Hello Father Ch. 02

Once I reached nineteen, I looked for my father about every three months. I asked mom once if she ever looked or found him, and she began to cry. She stated that she never found him. My guess is that she looked for him, but never found anything.

I did on-line searches whenever I had the chance. Google is a wonderful thing. I got copies of his degree on-line and a couple of articles in aeronautical engineering magazines that mentioned his name. However, I never got anything current. It was just after summer when I got a hit. I discovered the race results of the San Diego Half Marathon. There, I found a listing with my father's name, age, and La Jolla was the city of residence. I remembered that dad ran a couple of 10k races when we were growing up. So I explored deeper. The race had a bunch of pictures of the start, finish and various shots of the crowd. In a background shot, I could make out someone who looked like him. Bingo.

My drive got me to St. George before dark. My family stood at a cross roads, and I now had the key to either destroying the rest of the way or trying to heal it. How would my brothers take the news of what mom did? We all transferred the blame to him. My brothers continuously asked why could he not forgive her. What was so bad? What about us? Now that I had the answers to these questions, I knew the effect that information would have. Would the anger and hate be transferred to mom? She was just barely holding on as it is. If her sons rebelled, that would push her over the edge. I was in a quandary. However, as the oldest, it was my burden to bear.

I found a small chain hotel just outside St. George and pulled in before six. The hotel had a diner, and I grabbed a quick hamburger. I was in bed by nine. But I don't think I fell asleep until past one.

I began the second day of my journey home by seven the next morning. I filled up the gas tank and headed north on Highway 15. Through the miles, I recalled the hurt in my father's words. I understood that hurt. I had my own experience with unfaithfulness. I began to remember how my experiences mirrored my dad's.

The restaurant I worked at always had a lot of young kids as waiters and waitresses. Turnover was very high, and I had the longest tenure. About eight months ago, they hired a new girl. She was very cute, killer body with a bubbly personality. She would light up a room whenever she entered. Somehow, she gravitated towards me. Her name was Vanessa Brown.

I was working full-time and going to school as well. My time was split between family, work, and school. One day after a long dinner shift at the restaurant, Vanessa came over to me. We talked about the stupid customers, how bad the cooks were and guessed how much our tips would be for the night. Somehow, out of nowhere my mouth began to talk. I asked her if she wanted to have a coffee after we got off. When my brain caught up to my mouth, it was too late. I began to blush and stammer. To my surprise, she said yes. She said that she would love to have a cup with me.

After work, I drove us over to the Starbucks and got us a coffee. I ordered a medium coffee, and she had a double vente latte whatever. Eight dollars later, we had our coffee and sat at a table to talk. Conversation flowed. I was amazed that this good-looking girl would want to spend time with me. During the conversation, I looked at my watch and noted that we had been here for two hours. I had school tomorrow, and she had the early shift. I drove her back to the restaurant to pick up her car. Before jumping out of my car, she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. "I had fun. Let's do this again." She said.

So it began. We had coffee at Starbucks a couple of times per week. After three weeks of this, she said, "I am off this Friday. I think you are too."

While I may have been a little dense, I was not completely stupid. I saw this as an opening and asked her out. "Hey, do you want to go out with me on Friday?" I asked.

She smiled and said that she would love to.

That began my relationship with Vanessa Brown. We went to Starbucks a couple of times a week and went on dates one or two other nights. After another three weeks, Vanessa mentioned that her roommate was away for the weekend and invited me up. On that night, I gave Vanessa my virginity. Later before falling asleep, I wondered if Vanessa gave me the same gift.

We continued on for about four months. I think I was falling for Vanessa. On our fifth month anniversary, I gave Vanessa a promise ring. She jumped into my arms and stuck her tongue so far down my throat that I almost choked. I was so happy.

