Born in the early 50s and I think always a wandering soul. If we're talking tools he could work with wood but being a father or husband not so much. Demons he has plenty, more than his share. That fine line between sanity and despair he walks day and night. The unauthorized biographical highlights of the man I knew all too well but not at all. My dad.
There's marriages and divorces, heartache and betrayal, successes and failures too many.
I have a speaker box we built together. The front is a carved cabinet door with fabric covered sides covering the speakers. The carved spots painted black then surfaces sanded and stained. I remember the 4'x8' slot car track and 70s painted bike as Christmas gifts before I was 7.
My parents met, had me in Salem, moved to Cali and had my brother, lived in a religious hippy commune, got involved in a large church, went to Nepal on missions, not necessarily all in that order, then back to Salem at 7yrs old.
My parents had a rough time. We lived in poverty for sure. There was never a time where they both worked at once. He was a scrapper. Hauled many cars to scrap that make me cry today. 55 Chevys and such. My uncle taught him the tree trimming business. Not many trees in So. Cal so moving to Oregon seemed like a sure fire deal. Like most things it wasn't what it seemed. Somewhere early he went to school to learn the eyeglass business. Something he would hate doing and coincidentally was gifted as such.
The tree business paid a few bills but never went anywhere. Eyeglass jobs came and went. One skill he never learned was working for others. He opened his own eyeglass business and did very well, eventually cajoling the bank to give him a quarter mil. loan to buy more equipment to grind and finish lenses on sight. He even patented a lens and seemed to finally be getting his due but it would not last. His lead technician diagnosed with a brain tumor or cancer or something about the same time two others decided to venture out with their own business. It became unsustainable and bankruptcy followed.
Another venture making table top waterfall plant sculptures never became profitable. A good job at a regional health clinic would last a number of years but his demons or something else deep inside caused another downfall and lost job.
In his early 40s he had a pretty good stroke. Probably younger than I am now. He got little medical attention and had a very long recovery. After his third divorce he came to live with us for a couple of weeks while he finished his Jeep. He had a trailer in the back yard and almost half of the shop and it was good for a while but there just wasn't enough space between he and I. A year and a half later he and his Jeep left.
I think at about this time he felt like his stay as part of the family had been overstayed. We had a family meeting in my house. My brother and wife were there. He wanted to move to sunny places in Arizona or somewhere and leave his past behind. Leave us behind. Somewhere inside he knew he didn't cut it as a father or a husband and he wanted to run from all his failings, as he saw it. This is my take of course. We all cried. He never left. But he left. Salem remained his home but we had no contact with him. We lost him still.
I recently found out that a few years ago he was hit by a car. Many months in a coma and his body broken from top to bottom. The doctors pieced him back together with pins holding much of him together. At roughly 60 how much healing can a body do?
The man I knew is gone. If I saw him would I recognize him? Is he even still alive? I think he is. I wanna believe I would sense it if he were gone.
I carry many of his same demons. I don't carry a coffee cup with alcohol in it every where I go and I haven't left my family. But I have wanted to. I have been hurt and I have been broken and wanted to relieve my family of my burden. Give them a chance for success. I know these are lies. I hold on to truth even if it doesn't seem true or real. I just hold on. I wonder why have I been spared and he wasn't. The answer to this question will probably never come.
God says he punishes the children to the third or fourth generation for the sins of the father. I know that sound harsh and unloving. I have a hard time with God punishing future generations for past sins. I am though paying for some of my dads stuff. And some of his dads stuff. And so on. It is simply fact. His dad took his damage and demons and raised him with that so he took the tools he was given both good and bad and passed those to me. The good news is that much of that bad stuff has been stopped. Grace is prevailing. We are giving it to God and He has washed it in the blood.
I will see you around dad.
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