So I've been giving this a little bit of thought, and I would really like to hear the opinions of you all here in the Clubhouse.
A while back, when I was somehwere around 10 years old (my memory of my life at that point and anywhere around is very sporatic), my parents broke the news to myself and my brother that they were going to be getting a divorce. We were old enough at the time to make our own choices on where we wanted to live, and they wanted to honor that. For a while, of course, I would really encourage them on going out and spending time together to help the relationship, but they just shook their heads at me every time. I even went as far as to threaten to run away from home unless they got back together.
They were both living in our house together still, up in Marshall, Michigan, but my mom usually slept either in the computer chair in the dining room, or on our recliner in the living room. I never thought it was strange before they told us about the divorce, but when they did inform us, it made a lot of sense.
Anyway, my brother and I decided to stay where we were, with our dad. My mom had met someone on the internet and was going to move down here and live with him (in South Florida). My dad met someone online as well, and would eventually be living with her, in Ohio, but not until she got a divorce and got that straightened out. .... Interesting situation, to say the least.
My dad was married before he married my mother, to a woman he had two kids with (a son and a daughter). They're 5 years and 8 years, respectively, older than myself. One day he just went to go "pick up the pizza for dinner" and left them, and never went back.
And now, he's married to another woman who had two children with her husband (a son and a daughter... both younger than I... not sure what ages exactly), and has had a child with her (Nor am I aware of how old she would be right now... maybe 3 or 4...).
So, we lived in the same house with our father for quite some time, not sure how long (it's bad how sporatic my memory is from back then), but he was soon going to be moving down to Ohio to live with his future-wife. He would always take us to call our mom on weekends, to a local gas station, and during the first summer we had living with him, we were to fly down here to South Florida and visit my mother and our new step-father (nope... we weren't at the wedding...). So we did that, and I have no idea how that was. We flew back at the end of summer to go back to school, and he kept taking us to the gas station on weekends to call our mom, and during Christmas time she sent a humongous box of presents up. Hehe
So... the following summer, we of course flew back down here to South Florida, only this time, on the way back to the airport to fly back to Michigan, I told my mom that I did not want to leave. It was very sunny, and tropical, and I figured I could always make new friends, because I was in 6th grade and I was cool. I had to convince my brother a little bit on the car ride, but my mom lit up like nothing I've ever seen before, and turned right around and when we got home, we waited a few hours, until the flight would have landed in Michigan, and called our father. I honestly don't remember if he had gone home when he realized we weren't there, or if he had a cell phone, or anything....
But, she told him that we decided we wanted to stay, and I remember him starting to argue with my mom that she had somehow convinced us to stay and that he was a bad person and a lot of bullshit.
But, we stayed, and we were able to call our dad directly from their house (yay for long distance!). I also remember, every time, being on the phone with him after my brother, he would always vent to me about how disappointed he was in us, and how our mom deceived us... he really picked it to me, and not my brother, and I would sit and take it for a few weeks. One day, I just started to cry, because he was being a real hardass about what a bitch mom was, my brother grabbed the phone, screamed at him to never talk to us again, never see us again, and that he was [some rather interesting words]....
We haven't talked to him since, except once or twice in e-mail (which were vague and monotone at best).
It has now been ... wow, 13 years. Time flies. I never thought it'd been that long.
And it's not that I miss him. It's not that I want to get to know him. It's nothing. I've thought a few times on writing him a letter, and telling him about my life, but I have never actually done it. Not sure if I really want to or not. I might one day regret not having him in my life, but I might not.
So, that's the really shortened version of course, but I would really appreciate some thoughts or comments on any of it. *shrugs* I'm open to every idea.
A while back, when I was somehwere around 10 years old (my memory of my life at that point and anywhere around is very sporatic), my parents broke the news to myself and my brother that they were going to be getting a divorce. We were old enough at the time to make our own choices on where we wanted to live, and they wanted to honor that. For a while, of course, I would really encourage them on going out and spending time together to help the relationship, but they just shook their heads at me every time. I even went as far as to threaten to run away from home unless they got back together.
They were both living in our house together still, up in Marshall, Michigan, but my mom usually slept either in the computer chair in the dining room, or on our recliner in the living room. I never thought it was strange before they told us about the divorce, but when they did inform us, it made a lot of sense.Anyway, my brother and I decided to stay where we were, with our dad. My mom had met someone on the internet and was going to move down here and live with him (in South Florida). My dad met someone online as well, and would eventually be living with her, in Ohio, but not until she got a divorce and got that straightened out. .... Interesting situation, to say the least.
My dad was married before he married my mother, to a woman he had two kids with (a son and a daughter). They're 5 years and 8 years, respectively, older than myself. One day he just went to go "pick up the pizza for dinner" and left them, and never went back.
And now, he's married to another woman who had two children with her husband (a son and a daughter... both younger than I... not sure what ages exactly), and has had a child with her (Nor am I aware of how old she would be right now... maybe 3 or 4...).
So, we lived in the same house with our father for quite some time, not sure how long (it's bad how sporatic my memory is from back then), but he was soon going to be moving down to Ohio to live with his future-wife. He would always take us to call our mom on weekends, to a local gas station, and during the first summer we had living with him, we were to fly down here to South Florida and visit my mother and our new step-father (nope... we weren't at the wedding...). So we did that, and I have no idea how that was. We flew back at the end of summer to go back to school, and he kept taking us to the gas station on weekends to call our mom, and during Christmas time she sent a humongous box of presents up. Hehe
So... the following summer, we of course flew back down here to South Florida, only this time, on the way back to the airport to fly back to Michigan, I told my mom that I did not want to leave. It was very sunny, and tropical, and I figured I could always make new friends, because I was in 6th grade and I was cool. I had to convince my brother a little bit on the car ride, but my mom lit up like nothing I've ever seen before, and turned right around and when we got home, we waited a few hours, until the flight would have landed in Michigan, and called our father. I honestly don't remember if he had gone home when he realized we weren't there, or if he had a cell phone, or anything....
But, she told him that we decided we wanted to stay, and I remember him starting to argue with my mom that she had somehow convinced us to stay and that he was a bad person and a lot of bullshit.
But, we stayed, and we were able to call our dad directly from their house (yay for long distance!). I also remember, every time, being on the phone with him after my brother, he would always vent to me about how disappointed he was in us, and how our mom deceived us... he really picked it to me, and not my brother, and I would sit and take it for a few weeks. One day, I just started to cry, because he was being a real hardass about what a bitch mom was, my brother grabbed the phone, screamed at him to never talk to us again, never see us again, and that he was [some rather interesting words]....
We haven't talked to him since, except once or twice in e-mail (which were vague and monotone at best).
It has now been ... wow, 13 years. Time flies. I never thought it'd been that long.
And it's not that I miss him. It's not that I want to get to know him. It's nothing. I've thought a few times on writing him a letter, and telling him about my life, but I have never actually done it. Not sure if I really want to or not. I might one day regret not having him in my life, but I might not.
So, that's the really shortened version of course, but I would really appreciate some thoughts or comments on any of it. *shrugs* I'm open to every idea.
