Positively Scarred

I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned in previous posts about how close my dad and I are. He’s been my rock and my voice of reason when things weren’t so great with my mom and I. As I get older, I realize more & more what a cool daddy I have and how lucky I am to have such an awesome man in my life.

So naturally when I found out he had to have surgery, I was a little scared. But, I was reassured it would be okay. They were just going to repair a hernia. Pretty routine, right? I suppose normal routines don’t run in my family. After 3 hours, I learned he had an iliac crest aneurysm. The doctor was repairing the hernia; he pulled and all of a sudden, my dad had an aneurysm and started bleeding out. They had to call in a vascular surgeon and he had to repair the vein. My dad ended up needing two units of blood. My step mom told me, “We’re very lucky.” And I couldn’t agree more. The surgeons acted without hesitation and fixed the problem and my dad is now resting in ICU.

But it was that in between time of not knowing… My step mom called me and told me about the aneurysm, which was quickly followed by, “Hold on, I’ll have to call you back.” I wondered why a doctor was coming out to talk to her so soon after he had just been out to see her. I felt like something was wrong, like something happened. Maybe they couldn’t fix the problem. Maybe he had another aneurysm.

I had all these thoughts running through my head, and I was scared. At almost 24 years old, I am nowhere near ready to lose my dad. Who would walk me down the aisle at my wedding? Who would share new music with me? Who would I talk to about our favorite TV shows? Go to concerts with? Travel with?

I know it sounds like I’m over exaggerating, but I really feel like I could have lost my daddy today. And the fact that I didn’t makes me that much more grateful to have him in my life & to have him as my dad.

I’m crying now as I write this. I’m going to see what it’s like from a different perspective. Seeing someone I love connected to tubing and wearing a hospital gown. He’s seen me in the same position so many times already, I’ll finally know what it’s like. I’m scared he’s going to be disappointed if I get upset. I will try to hold back tears and stop myself from crying in front of him. He’s been so strong for me, that I need to be strong for him.

I love you, Daddy. I’ll see you soon.

We had a mouse living in our garage. Notice the past tense. Mom would see him come out from behind the sink, climb up on the vacuum, up the cord, hop over to the recycling bins, circle the bin, hop back to the cord, down the cord, around the vacuum, hop down, and run back behind the sink.

It was like an exercise wheel. And boy, was this mouse smart.

We (the family and I) went to my step dad’s make up softball game on Tuesday. (Make up from the week we were rained out.) Kris (step dad) was going to put on his cleats and notices that his bag of sunflower seeds has a hole in it. And then, oh, look, there are empty shells in the other shoe! This mouse chewed a hole in the bag, got the seeds, and left the empty shells in the other shoe. This is one smart son of a bitch.

So then Kris is looking through his bag, checking for holes or bite marks and finds nothing. He pulls out his glove and LO AND BEHOLD, there’s a mouse. He jumps out at Kris’ face and somehow manages to fall on the ground without breaking himself. Then he runs through the dugout, out the gate and across the grass.

I guess this means we’re now in the mouse relocation business.

I’m mad.

No, I’m beyond mad. I’m livid.

Here’s what happened:
One of my sister’s BFFs is moving away. So, they had a party for her at my sister’s mom’s house. All cool, right? So today as I’m browsing Facebook I come across her other BFFs status. It’s the standard “Last night was fun, we’re going to miss you ____” shit. There’s a comment. I read it.

It’s one of the girls who attended the party. And she basically said, in not so many words, that she drove home. Drunk.

Cue alarms going off in my head. Cue instant anger. Cue “they should fucking know better” reaction.

My sister, of all people, should fucking know better than to let someone she knows get behind the wheel drunk. And she better damn well know she shouldn’t do it herself.

I know it’s kind of ridiculous for me to be as pissed off as I am. But it’s common sense. This “it will never fucking happen to me” attitude is bullshit. Because it does happen. It’s happening NOW. Right under their noses.

How could they let her? Granted, nothing happened, she made it home. She’s safe. But REGARDLESS, how DARE they allow that to even be an option.

And the kicker? MY SISTER’S MOTHER WAS THERE. She let it happen, also. Someone who is supposed to be a RESPONSIBLE ADULT let a girl who IS UNDER LEGAL DRINKING AGE leave DRUNK to drive home.

I can’t even wrap my head around all this. I’m so mad. I’m livid. I’m pissed. I’m upset.

I cried. I cried to my mom and step dad. I told them how pissed off it made me feel. My step dad called her and at the end of the conversation said, “I have to talk to you when you get home.”

I posted a passive aggressive status on Facebook, which I know is ridiculous of me because that’s like yelling at a deaf person over the phone. But I’m mad.

The other thing that’s crossed my mind is how many other people did they let leave drunk? How many other friends didn’t have a designated driver? How many more lives did they put at risk?

I’m baffled. I’m upset. I’m pissed off. I’m hurt.

[note: a vast majority of songs remind me of any given person, sometimes a song reminds me of multiple people, as seen with the previous songs I’ve written about. This one in particular is special, so pay attention.]

My dad has always been my music mentor; he introduced me to my favorite bands, to new artists, to songs that have moved my soul… He’s still the one I go to when I hear of a new band, or want to share an old find. I trust his musical tastes. I mean, you can’t go wrong with a guy who used to kick it with Dino Cazares in high school, right?

Growing up, I listened to whatever he listened to: rock, metal, pop… He’d put in a different CD every time we had to drive somewhere. Sometimes I’d ask about the lyrics… “Daddy? What does Wyclef mean when he says ‘I can’t work a 9 to 5’?” And he’d give me an explanation. Sometimes it was the correct answer, like telling me a ‘9 to 5’ is a metaphor for a legal job, but other times I think he just made things up.

My parents divorced when I was six years old, and I didn’t live with my dad full-time until I transferred schools my sophomore year. So any time I got to spend with him was the highlight of my week. We had regular Friday night dates: We’d either go out to eat at a nice restaurant, or order pizza. On Saturday mornings, he’d cook me breakfast and we would watch cartoons. I lived for those days.

As I got older, and music became more prominent to me, it became the bond that kept us together. It’s still the common ground we share. We’ve been to so many concerts together, shared so many songs, introduced each other to so many artists. I can’t imagine anyone else being my musical maven. A thousand and one songs rush to my head when I think of my dad… This one in particular is a favorite, because my dad used to drive a blue Ford Ranger, and I still love the lyrics today. (Even more so now, because I actually comprehend the meaning of the song.)

Even still to this day, I catch myself literally counting blue cars…

This one is for you, Daddy…