My Hero

• Introduction

Outsiders looking in would often say my father had all the ‘riches’ a man could ask for in life. He had a beautiful girlfriend who bared his two beautiful daughters, supportive family, respect from almost anyone he came in contact with, and a smile that could charm the blind. But in a blink of an eye he lost it all; the supportive family soon started to criticize. The town’s people started to whisper as he stumbled past; “they called me a walking ghost”, and the beautiful girlfriend that once stood by his side and bared his two beautiful daughters, has since been married and divorced, and was now on her way to Texas  where her new life seemed to be. She had met a new man that has stolen her heart, and when she kisses his lips she does not smell a hint of beer or taste the lingering cigarettes that once resided on my father’s lips. Many wondered how he could allow alcohol to ruin such a wonderful thing.

Although my father had seemed to lose everything, he managed to somehow be content with the life style and environment he had created for his self. Most people would think at this point my father’s life has been torn apart, so how could he continue to go about life? How could he seem to be content with my sister and I now living half way across the country with my mother and a man he had never met? Aside from the disease my father struggled with and the miles that now seemed to separate us from our father, my mom was still willing to allow my sister and I to be a part of ours father’s life. So they came to a mutual agreement to allow my sister and myself to fly up North every summer, which allowed us to reside with our father for a month. The agreement seemed to be working well, despite a few minor setbacks along the way. Until one night my father allowed his addiction to surpass his better judgment in the summer of 2003, when my father decided we were going to attend one of his coworker’s parties. This seemed to be okay with my mother considering most of the people attending this party worked with my grandmother, so if anything was to happen my mom was confident she would be notified. But what should have been an evening full of good times and laughter, quickly turned into a disaster. “He was intoxicated and was throwing you girls into the pool”, my mother stated. “When your dad’s coworker realized your dad was intoxicated she asked her boyfriend to address your dad, in hopes to make him stop. But your dad did not appreciate another man telling him what to do with his children.”  The situation quickly turned physical, causing innocent, yet concerned, bystanders to break the altercation apart. But once the altercation had been stopped my father did the unthinkable; “he left, leaving you girls behind at the party.” (Joann Ortman)  Surrounded by an abundance of strangers, there my sister and I were, stranded in unfamiliar territory.  Talk about the altercation quickly got around to my grandmother, who then contacted my mother. This time my father had crossed the line, and my mother was booking us the first flight back to Houston; “I was done humoring him. Your guy’s safety was more important to me than, really anything.” Upon informing my father that we would be returning home before their prior arranged agreement, she also informed my father that she would no longer allow my sister and I to fly down to see him, and at the time my sister and I agreed with our mothers decision. But after a couple months the frequent phone calls quickly faded until they stopped all together.  Now as a child, my sister and I were very confused as to what was happening, but more than anything we were upset. Our father was not a factor in our lives for four long years after that night, and we began to blame ourselves.

Soon, there came point in my father’s life where he was first given notice that everything is going to change, whether he knew it or not. It is now March 2007, four years had passed before my sister and I would receive a phone call from our father. My 16th birthday was only a couple weeks away and he wanted to fly into Houston to celebrate it with my sister and I. Again, my mother placed the past behind her and allowed my father to come back into our lives to celebrate my big day, but my mother had certain stipulations; “I told your father that if he wanted to fly into town then that was fine by me, BUT there was to be no alcohol. He was not allowed to drink under any circumstances since your father had a tendency to be aggressive when he started drinking, and I had five kids in my home that needed to be protected.”  My father agreed to my mother’s stipulations and booked his flight into town. When my father landed my sister and I could not have been more excited, but that excitement was short lived, because an hour after we arrived home my father had a seizer. Once my father was transported to the local hospital, he was told that not only did he suffer a seizure from alcohol withdrawals, but he was also in the beginning stages of Cirrhosis of the liver The doctor told my father he either had to change his habits and life style or he was going to die; “I didn’t believe him. I felt like he was trying to scare me into changing the life and I wasn’t listening”.  My father was reluctant at first. This was primarily based on the fear of the unknown, and his comfort with the familiar. He enrolled into a rehab located in North Carolina, but quickly left stating he was treated unfairly. “The first facility was horrible. They acted like I was a convict or disgrace. Even some of the patients acted like they were above me. I thought we were all in the program together, but I was wrong”.  It would be another two years before my father would receive his last, and final call for change, when my father decided to plan another visit in March of 2009 to celebrate another big day for me; my 18th birthday. While my sister was visiting him at his hotel room, my father made troublesome advances towards my sister while he was under the influence of alcohol. “Just as soon as I entered the room I noticed a twenty-four pack laying on the floor to the right of the bed. I sat down on the bed in the hotel room while dad got up and went into the restroom. After a couple minutes pass dad comes stumbling out of the restroom like he usually does and sits down on the bed next to me, which was nothing unusual when he was drinking”, my sister stated.  My sister and father started talking about how my father had some gifts from our Aunt that he had brought with him during his trip; “One of the things he pulled out was a sweat shirt that Aunty Kathy had got for me. He told me to try it on to make sure it fit, but whenever I tried the shirt on I noticed he was staring at my breast area. That’s when he said, while looking at my breasts, ‘My, my, you sure have grown. That shirt is just barley fitting over your top.’ I didn’t think anything of the comment until I noticed he kept staring at my breast, and then he started to rub my back and mess with my shoulders. I felt uncomfortable and didn’t know how to leave the situation. Luckily, mom started knocking on the door. She was my life saver.” The following morning my father was informed about his behavior towards my sister the night before. Horrified at his actions, he apologized, but by this point it was too late.  My sister and I could not handle his lifestyle any longer, so we decided to end all contact with our father until he was sober. Another two years would pass before he called to notify my sister and I that he was going to be attending an inpatient rehab, and this time he was determined to succeed. I asked him how he could be so confident that this attempt would be different than the last attempt, and he responded with; “I have lost the respect of my girls and everyone around me. I cannot continue to kill myself.” Skeptical, my sister and I wished my father well and hung up the phone. My father walked alone, confronted with an obstacle he had to overcome before fully entering into the dangers of the unknown. My father decided he needed to pack up his belongings and move away from his family and friends in order for him to fully commit to his journey. So he packed what little he had and started his search for the best treatment facility. On March 16th 2011, after tons of research, and numerous walk troughs at countless facilities; my father started his road to recovery at a treatment center located in Harrington, Delaware. It wasn’t until my father crossed the threshold, that he would realize his whole world will forever be changed. Although the detoxing process was not easy, my father felt that his determination and love for my sister and I was stronger than the disease that had taken over most of his life. “It felt like I was going through an exorcism. I didn’t want to leave my room or speak to anyone. It was a literal living hell and I the thought of giving up crossed my mind a lot. But I just kept praying, asking God to heal me, and I repeated the rewards in my head.” I asked my father what his ‘rewards’ consisted of, “At that point in my life, I just wanted you girls back. I wanted you to realize that you guys meant more than any bottle I ever picked up. ”