The past couple of weeks have been mixed with so many strong emotions... more than I've ever experienced. I guess you could say I have gone through a transformation.
I always thought my dad was going to be there to make-up with. I had visualized "making it big" and then being accepted by my family. He would be proud of me and wrap his arms around me and tell me how much he loved me. But what I had envisioned can never come true because he and I both waited too long. Seven years. Now my father is no longer on this earth; just the shell of the man I once knew, buried in Cleveland's cold ground.
When I got the call I fell to my knees and prayed to the Lord to bring him back. Screaming and crying without end, uncontrollably. I blamed myself for everything and professed I would never get over this...that my life would never be the same. You see I was daddy's little girl and I learned recently that he would say "she's still my first born". In fact, this Thanksgiving (just before he died) he sang a song and asked people to sing with him and when they didn't he said, "If Alisa was here she'd sing with me".
I wish so badly that I could have been there to sing with him. Instead I sang at his funeral... a song that I wrote called 'Stranger's In Time'. I cried all the way through the song...don't know how I got to the end.
7 years. I always looked at families who didn't talk to each other for years and years and looked at them in disbelief and stupidity. Tragically this is what me and my father had become...two souls locked in love and grief.
During these 7 years apart I felt that my dad had disowned me, that he didn't want to talk to me and that he despised me for following my dreams in becoming a professional singer.
If he or I would have called, then we would have both known the truth and the burden that we both lived with and that I still carry would have been lifted. We would have been free.
Free to love, free to forgive and free to forget.
Please if you are separated from a loved one reconnect with them.
Love,
Alisa
4 comments:
I'm sorry about your father. I felt horrible when I read about it in the paper and then I found your blog. I dated your brother for a little bit in high school and met you a couple times. You probably don't remember me. Travis would always talk about their vending machine business. You guys are in my thoughts! The same thing happened to me last year. I stopped talking to my dad's whole side of the family for 5 years and my grandfather passed away and I never got to say goodbye. Feel free to email me back: dddd89 (at) hotmail.com.
I love your blog... and these words from your heart will reach the hearts of so many others.
Alisa.... your dad is watching you daily .... he is singing with you. He knows how much you truly love him. Keep singing...keep telling him how much you love him..... he hears you, and is beaming to all his new friends about you.
He will visit you during your wedding day...he will be with you during all huge events in your life. Be his little girl forever... and you will feel his hug from time to time.
G-d bless you for allowing his love to be felt once again.
Rabbi
Thank you for sharing with love and honesty your life story. You are truly beautiful and the world will welcome you with wide arms. You are a blessing for all. Love you
What is it about us that makes us wait forever, for chances that never come? Sure, there is too much to do in one lifetime; but some of it is more important than the rest. I've been where you were, when you typed this post. My mother and I were never close. She was abusive, manipulative, and literally psycho. She was the reason my brother will never be able to grow up. I was furious at her. I never wanted to talk to her again, even though I knew forgiveness is always better than harboring grudges. She wanted to get closer to me, in her last few years of life, but I rejected her. I couldn't get over... everything. It was only when my aunt called my dad, and told him that my mother died, that I realized what a fool I'd been! I composed a little something to be read at her funeral (I can always post it, if you're interested), and the pastor of her church read it at her memorial service. Only after her death did I realize how much I truly loved and missed her. I doubt anybody will read my reply (except you, Alisa); but, if anybody else does, take it from those who know: time is short, and you only get one life to live (cliche as those lines may be). NEVER WASTE A SECOND OF IT!
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