We had been going out about eight months, when I was called in to work a double shift. One of the other waitresses had an emergency, and the manager asked if I could cover for her. I called Vanessa and told her that I could not meet her, and she was okay with that. I was two hours into the shift when the other girl rushed into work. The emergency had been resolved, and she asked if she could work the rest of the shift. She really needed the money. I said okay and changed clothes. I figured that I could get to Vanessa's apartment, and maybe we still could go out. Vanessa lived in a garden style apartment on the second floor. I climbed the steps to her apartment and passed her picture window. Glancing through the gap in the curtains, I saw my Vanessa making out with Peter Joiner. Peter was the morning manager at our restaurant. I was crushed. I knocked on Vanessa's door. She opened the door and gasped as she recognized me. She was flustered and began to mumble something about not expecting me.

Calmly, I said, "I understand that I was supposed to be working, but I got the evening off. I also understand that you have made alternative arrangements. I will not force you to alter your plans. However, I will ask that you give me my ring back. I will not have you using a hand that my ring adorns to jack off Peter Joiner."

I grabbed her hand and took my ring off. "It has been nice knowing you; and good-bye. If by chance, we should pass, please pretend that you don't know me, and I will do the same." I made it home and climbed into my bed alone.

The next morning, I left for San Diego to follow up on the leads I had on my father. As I think back to that decision now, maybe I was just like my father, running away rather than facing the betrayal.

I arrived home from San Diego at about six o'clock, just in time for dinner. Mom called everyone, and we all sat down to eat. Conversations flowed, and questions were asked. Tim asked about my vacation in San Diego. I lied and told him about the zoo and Sea World. I mentioned about the schools there and how they would be great for Randy and Tim. I looked at Michael. To me, he looked stoned. I looked over to Randy, and he just shrugged his shoulders. I don't think mom saw the exchange. Mom asked about Vanessa. I told her what happened. When I got to the part about my ring, she broke down and ran from the table.

"Good going, dude." said Tim.

They continued their banter. I looked around the table and again questioned what I should say. What could I say? How does a son destroy his mother? I felt I could hang Vanessa from the highest light pole, but could I do the same thing to mom. They both cheated and mom's crime was even worse. She had children by someone else. I now know how it feels to walk around with an atomic bomb in my pocket.

I decided to bide my time and think about it. Meanwhile, life continued on. Randy enrolled in the local junior college. He got a couple of scholarship offers, but didn't want to leave his brothers. Tim was in his last year of high school and looking for a collage to go to.

I came up with an idea. The next day, after school, I approached Randy and Tim and suggested they look at San Diego State University. Randy could transfer in as a junior and Tim could enroll as a freshman. They could share a dorm. Between Randy's grades and Tim's sports, I was sure they could be accepted. They thought about it a bit, but were hesitant. San Diego is a long way from mom, Michael, and me. I assured them that we would be fine. Tim came around and was all for the idea, but Randy wasn't sure.

Tim and I kept pushing for San Diego State. We printed applications and maps of the school. However, all our pushing just increased Randy's reluctance. It came to a head on Friday afternoon. We were in Tim's room, working on his application when Randy blew up. "I can't understand why you are pushing San Diego." He said.

"It is an exceptional school. You two will be great there, and you will have each other." I came back with. But Randy was not a dummy.

"Couldn't we go to University of Colorado? That way, we would not be too far from you guys?"

I tried to remain calm, "No; San Diego would be better."

"This is stupid." Randy yelled. "I think we should just go to Colorado. Tell me why we should go all the way to San Diego."

I knew the time had come. "Because dad is there." I whispered.

Silence.

They both had the look of total shock on their faces. 'Dad is in San Diego?' Followed by questions: 'how do you know?' 'Have you talked to him?'

They both began to spurt the questions out. "Where is he? Have you talked to him? Did you find him when you went to San Diego? Why did he leave? Can I talk to him?" I could see the beginnings of tears in their eyes.

I tried to calm them down and answer some questions. "I found some clues on the Internet. I traced them to San Diego. After my blow up with Vanessa, I just got in the car and drove there. I found him and talked to him. He misses us. Since then, I have been in contact with him. I asked him about you two going to San Diego, and he said he would help you guys out." I felt I must add some cautions, "Mom cannot know about dad. Their break-up was very painful to dad."

