January 14, 2000
OK, would the person from Zanesville OH who viewed 38 pages on my site last night please for God's sake email me? You're freaking me out.
Speaking of Zanesville, I thought we'd take a trip into the Way-Back Machine for this particular entry. I know I mentioned my dad in one of the Christmas entries, but I don't think I ever talked too much about him. So, here's some background for future dad references.
First of all, my mom and dad divorced when I was like, 8 months old or something. I have no memories whatsoever of them together as a couple. From what they both tell me, this is probably a good thing. My parents don't have what you might call "compatible" personalities. They sort of tend to want to kill each other. A lot. So, they divorced when I was too little to remember it.
For most of my childhood (like when I was a REALLY little kid) I had visitation with him on Sundays. I'd go out to the farm -- he lives on the farm that my grandfather and my great-grandfather worked, although he doesn't work the farm, he just lives there, with my grandfather -- and watch TV or play computer games, once they got a computer. I also played outside a lot with my cousins that lived in the next house over. I didn't really have a lot to do with my dad. Sometimes he'd take me into the mall or we'd go to a movie or something, but for the most part he was just a distant figure that I was not particularly comfortable being around.
Then again, he wasn't particularly comfortable being around me, either. I don't think my dad likes small children very much, although he did try his best with me.
Remember I said in the Christmas entry that my dad has mellowed out over the years? Well, he totally has. When I was little he used to freak out on me all the time. Not like, physical abuse or anything like that, just freaking out. He used to get into really black, horrible moods, and take it out on the people around him. Like me. A few examples:
One time I came in from playing and he asked me if my cousin ever used swear words. Well, my cousin didn't swear around me but I didn't figure that I could speak for ALL the time, so I told my dad "Well, he never swears around me but I don't know, he might other times". That was the most logical, truthful answer that I could come up with (I had a great future as a politician or a lawyer, no?). My dad got really pissed off and asked me what that was supposed to mean, and did he use swear words or not, etc. etc., and I just wound up getting really upset.
Then this other time, my mom must have had her lawyer send his lawyer some letter which pissed him off, and when I went out for my weekend visitation, he got all mad and read part of the letter to me and asked me if I knew why my mom would do something like this. Also, part of the letter said that he was required to bring me to church on Sundays, and he took the opportunity to tell me that religion was a sickness and that my grandparents were infected with it. Well, OK, I went to Catholic school when I was a really little kid, and even when I transferred to public school I still believed in God, and wanted to be a good Catholic, and went to Sunday school. Also, I loved my grandparents very very much, and to hear him say something like that about them was upsetting and hurtful.
The thing is, my dad just didn't know how to act around me or how to treat me. He wanted to treat me as an adult, and sure, I was smarter than most kids around me, but I still wasn't an adult. I guess maybe that just confused him. Anyway.
My dad also did really nice things for me. Like, this one time he took me to the Columbus Zoo, and he got me computer games sometimes, and he paid for me to get a REALLY nice flute when I was in high school. Stuff like that. There was a lot of stuff like that, along with the bad stuff.
When I got into high school, things between us cleared up a little, I think mostly because he was relieved to be able to talk to me on a more-or-less adult level. He got me a used car when I was 16 and taught me how to drive it, he took me on a trip to Norfolk, VA on the spur of the moment one summer, and things, I thought, were better. Granted, I was still terrified of asking him for anything. He'd complained a few times that the only time I ever called him or came to visit was when I wanted something. So, I was afraid to ask him for anything because I thought he'd interpret that as me only coming around to ask him for stuff. He ALSO told me all the time to never be afraid to ask him for anything, because he wanted to provide for me. It was sort of a mixed message.
Actually, I guess I was terrified of him on several levels. Like, this one morning when I was driving to school, the muffler fell off my car. It was dragging, so we had to cut it off before I went home. I was so scared to call my dad and tell him that the muffler fell off. I had to work up my nerve four or five times, and I kept doing that thing where you pick up the phone and dial a few numbers and then hang it up really quick. I just knew he was going to be all pissed off at me and angry and he'd yell. Mom kept telling me that it wasn't my fault that the muffler fell off and that he wouldn't be mad, but I didn't believe her.
