How could she lie to us? Now I don't think my dad had every receipt. Did he maybe miss a payment here and there? Maybe. But why would that even matter? God I was pissed! I calmly put it all in the yellow manilla envelope and told my dad to never get rid of them. Someone would like to read those one day. And he kept them. And when he passed away, my brother found them in dad's bedroom and read them. He was pissed just as I was that day I found them. Quite ironically at the end of the paperwork she was threatened with contempt. I rest my case.
There was a price on our four little heads. If Dad didn't pay child support; we didn't see him. If he paid support, she made his life a living hell, so he wouldn't show up. She gets a boyfriend that she eventually marries, and life is NEVER as it should be. NEVER! They move us four hours north and make it nearly impossible for us to see our dad. Or any other family member. And our lives became a living hell because she married a fricking monster. Without elaborating on his monstrous ways...I will leave it to your imagination. And just so you know, your imagination is 100% correct. Why not elaborate? Because number one, he doesn't deserve the power. And number two, you have four young children who never spoke of it amongst themselves, it was only unspoken through our eyes and quite often with tears. We knew each other's heart and felt the other's pain. And we should have run away and called our dad. But that's the sick part. We were afraid of our mom. We never mentioned dad anymore. We never mentioned Nana or Grandpa or Auntie Gracie. And when I was in the 5th grade that man adopted us. We had to change our name and call him dad. When they sat us down and told us, I remember saying "Well, we can't ever see our real dad ". Those words haunted me because my mom took that as a positive and that is not what I meant. And I was only twelve... my words never mattered. I wasn't allowed to have a voice. I felt she took it as if I was ok with this adoption, because my dad was never there. And that still makes me mad. It's like she needed anything to reenforce her decision to let this guy adopt her four kids and ruin their lives. Forever. Because it does not go away. I can't even say it gets better because it's never gone. Our trust was destroyed. My faith was questioned. You don't know what love is anymore. You completely lose yourself in all aspects. You have no confidence. Your NEVER good enough. You never fit in. And I ALWAYS hear...it's in the past. Get over it. You can't change it. And absolutely. All that unnecessary bullshit that you had to deal with as a child is now on your adult shoulders, and you have to fix what they broke. I can't even begin to explain how difficult this is. How lonely it is. But not impossible. By the Grace of God we are our own Hero's.
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