Last week the phone rang. It was late, around 1:30 AM, which is not the typical time I usually receive calls. I had a bad feeling about it. My instinct was to not pick up the phone...but I did. I was greeted by a drunken woman.
Me: Hello?
Long silence.
Me: Who's this?
Drunken Woman: Who's this? Who's this?
Me: What do you want?
Drunken Woman: Tell Rick....that his father is dead......
She hung up. I was disturbed but shook it off and went to bed.
Fast forward to this past weekend, I get a call from my fathers brother saying he needs to talk to me and leaves me his number. I've worked hard to put distance between this side of my family and yours truly. I didn't want to let this door swing open again because what's on the other side isn't worth letting in. But what about that late night call from the week before? Something was up. I called him back.
"Your father is dead. He passed away 2 years ago from colon cancer. I'm also dying of liver cancer. I don't know how much time I have left." He declared. I told him that I was sorry to hear that but this particular individual (my fathers brother) excels at embellishment and manipulation. Even if he was sick, there's a hook, a twist, a plan buried underneath all the shocking news. I let the conversation continue for curiosities sake. He told me how relived he was that I was doing well, I didn't buy it. He told me that he had always been thinking about me, didn't buy that either. He told me that my father left nothing behind for me except his bible, I didn't want it. What the hell was this really all about?
My Father's Brother: Your father was involved in a subway accident and got hit by a car. There was a lawsuit and the subway one got settled. He got money and I begged him to keep a little bit so he could be buried. I mean...I couldn't handle all those funeral arrangements, it was just to emotional for me.
Me: Right.
My Father's Brother: I never cried for anyone that died, not even my friends that were killed when I was in Vietnam but this one really got to me. I cried like I never cried before.
Me: Really?
My Father's Brother: I just couldn't get involved so, you know I left it all up to your uncle. He knows all about the case. The one with your father getting hit by the car. It's not settled yet but there's money.
Me: These things can take years...yes.
Yes, the picture was becoming clear. My biological father, part con man, part Howard Hughes and part tortured musician might have actually done something for me after all these years of doing nothing. While money couldn't replace the true relationship that a father and son should have, it's better than nothing. But there was still that issue about getting in touch with my uncle who was overseeing the settlement that seemed a bit off. I have never had a quarrel with him, he's always been a noble enough man. But the dying "gentleman" that I was talking to at the moment.....is this an agenda? Is he covering his tracks? What's the con? The impact of my fathers death is not something that hit me hard, we weren't close and I never really liked him. Rather it would be maneuvering the dangerous waters of severed family ties that could be most lethal.
This is true story about betrayal, dysfunction, rejection, anger, manipulation and reuniting. I will write about it here, on this blog, in full detail for your reading enjoyment. You will have the chance to catch a glimpse of people you thought only existed in fiction and then realise that my reality is stranger than fiction and perhaps yours is too. You will read about it all here........
But not tonight
Tonight I will let all of this news settle and digest. Tonight I will also distract myself with visions of fun and frolic with beautiful women and expensive wine. Tonight I will rest because tomorrow I may not have the luxury of doing so.
Up next on U N L O A D E D, the late farewell part II
