My Father's Family

It’s likely that sometime between childhood and adulthood you will see someone else with something you desire, something you feel that you need. For some that is a material object that as time passes you might forget about, for others it becomes a catalyst for the rest of their existence. My father grew up in a toxic environment that left him yearning to have a family, which would become the precursor to his happiness, and inevitably his demise.

                My father had a tumultuous upbringing to say the least. His parents met in the 70’s while partying and getting high. It wasn’t long when they conceived their first son Gilbert and shortly after my father. The birth of their sons did not slow down the partying or drugs but did end their relationships. They split ways, my grandfather sticking to the usual drugs and nightlife and my grandmother seemed to direct all her focus on whatever boyfriend she had at the time. Many of the times my grandmother would make the boys leave because her new love interest didn’t like the chaos that raising to young boys brings, Leaving the young children to raise themselves in the streets. As young adolescents without any support or guidance they went separate ways, Gilbert found a sense of belonging in gangs and my father was a loner but used drugs to ease the pain left by the absence of family support. That would change when he met my mother, after dating only a couple months they conceived their first born, me. My parents decided to get married, materializing my dad’s deepest desire and he vouched to be everything his parents weren’t and to instill in his children how important family is.

                My dad seemed to be getting what he so deeply needed though it didn’t come easy he overcame his addiction, moved his little family to Utah, and worked tirelessly to provide a good life. He was a strict father but with purpose, I had a hard time understanding his rules growing up. Weekends were family days, so I wasn’t allowed to attend most parties or sleepovers like most kids in my school. Fighting with my sister wasn’t allowed, at least not around my parents. I was a very social girl, I didn’t like the rules I would almost always test them, and never get my way. When I rebelled, my dad would take me on drives where he would attempt to explain the reasoning behind his decisions was his pernicious childhood. I heard his memoirs of his neglectful upbringing and of his vouch to give us better, but I didn’t understand yet the importance of family within his heart and soul.

                Our Family was everything to my dad and deeply affected him, good or bad, pain or happiness, what we felt he felt. I was a witness to that my whole life and without even realizing it, I developed the same yearning for my own little family. Dating and Boys were forbidden in my family, so when I thought I met my prince charming I had to hide it from my parents. One week after I graduated high school, I decided to pack my things and leave a note on my bed telling my parents I had a boyfriend, that I was in love and everything is going to be okay. My dad was the one to find it, I wish I would have known the pain leaving caused him. He spiraled into a fit of fury fueled by the fear and disappointment of his first-born daughter leaving home with some boy who they had no idea she was dating. He was devastated and couldn’t help but feel his family that he worked so hard to hold together was falling apart. That was never my intention, I was following my obsession with starting my own family like him. How paradoxical it is our dream to have a loving family would turn out to be a nightmare of heartbreak.

Two years Later My father who had been working out of state in California while my mom stayed with the boys in Utah finally convinced my mom to move back to California. He hated working out of state as he missed milestones of my brothers lives in order to support our family, so he was elated when my mother agreed. Moving wasn’t cheap and my father worked a minimum of 12 hrs. a day 7 days a week and most times more to afford a beautiful home for my family. In the process of all the hard work he had worn down his Achilles Tendon which became extremely painful and required surgery that without insurance my dad couldn’t afford, the alternative offered by his physician was pain pills. They made the pain go away, but as his work hours progressed so did his tolerance which started a cycle that reignited the addict within him, he relapsed. When my mom came to California, she quickly recognized his relapse which lead to arguments and ultimately my mom asking my dad to leave the house he worked so hard for to keep my brothers from being exposed to his addiction. He was once again devastated this time sure that he had lost the very family he worked so hard to create. Worry started to fill our minds when I hadn’t heard from my father in 2 days, that was extremely peculiar even scary. I got into contact with his friends who explained how distraught he was about the relapse and was sure my mom was done with him, which He couldn’t live with. Our search for my dad ended when a police officer from west Covina knocked on my mom’s door bringing news that would change our family forever, he had overdosed on pills and alcohol. I can’t help but notice the irony of the situation that his deepest desire, caused him pain throughout his life, and ultimately led to his death

                The broken and dysfunctional family my dad grew up with created an intense desire to give himself the family he deserved. This was the underlying incentive behind every action and emotion he endured. He wanted deeply to imbed in my siblings the importance of family. It wasn’t until his death the first time I too felt a void where the love I used to feel within my family once was, at that moment I truly understood the method to his madness. Family is first and above all, that is imbedded into my existence. Though To this day, I sit and wonder, if it is worth it to desire anything to the point where it may cause pain.