.
I'd like to say I get it from my mother but sometimes, if not for a remarkable resemblance and an uncanny way of constantly saying the same thing at exactly the same time, I'd swear I was adopted. That's not entirely true. I see a lot of me in her...and a little of her in me too...I guess. I know there were times when I could not understand why she just couldn't trust me to be the the responsible, careful young adult that I was supposed to be. I know now it was not because she was trying to "keep me down." She just knew from experience that in the heat of a moment in a parked car, that "responsible", careful young adult turns into an easily excited, horny teenager so hungry for knowlegde, however forbidden it might be, that dirty diapers and foodstamps are the farthest thing from your mind, or that icy roads do not discriminate based on age or experience of the driver. I also know that there were times when she has cried; sometimes because of me but often for me. For all the chances I didn't take to make our relationship stronger, I apologize. I will not take those opportunities for granted in the future.
Maybe my father passed along this knack of finding oneself in confusing and chaotic situations, as well as a predisposition for cancer and a grand total of around three thousand bucks, handed out over a period of thirteen years of awkward birthday hugs and christmas gift certificates. I wish I knew. There are only a handful of times that I spent actual quality time with him, none lasting more than half a day of a three day stay at my granparents house or the occasional day trip to an amusement park or the one and only time he ever took me to the movies. I was eleven and the movie was Pet Sematary and it scared the shit out of me but I loved every minute of it. Thinking back now, it could have been any movie. I am absolutely positive that my flair for attracting impossible relationships comes directly from him. He was married once, an occasion for which I never got an invite, but it only lasted a few years. There were quite a few ex-girlfriends at his funeral, some the mothers of my half-siblings (one of whom I've never met, but would like to), and some who weeped so profoundly that it made their husbands uncomfortable. I'm sure he was a good man at heart and I know his heart touched many a life, I only wish one of those lives could have been mine. For having never heard you say you loved me, I am sorry.
I can only hope that all my flaws, inherited and self constructed, stand to serve a purpose. When my daughter sees me crying because bills need paid and there's no money, I hope she remembers our struggles as she prepares for her future and strives to never be caught in the vicious cycles that her mother could never quite escape. When she realizes that I have been sleeping on the couch for weeks, I hope it reminds her to never settle for someone who makes her feel less than she is. She deserves to be happy, if only briefly, every day of her life. I see more of me in her than either one of us would like to admit and I'm proud to have had her aquire a few of my better characteristics, like my artistic nature and my aversion to authority, but for any of the other crap that might have slipped through, I plead for your forgiveness and ask that you keep in mind that one day, you too will see a part of your soul behind someone else's beautiful brown eyes.
Of all the wisdom I've gained on my journey, the most important thing I've learned, albeit the hard way, is to not live your life with regret. Swallow your pride and apologize, even when you know you are right. Don't hold grudges. They are tremendously heavy and will only leave you with isolation and back pain. And last, but not least, never be afraid to take the first step, even if the destination is unknown and never, ever utter the words "if only".
