4-20
Dad:I’m telling you Sambino, the Cavs gonna take it home this year.
Me: I don’t know daddy you know they do this all the time make it to the playoffs then blow it” Dad:Yeah well just watch.
Me:Ok dad I’m shopping with mommy….. you know how that be,
Dad:Don’t I know it.
Me:Okay I’ll call you and check on you but I’ll definitely be down there Friday.
Dad: Okay Sambino see you then and don’t let Rozzie keep you in them stores.
Call ends…no I love you’s, just an awkward air.
That was the last conversation I had with my dad. Let’s rewind shall we?
It was Saturday morning I was up and out of bed before noon which was a rarity on the weekends. I decided to get up, cook some breakfast and check out the Cleveland Flea. I had been thirsty for the weather to break so I could do some flea market shopping. It was the perfect day. It took me forever to find a parking spot as usual. After finding a spot a mile away I parked and headed to the flea. I was getting a call and I noticed hmmm a 502 number...that’s Kentucky probably a bill collector. I answered,” Hello ( in my I’m about to hang up if you don’t respond real quick voice). To my surprise it was my cousin Yolonda who lived in Louisville near my dad. Something wasn’t right, I could feel it because I rarely talk to my relatives, texting and maybe social media but I knew something was up if she was calling. It seemed like time stood still, I remember her saying you need to get down here and Cancer. Naw can’t be... him? Cancer? I had just went through Chemo, and radiation treatments with my mom. Now, here we are another parent with Cancer. I played it really calm, made my hotel arrangements Friday after work I was headed down.
The week seemed to be dragging but it was Wednesday, only 2 more days and I get to see my guy, crack jokes and clown like we always did when we got together. I was working on a report at my desk when Yolonda called, oh ok maybe he gets to go home. I answered the phone and all I heard was her breathing heavy...no words came out for a while.
Yolonda: He didn’t make it
Me: He didn’t make what?
Yolonda: He had a procedure and he didn’t make it out.
I literally screamed until I felt like I had a gaping hole in my chest and was gasping for air. I cried uncontrollably until my eyes burned and I couldn’t see through my own tears. My work sister heard me and immediately came rushing into my office. She just held onto me and I just screamed, the office had called security because no one knew what was happening. I was finally able to talk and tell that I had just lost my dad. I sat at my desk weeping until my principal came in and asked if I wanted him to take me home ,or if I wanted a family member to come pick me up. I waited a while and decided to drive myself home. It’s only 5 minutes away I can handle it, I just had to make it home. By the time I made it home my mom had already been notified and was at home waiting for me. At that moment I didn’t know if I was in shock or what. Everything the rest of that day seemed blurry. For the next few days I slept, and slept, and slept some more.
Fast forward 3 years later. I’ve been in therapy a few months trying to unravel all these levels of trauma, emotions, relationships and it’s exhausting,exhausting yet enlightening. Over time I’ve come to understand the ideology of how short life really can be. I made plans to see my dad on Friday and he was gone Wednesday. At this point in my adult life I had so many questions about my dad, I want to know who he was, what his favorite color was, if he had a favorite singer. Throughout most of my life he was an absentee parent so I never really knew him as a person. Once him and my moms relationship ended it appeared so did ours for about 20 years or so. It wasn’t until my mid 20’s that I realized the significance of his absence. My relationship patterns with men, how I was taught to be so independent I refused to ask any man for help. I had gotten really bad with the whole “ I don’t need a man for nothing” mentality. At one point I injured my shoulder, almost killed myself for trying to transport a refrigerator. I know I know, stupid….. but that was how I had been conditioned from an early age. I guess you can label me a girl with “daddy issues.” it’s so real and I didn’t understand for so long. No real man to teach me, to shape me, to show me what a man is supposed to be.
As I’ve been going through this coping and digging back into my past I understand the importance of relationships with your parents (especially fathers and daughters). I fought my mother for years on the issue. She wanted us to be close again, she always called me Norma and said I was just like him. I guess it was my mood swings, my love of writing, having my bedroom on the 3rd floor in isolation, I couldn’t stand having a house full of company, I was him in so many ways. Once we had a good momentum going I would take him grocery shopping every month. We would ride out, music blasting rolling down 105. It was crazy, we even shopped alike both of us had carts of cereal and junk ,no real groceries but always had to have olives that was “our thing” .That’s how we formed our bond. We used that shopping trip as a way to learn each other, how we ate, what our favorite foods were, how much we both hated the store!
As time passed, his health was on the decline but he was so independent he didn’t want help. My sister and I were working on a game plan then abruptly he was moved down to Kentucky with the rest of the family.
It had been a few weeks since our last grocery store trip and he hadn’t been answering the telephone. He hadn’t been calling either. He had left and I didn’t even know. That will forever be a sensitive topic. I was just getting to really know him, and he was gone again. I visited him a few times before his passing , I surprised him once and it was the best feeling. Me and my homie sat outside with solo cups and just talked and laughed. I told him I was coming back and I would be there on Friday but he was gone on Wednesday. I will forever be grateful for the 2nd chance we had and even more grateful for the life lessons I learned through his passing. It was 4-20-16 he was gone. So on 4-20...I celebrate.
Last week I took a drive, a drive I haven’t made since his passing. I drove down E. 105 and Bryant where my dad and grandparents lived until they relocated. I stood in the space my grandparents used to call home. I walked down Bryant and poured one up for my dad. As I was having a moment of reflection, I saw my granny’s tulips still there in the backyard. I realized that life was still there. Life was still there in that spot. That’s what he would have wanted chilling and spending his last day on 105. Until the next time we link up guy….