"MARVIN"

Of course you don't know who this is! This is my father, I love him and he loved me but our relationship wasn't always the best. Depending on who you talk to the story will be different that being said I won't spend time discussing how I got here. What I will say is I'm my mother's first and my father's only child. I always knew who my father was but I didn't get to spend much time with him until later in life. I wasn't allowed to be around him and his side of the family for many years. I spent from age 7-17 away from them. When my mother met her second husband slowly but surely I was pulled away from my father's side of the family and by the time I was seven and being removed from the home for child abuse I had no relationship with them. Prior to my ties being severed with him I would see my father on various occasions such as family outings, holidays, family reunions and I would be taken to see him in jail as well. While I was going through being pulled in and out of my mother's home my anger towards my father began to grow. Why? I felt like my father should have came and rescued me from all the abuse and when he didn't I was hurt, angry and felt unloved. One of the time I was removed I asked to go stay with my grandmother (paternal) and I wasn't allowed because the courts were told about my father and uncle's drug use so the courts deemed her house as an unsafe environment. As time went on I didn't see or speak to my father until I was a senior in high school and living in my mother's home again. I had reconnected with my grandmother and was preparing to graduate from high school. By the time my graduation day came the abuse was so bad I moved in with my grandmother which meant I was around my father regularly. When I moved in with my grandmother I couldn't even be in the room with my father for more than five minutes without us arguing. Our arguing got so bad that we ended up almost fighting. We didn't know how to communicate with each other, one of the reasons was I didn't know how to express to him how him not being there for me hurt me, how I felt he should have came and saved me, how he mad I was at him for allowing my mother to put me in the situation I was in and letting another man put their hands on me. He didn't know how to interact with me because he wasn't used to being a "dad" I was his only child, he wasn't around to help raise me, he didn't know how to deal with my hurts and pain. We spent our first 2-3 years back around each other arguing and fighting. Once we got through those first couple of years we began to build a relationship of love and understanding. I finally got to a point where I had to forgive him for not being there so we could move on. I'm not saying it was always easy but in the end it was definitely worth it. We had to sit down and go from the beginning, I had to get his side of the story which allowed us to heal together. My father was a life long heroin addict. After we spoke I had a better understanding of the choices he made after we had our heart to heart. He didn't know how to be a "dad" so we decided to build our friendship. I expressed to him that I wanted him to be a part of my life but it would have to be my way and he received that and we were able to move forward. I can say he was very supportive of everything, my father would be there the best way he could. When my daughter passed in 1995 my father spent a lot of time with me making sure I was ok, when my other three children were born he was active in their lives as much as he could be. My father had a very good heart and I really with that he could have been strong enough to kick the habit. When he was good he was great but when he was bad I couldn't deal. My father's life struggles was amazing to me because he really wanted to become better but when I reflect over his life and our family dynamics made it hard for a recovering addict. His parents were enablers, his brothers were fellow addicts, he stayed in the same circle, he would chose women that would allow him to do whatever he wanted but most of all once he had his brain surgery and recovered you couldn't tell this man he wasn't the same person. The more I would try and explain to him that he was sick he wasn't hearing it. After years and years of living in the world as I call it my father was diagnosed with cirrhosis, and hepatitis in 2011. With him being sick he wouldn't stay on his meds like he was supposed to, not following up with doctors caused his ailment progress faster than I believe it would have. My father ended up in the hospital January 29, 2012 because he fell and his cut got infected. While being treated for the infection his organs started shutting down. The hospital stopped treating the infection to get his organs back. Unfortunately, my father laid in the hospital for 10 days before I was even notified (family mess), but when he got a little worse I got the call. Mind you I talked to him during the time he was there and he never mentioned to me that he was in the hospital. Our relationship had gotten to the point that he wouldn't tell me things if he thought I would be worried or upset at him. So as soon as I got the information about him being in the hospital I called him and he sounded really good; I was on my way to a meeting so I told him I would be in to see him the next morning (Thursday). Thursday comes I get to the hospital and my father was so big I almost didn't ever recognize him. His spirits were up and he was laughing and joking like he always did, trying to play match maker like always. I had to step and address some issues. I had to get some things in order because I was his next of kin and wasn't informed that he was there plus he wasn't even in the hospital where his doctors were. Before I could get all the information together and make arrangements to have him moved he took a turn for the worse. Tuesday 7am in the morning on Valentine's Day I got a call from the doctor saying they gave him four pints of blood over the night and  his blood wasn't clotting so they were moving him to ICU and I needed to get to the hospital. I got to the hospital we got him moved down to the ICU, I met with the doctor who proceeded to tell me my options none of them good. I could either have him put on a ventilator when it was time or I could allow them to make him comfortable until he passed on his own. When it came time to make the decision after praying about it I decided to just make him comfortable and notified the family that he more than likely wouldn't make it through the night. My father was gone at 2:30pm and the only people that were there were he and I. God rest my father's soul and I will see him when I get there MUCH LOVE MARVIE MARV


Many Blessings & Much Love