Fuck this Painful Part; I’d Rather be a Video Hoe
The video hoe-ness is pretty irrelevant actually... I just happen to be finding solace in lots of hip hop and the videos which always include scan-dally clad women.. Their lives seem pretty fun and I'd like to try it out... So that's my nod toward my title. In case it deserved one (probably not).
The painful part.... yeah. There's quite a bit tied up into it actually. I was hoping 27 was going to be the way my mother described it to me. Then again, most things have not panned out the way that women described them to me; so at this point I am on the verge of childish expectations... Not my style. Maybe expectations in general are something worth avoiding.
Enough pussy footing around. The reason I am writing and am in pain is because of the way I am handling the slow, untimely, agonizing death of my extremely unconventional father. He taught me everything I know. The problem with that, is my painful awareness of how little I know in comparison with what I could know. I just ASSUMED I HAD TIME. He's always warned me about that.
You get bitter though, as a 10 year old female who cleans up after her alcoholic father when he goes on and on about the elusive deception of time. And a female's bitterness is inevitably her worst enemy... Therefore, I (as my sweet father would so lovingly state it,) "bit myself in the ass" by ignoring his warnings.
Now I scramble around during times when I perceive him to be coherent enough to give me something decent. Whether it's for the Will he expects me to compose (I'm a student of Psychology... not law... but that's another matter, and that I think horrifies him), or for a story to pass on to one of my beloved nephews or niece... I want all of the good, and to organize the negative neatly and properly... like the daughter of a good man would.
Like the daughter of a good man would. Chew that up and digest it. That's my reality. That's my goal. I just want to do what she would. I mean, daughter of a Harvard Alumni... Who would have dutifully followed his footsteps without question if certain complications (addiction, debt, race, etc.) hadn't threatened his carefully constructed reputation.
I, at birth, was everything that contradicted his legacy. White, freckled, red headed, light eyes, with an intelligence to match (if not challenge) his. I was not what he had hoped for or needed. The one after me was a boy who did terribly at school and excelled at art and baseball. My youngest sibling, she looked the part, dark and round; but her academics were not what he had in mind. So at about 11 years old I went from being his biggest mistake to his only hope. I did not understand how any of these things worked... especially not the human ego. I stopped having rules and this confused me because they kind of mandated the way I balanced my academics and my nerdy social time which was theater and music and art.
Within 3 years.... Lots had happened. Add 15 more... I'm taking care of him just like always... but this time ushering him into death. without a single golden nugget from his supposed vast source of royalties. I'm not angry, I'm not sad, or feeling shorted. I just wonder if had been healthy what he would have taught me.
Would he have wanted me to forgive him as many times as I have? Would he continue to treat me like someone who made a mistake but made amends? Would he have given me more knowledge or support?
I hope not. I hope if anything that man would have given me tougher more distant love. Showing me his sadness and anger when nobody could handle him. That's what I needed. Because him and my mother made another addict when they made me.. and the greatest kindness my father bestowed on me was letting me be without while piling emotional wreckage all over me everytime we interacted. It gave me a rea idea of what addict life could be.
I love that man to the end of this world. Anything he needs now or ever, is done as far as I am concerned. Can I say I am a positive product of all this?? no. I'm not.
but i'm thinking and trying to figure out how to be.