Father Of Mine...

I got some very bad news today. My dad, who has been battling bone cancer for about two years, is in the hospital for the rest of his life. What he told us was that everything would be OK for about 5 more years, and then there would be newer treatments and he would remain stable. What he didn't tell us was that it was all pretty much made up and that his bone cancer had developed into white plasma leukemia. I am both saddened and angered by this this because, we were holding out until Alex got older to see his Grandpa, if I had known he was this sick, we all would have gone in October when I was last there. Now, we have to hope he recovers a bit for when we arrive in January. I never got to meet my Grandfather on my dad's side because he died of Leukemia in 1956 before there was a cure. I don't want that to happen to Alex. Gabi's dad died young and so both of Alex's natural grandfathers will not be around to see him grow up. Luckily Omi Karin married Burt and I can't think of a nicer grandpa role model than him. So we got lucky there.

Now, back to my dad...we have a rather strange relationship. When I was a kid, my dad did all of the fun things with me. When my mom would throw me into my room for periods way too long, my dad would let me out when she disappeared and warn me when she was coming back. When my mom worked in the Bronx on weekends in the late 60's and early 70's, my dad would take us all out (Suzy Gross, the neighbor and my brother) for McDonalds, Carrolls or Pizza on Friday. He would allow me to stay up late to attempt to watch "The Night Stalker" or "Don Kirshners Rock Concert" which inevitibly I would fall asleep before. My dad was also a musician, and when I took up the trombone, he was very happy. He loved the Dixieland Jazz and here I was taking up a Dixieland Jazz instrument. When I showed an aptitude for it...it really was on...and unfortunately, lessons at home, lessons at school, lessons with Guy Lombardo's first trombonist, marching band, regular band and Cronomer Valley band all took it's toll on me and I bent the thing over my knee at age 15 and it was all over. I knew it broke his heart and I still feel bad, but I don't regret doing it. It just got to be too much.

My parents divorced in 1976. It was a terrible time for us. I understand now why it happened, but at the time I was 12, what did I know? I went to live with my dad because my mom was very difficult to deal with at that time. Becuse of some of his issues, I was allowed to run free and my life became a downward spiral. A formerly good student and athlete in junior high and freshman year in high school, I had become a hard partying, drug taking, thief and liar by my sophmore year. No more teams, no more good friends, just me, dope and alcohol. I did not like what I had become and by the mid point of my junior year, I decided to leave my dad and go live with mom. Now, if you refer back to my entry about Tony Schembri, you will know that moving did not solve all of my problems. It was a step in the right direction, but not a solution. Eventually Tony guided me through the tough times and by the time I was a senior, I was back on the swim team, grades were back in the 90's (-A to A for you letter people)

This bad time created a strained relationship with my dad and I. He needed to clean himself up before we could ever mend our relationship. Luckily, during my second year in the service, he got the help he needed and I got my old dad back. He remarried and everything has been great for him. We have been working things out ever since.

Now this...I knew it was inevitable, but, I wish he had told us the truth. I am very sad and know the next time I see him it will be to say goodbye. We had a great run, but, I am not ready for it to end.