"What happened?" asked Tim.

"I will leave that for dad to explain." I said.

Randy jumped in. "We have to go there. We have to see him. Let's plan a trip to San Diego and a school tour. Winter break in coming in three weeks; we can go then."

Mom accepted Randy and Tim's idea of San Diego State. But, I think she saw this as the next step towards the disintegration of her family. I tried to be supportive, and that helped some. Another casualty was Michael. I was convinced that he would not do well with Randy and Tim gone. I was sure that he was doing more drugs. I kept watch on his schoolwork. His grades and attendance were both slipping.

The excitement around the house was contagious. Randy and Tim were planning their road trip to see the school. Secretly, they were just as excited about seeing dad. Through our emails, I could tell that dad was excited too. We discussed what he would tell them, and he had not come to any kind of decision. Mom was concerned about the boys and offered all her support as well.

Early Saturday morning, we packed up mom's car and gave them hugs. "Be safe boys," Mom said, and she turned to go back into the house. Michael and I gave them a hug, and I said, "Be careful. The road ahead has many unknowns, bumps, and blind curves. Go slow." They both got my meanings. With that they drove off.

They called to check in every couple of hours. From the calls, we tracked their progress. I estimated that they would reach San Diego at about midnight. A twelve-thirty, they called to say they had arrived. They were checking in and would call in the late morning. Mom and I wished them a good night. What I knew that mom didn't, was that they were spending the trip at dad's house. The message that I got was that it was going to be a long night for my brothers.

They sounded excited and happy through the next three days. San Diego was a great city, and the school was the tops. They said that they had met someone who could help with their applications. I never got the chance to speak to them privately, so was unsure what dad had told them. Thursday they were on their way home, and they pulled in Friday at five. We all met them at the driveway. We could see the smiles on their faces before they stopped the car. They both jumped out of the car and ran straight to me. I could not breathe because of the hug, they both applied. Afterwards they went to Michael, then mom. I noticed her hugs were not as intense. I think I knew what had been discussed.

Pizza was ordered, and we all gathered around the table to discuss the trip. San Diego was cool. The weather was always great, and their applications were already in their systems. They were sure that financial aid and scholarships would be able to cover the costs. After the conversations slowed down, mom excused herself to her room, as usual. Michael drifted off somewhere too. This allowed Randy, Tim and I some privacy. They related their greetings with dad. He was so happy to see Randy and Tim, and the feeling was mutual. Randy talked about what dad had told him about the breakup. He told them everything. On the way home, they both decided to let it lie and not destroy mom any more than she already was. They both figured that they would move there as soon as school was over in June.

In the following months, Randy and Tim prepared for their move. They completed their school year with good grades, in the case of Randy, and an MVP award for Tim. In the excitement, they did not notice Michael's withdrawal or mom's. I was sure that Michael had progressed to harder drugs. I attempted an intervention, but he blew up at me. I talked to mom about him. She was aware and had attempted to help a couple of times herself. Michael's problems and Randy and Tim's leaving were taking its toll on mom too. She did not look very good. She was looking like she had lost weight, and her hair was very dull and lifeless.

Just after Christmas, Michael disappeared for three days. When the police found him, he was stoned in a drug house. Mom and I got him into a rehab center near home. He was mandated to stay for two weeks in an attempt to clean up. He fought it all the way. His anger at mom became very evident during one of the family sessions. He let loose on her. He blamed her on forcing dad away. Mom was brought to tears. Each attack by Michael shredded her a little more. I attempted to protect her and deflect some of the verbal attacks, but Michael continued on. He blamed her for driving Tim and Randy away. He blamed her for everything. Mom bravely took all the attacks and said, "Michael; you are right. I do deserve all the blame. I did this, but since he left I have attempted to make up for it. Michael, you can blame me, hate me, but please don't hate yourself. You need to let go of your self-destruction and try to get better. Do this for yourself and your brothers."

After that the session ended for the day. I almost had to carry mom out to the car. She was so drained. By now, the pain was etched on her face permanently.