Anyway, I finally called him to tell him, and there was this big silence on the other end of the phone, and finally he heaved this huge sigh and told me to bring the car out so he could look at it.
In the meantime, I'd taken the car to Midas because they did free estimates on muffler work, and I figured that it wouldn't hurt to get a free estimate so that my dad would have some extra info to work with. I really tried hard to take care of that car, so I thought I was doing a responsible thing.
When I showed him the estimate from Midas, he got really mad and asked me why I'd taken it to Midas instead of asking him, and how Midas was going to lie to me and tell me that I needed a bunch of work I didn't really need, and how I never should have taken it to them because they were just a bunch of price gougers. And, as usual, I got really upset. Over a stupid muffler.
I forget what caused the final huge blow-up between us. I think it might have been when he said he didn't think he could help pay for my college education.
Just as some background information, all through my childhood my dad had said that price shouldn't be a consideration when I was looking at colleges. He said that I should go wherever I wanted to, and that he would help pay for it, and that I wouldn't have to worry. He would help pay for it. I was not to worry about it.
I believed him. So then when it came time for me to go off to Northwestern, aka "one of the most expensive private schools in the nation", he said that he didn't know if he could help out. I think it was at that time that I quit talking to him, although I'm not positive. It probably wasn't the most mature thing for me to do, and you know, I can't even remember if that was why. I just remember getting really mad at him about something, and fed up with constantly being afraid to tell him anything, and I just quit going out there or calling.
I still had the car he got for me. I was expecting to give it back to him when I went to college. Except that he had a new girlfriend and she wanted a car, and he saw no reason why she shouldn't drive mine. So one night when I was working at my aunt's restaurant, he drove up with her, used his spare key to get into my car, and he drove it home. Without coming in and telling me. He called my mom at home and told her that she'd have to go pick me up at work because he had my car. So mom called me, and I told the floor manager that I was having a family emergency, and Mom came and picked me up.
We went out to the farm later on to get all my stuff from my car -- I mean, his car -- and they'd bagged it up into two huge garbage bags (the car WAS a huge mess, because I was basically a big slob). Also, me and my dad sort of had a scene where we were both yelling at each other, and it was really horrible. It was also a milestone, because it was the first time I'd ever got up the nerve to say ANYTHING back to him, at all. But that was not the way I wanted to do it. I was not proud of myself at that moment.
So then I REALLY wasn't speaking to him. He didn't go to my high school graduation, which really hurt my feelings, even though I was still mad at him.
It was sometime that summer before I went to college that I finally called him again and we started to patch things up. After that, our relationship WAS a lot better, although still not fantastic.
Mom and me managed to pay for college. Northwestern gave me a large financial-need grant, and we paid for the rest with loans. Well, mostly loans. The loans only covered most of tuition. They didn't cover books, food, and stuff like that. I lived on a shoestring for four years, because I could never manage to get ahead. My dinner choices on many nights were between a cup of ramen noodles, a couple tacos from Taco Bell (that was splurging), or frozen pierogi and a baked potato.
But, again, my dad and I were getting along again. He got me a computer when I asked for one, without even blinking. I was, again, terrified to ask him because I thought he'd interpret it as meaning "Jan only talks to me when she wants something". As it turns out, I was justified, because I heard later that when my car was going up the road, he was at the neighbor's house and he said to her, "Well, looks like Jan wants something again". Which really hurt my feelings, again.
He didn't go to my college graduation either, although this time it wasn't because we weren't speaking to each other, it was because he got too busy with work, or something. I don't know. I'm just really glad that I have a real job now, because finally my relationship with my dad can be based on something besides money. I went out there for Christmas and we talked for awhile and that was really nice.
So, that's my history of how things have gone between me and my dad. Phew.
And dammit, if you're from Zanesville and you're reading this, you seriously need to email me. Right now.
THE FORUM: Tell me your dad stories.