Day 13 of My 40 Day Fast: I've Been Watching My Dad Struggle for Over 20 Years

At some point during this fast I became repulsed by water. I finally realized I was drinking too much. You can read why I’m doing a 40 day fast by clicking the story below.

My father is an immigrant. After settling into this country he spent his time living the bachelor life and working odd jobs to keep afloat. It wasn’t until he married my mom and had kids that he thought seriously about his finances. He got a job as an insurance agent, but it wasn’t stable as his income was largely based on commission. He disliked haggling people to make a pay cheque. He sought janitorial work, and spent nights cleaning offices and a restaurant. The restaurant was part of a chain of buffet restaurants that was popular in our area in the 80s and 90s called Uncle Willy’s Buffet.

My dad developed a relationship with the owner of the chain, Willy, and earned himself a contract to manage the cleaning of all of his restaurants. There were around 13 in total in the suburbs and further out. My dad started a janitorial business and employed people to clean the restaurants, but he always cleaned the restaurant where he started. He was able to buy a big house, and moved us from the housing co-op. I would live in this new house from first grade to high school graduation. The house had a 70s vibe, so my parents updated it with renovations.

My dad bought a cargo van and outfitted it with a carpet cleaning machine. He cleaned the carpets of homes during the day and the restaurant at night. Twice a week he cleaned an office. Willy also had my dad clean his mansion once a month.

My dad is a pandit (Hindu priest), so he also performed weddings, funerals, and prayer ceremonies. Being the only driver in the house meant he had to cart us kids around. He somehow found time to make the most out of our summer vacations. We’d go on road trips or take day trips to water parks, theme parks, and fairs, or even the library and Blockbuster.

Still, my dad was financially stressed. Owning a business is difficult. After paying the expenses that a running a business incurs, some months didn’t see a profit. As a child I would watch him sit at his desk wearily rubbing his eyes. We’d go through phases when we would have to penny pinch. Even as a child I didn’t like asking for money because I knew how burdened he was. My sister and I would help him clean the restaurant on weekends. If we got there early enough we’d get free soft serve ice cream and jello.

He repeatedly asked my mother to get a job and help with the bills, but she wouldn’t. She had never worked, and as a result was clueless about financial matters.

I got a job when I turned 15 years old mainly because I didn’t want to be another expense for my dad. From time to time he would have to ask me for money. Unfortunately for my dad, this continues to this day. He wasn’t able to pay me back then, but he always makes sure to pay me back now when he can.

Willy’s restaurants went out of business. One by one his restaurants closed down until only one remained. The one my dad cleaned. He was forced to find other work. For awhile he was cleaning four restaurants in one night. We’d help him on weekends, and my mom would go with him. Sometimes he’d have to go alone and it amazed me that he was able to get it all done in one night. He’d return home at 5 a.m. and most days didn't have time to sleep because he’d have carpet cleaning jobs or pandit services lined up.

During those days when we’d sit in the van with him we’d have to watch for when he’d nod off at the wheel, and then we’d reach over to shake him and yell ‘wake up!’.

Eventually he lost those other jobs to bigger janitorial companies willing to do the work for less money. The inevitable came along and the last Uncle Willy’s left standing closed down. Someone would buy it later and open it again. It's still open to this day.

After I graduated high school we had to sell our house. For years we moved around from one cramped space to another. My dad continued to clean restaurants at night. At some point he got a job cleaning a homeless shelter. I hated that he worked there. It was smelly and filthy. Drug afflicted people roamed the halls and pissed on the walls. On the other hand, my dad absolutely loved it. He was working during the day for the first time in years, even though for the first while he was there he was still cleaning a restaurant at night. Most restaurants no longer hire janitors anymore. The job of cleaning has been handed to restaurant staff.

After 10 years of working at the shelter he was finally able to do what he’d been working towards since we had lost our house: buy another house. He bought a big beautiful house that gave our family of five the space we all needed. Not even a year passed when my dad got laid off from the shelter. They cut costs and decided to give the responsibility of cleaning to the staff. It took awhile to sell the house and what was once a sanctuary became a colossal financial burden. My dad could only make the hefty mortgage payments for a few months, and so I took over. The house eventually sold and my dad paid me back with the money from the sale.

From there we moved to an old house that’s falling apart at its seams. Pipes leak. The downstairs floods during heavy rainfall, and I live in a rainy city. For years it was overrun with rodents, but we managed to, thankfully, fix that problem. Despite its shortcomings, its become home.

In previous posts I tell the story of my brother’s mental health decline. His mental health journey has been a very long road, and he only seems to sink further into his madness. Today he looks and behaves like a demon is vicariously living through him satisfying all its urges. He smokes 10 grams of marijuana a day. He drinks a bag of coffee a day. He gorges on food and at least one meal a day has to be takeout. He eats enough meat in one day to feed a small family. He used to be a slim guy and now weighs around 300 pounds. My dad cooks all his meals. His paranoia causes him to become wary of opened containers of condiments and insists new ones be bought. The electronics in his room will start ‘talking’ to him, so he’ll throw them out and need new ones.

My dad is unable to keep money in his wallet. It just flows out to my brother.

You can read about him by clicking the story below.

I used to think my dad had the worst luck and that was just his lot in life. I have always wondered why life has been so hard on such a hard-working man. Now that I’ve been on my spiritual journey for awhile I can’t help wonder if there is something dark at play. After everything I’ve been through, it’s not far-fetched.