Two days after Tim's last final exam, Randy and Tim were packed and ready to head to San Diego. After farewells, they were off. They arrived two days later and phoned to report that all was well. They were moving into a small apartment outside of the campus and were very excited. I was sure that they would be spending a lot of time at dad's house too. They had seven weeks to get acclimated, and figure things out before the semester started. I was scheduled to make a quick visit in August.

Mom appeared happy that they were doing well. She never expressed concerns about them leaving. I think she was genuinely happy for them to be growing up and be on their own.

I was excited about my trip to San Diego as well. I was looking forward to seeing Tim, Randy and dad. I took the first flight out in the morning, and all three were at the terminal to greet me. It was a very happy reunion. There were smiles all around. At lunch, the jokes and memories flew. It seemed that the past five years had been forgotten. It was just a dad, and three of his sons having a great lunch together.

I was planning on spending a week in San Diego, but on Thursday, I got a call from mom. Michael had overdosed. Could I come home immediately? I was on a plane home less than three hours later. Little did I know that dad was on a flight two hours after that.

I arrived at the hospital and went directly to the ICU. I found mom sitting beside Michael's bed. She was holding his hand and crying. When she saw me, she rushed into a hug. "Robert, I tried to get him to stop. I did." She cried.

"I know, mom." I said. "We have all tried. You go home and get some sleep. I will stay here with Michael." She didn't want to, but I forced the issue. Reluctantly, she left, but only after agreeing to relieve me at first light. It was not more than two hours later when dad walked into the hospital room. I was shocked.

"I have been away for too long. This is my fault. I need to try to fix this. But how?"

"Dad," I began. I thought about this during my flight home, and I think I may have found a possible solution. "We need to get Michael some professional help. And I think we need to keep him with his brothers. Can we find a rehab clinic in San Diego? You may be able to help with his anger while Randy and Tim can help in the other areas."

We discussed the concept and worked out the details. Dad could get a company jet to fly Michael to a clinic in San Diego. They would work out the addiction issues, and all four would attend family counseling. Hopefully, removed from mom, Michael could begin to heal.

Dad spent the night in the hospital room with Michael and me. He left before first light. He still could not envision seeing his wife. When mom arrived, I explained the idea of rehab in San Diego. I laid out the pros and cons of being with his brothers and the distance from us. Surprisingly, mom was in agreement. She knew of Michael's anger towards her and felt that the distance may help the scars heal. Michael's anger was weighing on mom too. She looked even worse. I would swear that she had lost more weight since I left for San Diego.

Behind the scenes, dad made all the arrangements. Monday morning, an ambulance would take Michael to the airfield. He and a nurse would get on the private jet, and it would take them to San Diego. They would be met by another ambulance and taken to the rehab facility. The part that was unknown to mom; once comfortable in the facility, the doctors would decide when to re-introduce Michael to his father. I thought it was a good plan and hoped that it would turn out all right.

It was Sunday evening when mom, and I had just left the hospital. We got home and found Aunt Shannon waiting. She had coffee brewing and three mugs ready to go. We sat at the table to talk about tomorrow and Michael's journey. Then mom hit me with, "Robert; you should go with Michael. You need to be there for him. You have been the father figure for the past five years, and he still needs you." I looked at Shannon and saw agreement in her eyes. I was ambushed.

I laid out all the reasons why I could not go, and she and Shannon shot all of them down. Mom explained that she could be ok home alone. She said that Shannon was nearby to help her if she needed anything. She outlined the plan to me. I was to stay in San Diego, maybe with Randy and Tim. I would have the power of attorney over Michael's medical care and would get Michael through his rehab. We would stay out there and get additional therapy for Michael. When and if he was strong enough, I was to determine if he should come home to Colorado. Mom and Shannon estimated that it might take up to three months for Michael to be healthy sufficiently even to consider a decision.

I didn't want to go, but they all but threw me on the plane in the morning. The private jet could accommodate another passenger, and I settled next to Michael. In the end, my presence helped Michael through the trip. Mom made a good call.