Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Looking for Dad

I had a pretty great childhood, and I think my mom did a beautiful job at raising me. :)~

She was Mom, and she was Dad. And from the time I was born to the time I left the house, temporarily (but we didn't know it then), she was always there. Sometimes more then I wanted her to be. But now I can look back and say, my mom dedicated her life to me, and my sis. She made sure we were taken care of, she went to work, she came home, she went to work, she came home. Her life, her wants, and her needs, were put on hold for sis and I.

I look back and truly appreciated all my mom did for me. And continues to do for me.

But there has always been something someone....'not there'.

The story of 'Dad' is a long one, I'll give you the condensed version. The biggest interruption, alcohol. My dad was an alcoholic. And from what I've learned from many trips to AA for Teens of Alcoholic Parent(s), once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.

My parents divorced when I was young and I'm assuming it was because my mom couldn't handle the drinking any longer. Many bad things happened and almost happened to me and my sis because of his drinking, but my mom did everything she could to protect us.

As dad went down the road of recovery, he hit many bumps along the way. Eventually, he was sober long enough for my mom to allow him to come around again.

I remember when I was in middle school (and high school), he would catch a bus to mom's house to visit me. We would grab our tennis rackets and head across the street to the middle school courts. We never stayed on the courts very long because we both sucked! We decided to play doubles. Me and dad against the massive wall of AMS.

Other times we would take the basketball out for a round or two of H.O.R.S.E. I can't remember who won but I was pretty good then, we'll say it was me. On days when the sun brought too much heat to southwest Houston, we stayed inside and played games. Mainly dominoes. That's why I always kick the hubs' ass today. Ha! Ha! (Love ya Babe!)

Now that I'm thinking about it, I remember days when I would visit him at the halfway house and play pool for hours. I loved playing pool with dad. I also remember him working at a dog kennel, or something like it, and I would walk through with him and pet all the dogs.

Anyway, after his visits we would pile in the car and mom would drop dad off at the bus station. He'd give me a kiss and we'd say our goodbye's. As we drove off I'd watch him walk to the bench, drop his bag, and take a seat. When we turned out of the station and headed back home, I would look at him from a distance. Sometimes he waved, sometimes he didn't.

I guess this isn't the condensed version. Sorry.

As I got older, spending weekends with Dad didn't sound like much fun. His visits became few and far between.

Graduation approached and I remember he was very excited to see his only child graduate. The day came but my dad didn't. Some time in the year of 2000 was the last I saw or talked to him.

It's been 9 years and many things have changed. Two kids, a new house, new husband (not in that order), new job, new problems and a new me.

So where are you Robbie Jim Cochran?

I have a few things to show you. Bean and D are wonderful children. Sean aka 'The Hubs' makes everyday a good one (most of the time), and I'm still your little girl. Just all grown up.

And I know this is a loooooooooooong shot but, if you know him, just tell him I love him.


Bonita Boutique said...

This is touching, thanks for sharing. We'll help you find him...

Bonita Boutique said...

This is touching, thanks for posting. We'll help you find him... might be a long journey but you'll find him.
My father-in-law only knew that his father had died when we were looking at his family line and found Leo Ross' death record online. That is really sad. Don't let that happen to you....

The Pitter Patter Boutique said...

Thank you Camila! And I'm sorry to hear about your FIL's experience. I definitely don't want that to happen to me.

Ella said...

Your story is very touching. You know I am at the stage that everything makes me weep and your story did it. I was unaware of your childhood but you turned out to be a wonderful woman. Love

Nanny Deprived said...

Best of luck in your search.