Hey, Dad, What Do You Think About Your Son Now?
It was getting late. Still hadn't heard from her.
Out of character any day of the week, but even
moreso when set plans are just two hours away.
Concern began dancing with curiousity in my head.
I didn't know what to do, but I knew what not to do.
What should be first instinct has always been a last
resort. With little to no help elsewhere, it soon was
the inevitable. There was no avoiding it. I called him.
He'd just gotten home, which meant he was probably
three beers in. He hadn't heard from her and no one
else had either. I was getting worried, but keeping my
cool. The same couldn't be said for him. Through the
dryness of his voice, I could hear him unraveling with
the few brain cells that have somehow survived the
hurricane of alcohol that drowns them daily. Irrational
words began to spew like a fire hydrant into the streets.
He said he was throwing that damn blue tooth away as
soon as she got home. If she ever got home. Because
it was all the damn blue tooth's fault. I told him to calm
down, which already knowing what he next admitted
calls into question the relevance of such a suggestion.
And that's when he said it. "I can't calm down!" Exactly,
dad, exactly. You can't calm down. You can't be the adult.
Ever. Instead you have to throw a fit and act like a child.
Excuse me, infant. So I've been forced to be the adult for
most of my life, which I'm not complaining about, but see,
I don't know how good of an adult I am at times. And I
wonder if this being my only example in those "formative"
years holds any fault. No, I'm not still holding you to blame.
I can't anymore. I AM an adult now, like it or not. I control
the things that make me a good or bad adult. Hell, a good
or bad person. Sometimes I'm amazing at this thing called
life and sometimes I suck at it, but whatever the outcome,
I know it was not you who brought me here. I can't take all
the credit for where I am today. There have been a lot of
people that have helped out along the way. And I believe
you've tried to be one of those people. You definitely have
redeeming qualities. There's a good person down there
somewhere, but the flashlight usually loses its batteries
before I can find him in the abyss your habits keep him.
So I'm sorry. I must admit. I am very glad that it was the
damn blue tooth's fault and mom just never got our calls.
Not only because I love her dearly and don't know what I'd
do if something happened to her. But also because I know
I'd be left to take the reigns. You'd be useless. Not even
a last resort. You'd let the house fall apart with your life.
And before long Dylan would be an orphan. Truth hurts.
But it is what it is. I still love you - the best I know how.
And I guess you do the same. So maybe we're even. Who
knows. I stopped keeping score. Instead I spend each day
(some days more than others) trying to make the best of
what I have and make better of who I am. And that's all.
Out of character any day of the week, but even
moreso when set plans are just two hours away.
Concern began dancing with curiousity in my head.
I didn't know what to do, but I knew what not to do.
What should be first instinct has always been a last
resort. With little to no help elsewhere, it soon was
the inevitable. There was no avoiding it. I called him.
He'd just gotten home, which meant he was probably
three beers in. He hadn't heard from her and no one
else had either. I was getting worried, but keeping my
cool. The same couldn't be said for him. Through the
dryness of his voice, I could hear him unraveling with
the few brain cells that have somehow survived the
hurricane of alcohol that drowns them daily. Irrational
words began to spew like a fire hydrant into the streets.
He said he was throwing that damn blue tooth away as
soon as she got home. If she ever got home. Because
it was all the damn blue tooth's fault. I told him to calm
down, which already knowing what he next admitted
calls into question the relevance of such a suggestion.
And that's when he said it. "I can't calm down!" Exactly,
dad, exactly. You can't calm down. You can't be the adult.
Ever. Instead you have to throw a fit and act like a child.
Excuse me, infant. So I've been forced to be the adult for
most of my life, which I'm not complaining about, but see,
I don't know how good of an adult I am at times. And I
wonder if this being my only example in those "formative"
years holds any fault. No, I'm not still holding you to blame.
I can't anymore. I AM an adult now, like it or not. I control
the things that make me a good or bad adult. Hell, a good
or bad person. Sometimes I'm amazing at this thing called
life and sometimes I suck at it, but whatever the outcome,
I know it was not you who brought me here. I can't take all
the credit for where I am today. There have been a lot of
people that have helped out along the way. And I believe
you've tried to be one of those people. You definitely have
redeeming qualities. There's a good person down there
somewhere, but the flashlight usually loses its batteries
before I can find him in the abyss your habits keep him.
So I'm sorry. I must admit. I am very glad that it was the
damn blue tooth's fault and mom just never got our calls.
Not only because I love her dearly and don't know what I'd
do if something happened to her. But also because I know
I'd be left to take the reigns. You'd be useless. Not even
a last resort. You'd let the house fall apart with your life.
And before long Dylan would be an orphan. Truth hurts.
But it is what it is. I still love you - the best I know how.
And I guess you do the same. So maybe we're even. Who
knows. I stopped keeping score. Instead I spend each day
(some days more than others) trying to make the best of
what I have and make better of who I am. And that's all.