I told you guys this one was coming, and now that I am in Facebook Jail I can really concentrate on these posts, I miss you guys, and helping to make your day, but, sometimes in life we have to take the brunt of something for the greater good, as stupid as it sounds, I will ALWAYS take a stupid social media ban over letting my friends suffer. Wanna know the story? Its coming for sure! For now, lets get dirty and stinky and manly.... And face some toxic stuff.
Dedicated to the biggest Man in my life and his bottle
In World War 2 Germany invaded Hungary, my Pap was 7, and used to sneak to the German Officers shed and steal his sausage for his family. He also didn't have many things to play with as a kid, so they played with that they found, and one day he found a grenade and lost an eye. All true stories from the "Old Times" they could not have been that great because, he never talked about them really. And he left home on his own when he was 19 to find a brand new life. With 16 cents in his pocket and a Cousin on the other side, he set sail for America. His boots landed in this region, and stayed here from then on. Within a few years he had built a home with his own two hands on a compound for his family, which is where we all are to this day. It sounds like a heroic story, and it is for sure, and it comes from one of the most broken men I ever faced.
I met my Pap when I was 3, I was not a fan of males at the time. The only one in my life was my other Grandpa and now my Mom was dating some new dude, so in typical fashion of mine, I sat in between them on each and every date, and my Dad was always more than willing to let me come along. One day we got invited to a family gathering and I was introduced to Pap, I immediately hid behind my Mom and he laughed and held out his hand. For some reason I felt OK and we walked over to stir soup cooking on the wood stove, I cant still smell the soup that day. Within a month, we were moved in here and I had a full family the rest of my life.
My Pap Grammy and Dad
As a young boy, we took a lot of walks around the woods, for hours sometimes, just me and him, showing me the ins and outs of the area and making me familiar with what I know so well now. As I got older, life became more tragic, and everyone I looked up to became more emotionless. We stood by a lot of gravesites as a family in my life, never once bringing up how we felt, it was just a no-no, Man or Woman. Emotions sent us down a rabbit hole. Some of us adapted OK to letting it out when no one else could see them. Some of us, like the dude who taught us how to bottle it up, weren't so good at it. We found other ways to let it out, I found a magical plant to cure my ails, my Pap loved booze, no easier way to put it. It was his coping mechanism on being a man like he was taught, even when facing trauma.
The Man was a hard worker, from dawn to dusk, whether on the clock, or doing one of the many homesteading things around here like splitting wood for winter or butchering Hogs on Sunday, there was, and is always something going on around here. My basement was the local social club, it was how my Pap avoided us. We never saw it as an issue because, he worked hard and it kept him quiet. He was at best a "Grouch" when I was younger until he had booze, which was immediately after work and around 11 AM on weekends, starting with four shots each time to hurry the process. One thing in my life I never had to worry about becoming was an alcoholic to be honest, I didn't find peeing your pants because you couldn't find the bathroom that funny. Also, waking up with a headache every morning? We all have our vices. He was always a good Man, I can never deny that, we can't bad mouth the faults of others if we learned from them.
For my 15th birthday I got working papers, it was supposed to be an honor because that is simply where life began for you. My Dad and his siblings? Had a job at 15. This is where I could shine, I was now going to fall into a nice paying hard labor job and build myself up to owning this place one day. I wasn't falling for that, my entire life was rebellion, so at 17 I joined the Navy, and the day after I graduated High School I left home the first time. Turns out, after a while of making people real proud the Navy decided that me and them weren't meant for each other either and I got a nice Medical Discharge once we pulled a few strings, I got lucky in the end. I will never forget the time I spent on a ship, but I also know not all the memories were that great.
Anyways back on track, I came home and everyone was happy. I could get a job and get back to normal! Four months later I packed a suitcase and started a 10 year spree of seeing the country on busses and rails, living where I wanted, coming back when I felt like it, and leaving again in the middle of the night or so, round and round it went. I was hurting everyone they way they hurt me by ignoring everything I faced by myself, that's the first time I said that, we are all learning here!
While I was doing what I wanted in the world, life was still going on at home, and it wasn't going well, I talked once before about when my Pap lost his wife, but not with much detail. I was living about 7 hours away when I got the call, and made them wait until my girlfriend got off of work before I even told them for sure I was coming home, I was scared, I was coming home to face a crushing defeat alone. My Grammy deserves her own piece of writing which she will get, but as a young man who had spent my entire young life with the woman, it crushed me like a sack of rocks.
