My Hero Dad and Unrecognizable Stranger

To live with a dream and a worse nightmare is my story with my dad.

Explaining my life with my dad is like trying to tell you a story of two different humans that impacted my life. 

There was my dad my perfect hero and my dad the imperfect stranger. 

Growing up my dad literally was everything I wanted to be and more.  He inspired me to be a better daughter, sister, friend and overall person. From passing down his love for music and writing to teaching me what I know about serving others with love and passion. Specifically when cooking; our family was very spoiled with really good food since he also was a chef. My dad did it all and strived to do it all with excellence. He also had very strong morals and values and took his time to teach me how to make wise decisions in everyday life. Almost daily he'd have a one on one with me about the meaning of life. It was normal for me to have a dad that was very intentional about all he did with his children everyday.

But like I said there is another side to this shiny coin I cherished so much. The part that was tainted and even scary at times.

The Imperfect Stranger

As a child he was very hard on us children. So his strengths of doing things with excellence overflowed into us in not the best way. He didn’t accept anything less than perfect. So it came with a price when you didn’t live up to his expectations. You can be having the time of your life with your dad making pancakes and dancing salsa in the kitchen one moment. The next day he may find out you messed up in school or was a little too “free” about how you felt or who you were and he’d get very angry. To the point of severely physically discipling us for the smallest things that he didn’t agree with. He would psychologically manipulate us to do or be what he wanted us to be.

So it was confusing to know when we were truly loved or just abused. He was so involved mentally, emotionally and even spiritually in our life that he had us wrapped around his finger. But if he felt he didn't for just a moment, you'd get treated like his worse enemy. Beaten, isolated, and psychologically abused. He'd take back everything he gave and won't give it back until you showed you deserved it. So once things settled and you learned your lesson it was all back to "normal." 

So with that said, trying to write and remember how he impacted my life as a dad can be confusing with pain and beauty... A Hero dad and an unrecognizable stranger. 

Finally, the confusion kind of ceased when my high moral, creative, full of life dad chose a side of that coin I mentioned before. When he no longer could control or hide the imperfect side of him from others he turned to drugs. Ever since then he never was there for us as a present dad again. 

He tried his hardest to hold on to us and be a good father but the pain that had him be hard on us at times, was actually the hardest on him. Till this day, over 15 years later; he has not been able to come back home and make us laugh till our ribs ached. I’ve written so many stories and songs like he use to that I have not yet been able to share with the one that inspired it all. But I’m so grateful that God gave me the memories of his good efforts to stay with me. 

There is no perfect father or human for that matter.

Even when he was out of our lives I can recall a time he came back when he was clean for little a while. My mom was not as affectionate as my dad so though he left us I was very happy to see him back. There was a night that I was suffering from very painful cramps I would always get as a teenager. He found me in a dark room crying trying not to be a burden to anyone and waiting for it to pass. He asked me to come out and head to the bathroom; to my surprise my hero dad that I remember made a small come back when I saw he had already drew me a bath and made me something special to eat after. Of course it definitely does not excuse the pain he caused us before or after that day.

Thankfully I’ve learned to forgive him and let go of the pain even if he doesn't deserve it. Now that I’m a mother, I see that it’s not that easy to be everything for our children especially when we are still broken ourselves. You only can give what you have. 

Healed people heal other people. So hurt people only know to give hurt, intentional or not. 

My father went as far as he could to love us till his hurt outweighed the love. 

Thank you dad for giving the little bit of love you had in you to us when you could. I love and forgive you and learned from both the pain and the beauty. 

Deborah Liza