my son's first ever seizure, a friend's prayer

Last night, I received an email from a dear friend of mine. I won't post my friend's name since that person knows whom I'm referring to and that's more than enough for us both.

i can't figure out how to comment on your blog... wanted to let you know i'm praying for your son.

My response was from the heart.

As cynical as I can be, I learned not to trust others. At the same time, after living with my father who is a pathological liar (to say the least; http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/12/rants-stolen-goods-trust.html), I learned not to say anything I don't feel (different from not lying). Furthermore, as I have stated in my blog, whatever little I post on-line is not to trigger any one's pity or any other emotion (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-sons-first-ever-seizure-no-ones.html). Needless to say I do appreciate your honest words. As a matter of fact, no one else has bothered. Said all this, thank you for your words and prayers. I do appreciate them. You're a good friend and soul.

It's good to know that some people do care. Thank you my dear friend (once again, no name needed).

rants: stolen goods & trust

When I was growing up in Elmhurst, Queens (1983-85), my parents would to little steal things and sell them abroad to make ends meet. Maybe it was expected from them as the buyers were more than happy to pay for these goods. This isn't the example parents should give their children, but maybe they knew I wouldn't turn them in or betray them. Maybe this is what made me more and more cynical over the years. This might have also triggered my lack of trust and dying dependency on my parents when I was between thirteen and fifteen. About this time, I still trusted my parents and kin, but that trust slowly decayed in less than a decade.

When I turned nineteen (1990), my father accused me of stealing his semi-professional VHS camera ignoring the fact the brother of the woman he was sleeping with at the time could've taken it. This betrayal took me by surprise and learned the hard way that my father cares more for any woman in his bed than his four children (myself included). When I turned twenty-two (1993), my paternal grandmother made sure I understood that she didn't want me around and always complained about me. That was cool with me since I'd never liked her. When she died (1995), part of my father's side of the family accused me of triggering her heart attack although I'd been far from this bitch. Of course, no one seemed to care to listen that the woman my father was sleeping with at that time (different from the one before) had triggered the heart attack. A little time later, my father dared to steal and/or allowed some other woman he was sleeping with at the time steal the child support money for my first-born boy (2000-02). Hence my trust and consideration for my father continued to die. A couple of years later, he committed his final betrayal and haven't seen him since (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-fathers-last-betrayal.html). Needless to say (type), nowadays I don't trust in my father at all and I'm very careful to trust his side of the family. Besides having no intention to see or talk to him ever again (2004), I remain the "better" man since I know many secrets about my father that could get him arrested or killed, but I've got no interest in doing him harm. Further more, I don't think he'll apologize for his actions ever.

My mother's a different story so far. She denied my right to be, meet and have a relationship with my half-sisters and half-brother while growing up (circa 1978-86; http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/10/no-bother-no-sisters.html). She dragged to her hometown making me lose a school year wasting my effort that I took to skip a grade (seventh to ninth, special class for semi-gifted children; 1984) -- hence not being able to finish high school at sixteen. Surprisingly enough for me at least, I still have a relationship with her, but I'm careful to take my mother on face value. I guess she doesn't want to "lose" me as my father carelessly did. In some way, I still have somewhat of a relationship with her side of the family, but as much or close since my maternal grandmother died (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/05/remembering-my-grandmother.html).

At the end of it all, I ate thanks to stolen goods. I've stolen and paid the price. I guess my parents did much more harm than I'd previously though and considered -- a thousand times more than they know or cared to admit. Hence this might be the biggest chip on my shoulder, my biggest rant. Putting it all in handful of words, I'm fucked!

rants: like an orphan

Sometimes I wonder if having no relationship with my father (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-fathers-last-betrayal.html) feels like being an orphan. Then again an orphan would most likely remember his/her parent(s) with some level of love and good memories.

In these cruel days of worries (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-sons-first-ever-seizure.html), I wonder if I'd feel any better by telling him that his grandchild had to spend a night at the hospital merely three blocks away from he lives, but he wouldn't care. After all, he didn't care before as he dared kicking my sick son (two at the time) out to the streets like a dog (horrible expression since no dog ever deserves such abuse).

I admit that I might have never been the child he wanted. After all, I've never been a sports fan or a good child (trouble maker, strong temper, etc), shared his beliefs (politics, society, sleeping with as many women as possible, behavior and attitude especially to my two sisters and brother, etc) and even called him when he lies (lawyer). Then again, he also dared to say that maybe I wasn't his son to several people except to my face making him such a coward.

Once again, I conclude that my father's not worth my time, effort and forgiveness. He betrayed me and dared to betray my sick child. Needless to say (type), I'd never forgive him for his offensive actions against me and my children.

worst father ever, me (maybe)

Then again (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/11/worst-father-ever-me.html), sometimes I think I'm so bad of a father (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-fathers-last-betrayal.html). Only time and God would tell.

no one to trust

Growing up, my father taught me to trust no one. Ironically the person I could never trust is my own father (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-fathers-last-betrayal.html). In all, I don't trust people in general, but I've given my "blind" trust to a small group of people. Nonetheless that trust can never be truly blind as much as I wish it was. If any of my friends lies to me, he/she would have betrayed me and hence lost all trust being immediately disposed of.

all hallows' eve: the fun

Hallowe'en (Halloween) is the night when the dead walk the face of the earth or when the weirdos walk the earth if you live in NYC. It's the night of costumes, mischief, pumpkins with candles and a good excuse for freshly baked pumpkin pie.

It's simply my favorite time of the year (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/10/autumn-pumpkins-apple-pies.html) -- an old Pagan celebration of the occult (the unknown) followed by All Saints Day. It's no surprise that these two traditions are intertwined as the dead are celebrated in a variety of customs.

To me, it's a bit different though. The day before Hallowe'en is my brother's birthday (46). It's a two day excuse to party and drink before going to church. Well at least, this is what it could and should have been (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/10/no-bother-no-sisters.html). Nowadays we're older and dull with children, work and other mundane obligations. At least, we still have Hallowe'en to act like children or at least make our children silly.

no bother, no sisters

My father's been married several times. In his first marriage, my oldest sister (two months shy of 48) and only brother (46) were born. During a fling, my other sister (40) was born -- who happens to be cousin to a good friend of mine since we were four years old (now 39).

Stupidly enough my parents had the great idea to keep away from my half-brother and my two half-sisters for about eight years. I practically grew up alone while seeing my friends with brothers and/or sisters.

At the age of 15, I finally met my oldest sister and only brother. A year or so later, my other sister introduced herself as such whom I had known only as my friend's cousin.

My father was willing to introduce me to my oldest sister (maybe the last good thing that my father ever did for my oldest sister and me; http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-fathers-last-betrayal.html) who pushed me to meet by brother. Then I introduced my younger sister to my brother and older sister. This is no way to meet one's family, but this is the way we finally met and got together.

my father's last betrayal

My father betrayed me several times -- accusing me of theft, allowing some woman he was sleeping with to steal my child support money, leaving to pay his debts several times, constantly lying to me and even having the audacity to kick us out his apartment after a fight when he had no where to go putting my son out in the street like a dog (horrible expression).

I gave him several "second" chances to correct his actions, but his last betrayal was just too much. No one offends my children in any way and gets away with it.

For the past six years, I haven't talked to my father and have no intention of doing so. As much as the Bible says that we should revere our parents, my father deserves none. As much as the Bible says that we should forgive our trespassers, I don't think I'll ever forgive my father.

Maybe all this makes me a bad son, but at least I am a good father to my children (http://project05952381.blogspot.com/2010/10/pledge-campaign.html). Well God will decide who's right and who's wrong, but at least my children are safe.