I came home and was immediately embraced in hugs, my family had lost their rock. I looked at Pap and he shoo'd me away in tears. I had held a lot of regret about the situation, and the best way to manage that was to leave everyone in their peace, knowing how much of a disappointment I was, I didn't man up like I was supposed to, and it hurt pretty bad which was even worse on me because, "You gotta be tough in this world". So I toughed it out, and left right after her viewing, not even sticking around for a burial, I had work and it was well received that it was more important, work was more important than my Gram, it ignited the idea that work really was all anyone wanted out of me, so... I worked, and when I didn't work, I wanted to end my life. I started a family, worked hard, and eventually, came home because it fell apart on me. I was welcomed home with open arms, we all were, I was a helping hand again. With multiple daily shaming tactics because I was not a Man who could provide.
In this period, me and my Pap went round almost every day, because I didn't have my emotions in check and my Wife had to work for a year instead of me toughing it out, every day was drunken banter from a retired lonely old man, who had everyone he needed around him to survive and it still wasn't good enough. My Pap took booze to a new level, every day, with periods of "I am gonna drink water for a week" for well over 60 years and in 2015, he met the thing that would end drinking for him, so would I, and it changed both of our outlooks forever. That morning, I made some rockin' breakfast muffins, which he was my number one taste tester and I was his "Chef" cooking is a natural art for me, and he was the one man who believed that. I offered him a muffin and instead he took my hand and told me he couldn't stand up. The ability to keep up with his outbursts, and anger proved too much, alcohol couldn't help this time, he was having a full blown stroke.
The next 3 minutes are kind of a blur of crying kids and an ambulance and lots of other scary stuff I couldn't handle, and in that blur, he asked me not to let him die, and I told him that of course, he was too God Damn crabby to die and he breathed a sigh of relief just for a second, I had reignited a fire inside and he survived, bound to a bed, it was a true test for all of us involved, it brought the entire family fully together after years of hostility through love and hiding emotions as we were always taught. We were a unit, and everyone worked together to make it function. The anger we all felt that had clouded the air was lifted and we were all one in the house. Four years later, we buried him before Covid-19 could hit a few months later. That was the end of a lonely legacy of hidden emotions and wanting to be known as tougher than the rest. In the end, the people who love you pick up the emotional tab of what ya left.
The last time we saw each other
This one turned out real long, really long, it became a story more or less. You may be wondering what the lesson is here, well it's one of the first aspect I am giving as to what built up my own identity of manhood. If you read this far, I REALLY appreciate it, this took just about a week to fully put together. I had to dig deep emotionally which was something that is unfortunately not an easy task because opening up sends me down a hole, sometimes, and this one sent me down one hell of a hole. I am not my Pap, my emotions are not easily hidden. I am my Mothers son in the end, and I carry her side of the family well, it kills me inside, but we are getting there. That's coming up in the next post! I could not make this man sound like a monster because he wasn't. He was a tough, drunk prick, but he carried so much guilt for it. He was raised by a Mother when a Man that took off, he never became that Man, and neither did his Son, and because of them, I carry the tradition well. My kids are my life, but I do things my own way.
I guess now I can finally get where I am going. For my first piece I wanted to pay tribute to the main Man who influenced what I know. "Work yourself into the ground and show up to the afterlife drunk". Or, another battle cry "In Heaven there is no beer, that's why we drink it here". I am sure those guys who wrote that paced themselves instead of finding family at the Beer Distributor. As for me, I choose to live differently, kind of.. With my own set of vices, and you know, they don't end me up anything like what I had to see growing up. I personally cannot stand the taste of alcohol because I told myself at a young age it was poison. I had my fun with alcohol, sort of, my love has always been green, its how I drown myself, just like him.
Also like him, I am a loving Dad, giving and never asking in return from anyone, just like how I was raised, to comply with what others needed, not wanted. Only I refuse to be taken advantage of and put winding down with friends take over being a Dad and all the joy it brings. Hiding our sadness from the world, like it is some badge of honor is baggage. For many years I wore my heart on my sleeve, but in silence and considered it "Manning up" trying to be everything I knew a Man was growing up. It broke me and I had to dig deep to find the correct way to approach living. Running away from life never helped either, I lost a lot of years trying to get away from the root of the problem. I honestly, tell both my kids of my follies in life, good and bad, that is ALSO coming in a later post but to be short and finally finish this..
I love my kids like I was always loved but never shown, hoping they never do what I did. I approach them honestly and directly about life, when I think they need to know a story to relate to a situation. I do my best to be the Man I loved, and look past the other side of him. I do that by respecting his last wishes ever to me, that no matter what I do, however I do it, do it like he always wanted to but couldn't. I hold that close, and live by it these days in every single thing I approach in life. He had finally given me the love and advice I needed. I can balance between what I loved, and knew I never wanted to pick up from the man who's laugh I can still hear, and fried Chicken I can still smell every Sunday. This issue took me A WEEK to write... It was a hard one, I hope my story reaches at least one person, and if you read this far, thank you so much! I hope it made sense and went somewhere in my storytelling.
`
Comments