Monday, November 15, 2010


I was born the day before my dad's birthday. The story goes that he wanted me to be born on HIS birthday (Planned c-section) but my mom said that I needed my own birthday. So, she chose the 16th of November as my birthday. Then, my dad had the nerve to name my Roberta. Yes, I actually at one time had a birth cert. paperwork filled out with Roberta Roark. My father's name is Burton. He claims that he named me that because he wanted to name me Bobbi. Bobby is short for Robert, therefore, Roberta was perfect. I asked him why not just name me Bobbi then? He said because Bobbi is short for Roberta! I then usually point out that Sandi is short for Sandra, yet he chose to name me Sandi. Let's face it Pop, you wanted to name me Roberta because it had Bert in it, and to torture your poor korean wife who could not (and some argue still can't) pronounce the "R" sound. We know what's up.

Today, I went out and got him a card. I always go with something funny. I don't do well with mush. That's Michelle's job. Call me insensitive but there is something about my father crying that unnerves me. I get all hot and squeamish. It's just not.. right. So, I go with funny but as I won't be there to see him open it, I put a wee bit of mush in there from me.

Me and my sisters are going through a lot right now. I'm getting divorced, Michelle lives in California and soon Bo will be moving to Colorado, and me and the kids are coming back to St. Louis. I feel bad for my parents. They're losing the two good girls and getting, well me. The hard headed surly bird. The one that was more than content to live 900 miles away, and you know what? The rest of the family was ok with that, too. We all got along better that way. I've always been a little different, a little difficult, a little pissy, a little impatient, and little quick to roll my eyes and huff off in pissiness. It's not that I try to be that way, I just am. They didn't get it but over time, they've accepted it. I've also learned through the years and because of my wonderful drugs that life doesn't have to be so damned hard and I don't have to be so hard either.

My dad and I always butted heads, we have never gotten along. We've exchanged harsh words and the more he tried to control, the more I rebelled. What do you expect from two hot-headed Scorpios? Over the years we learned how to manage each other. A lot of kid gloves, bitten tongues, egg shell walking and avoidance on both parts. It's not that we don't love each other, we do, it's just more pleasant this way.

Even though it was rough growing up this way, and despite the fact that all three of us are now adults and yet we're still subjected to his random rants on how're we're "ruining his life" it has made my sisters and I strong and independent women. After you have lived with the "ultimate man" all mortal men seem easy in comparison.

So the mush in my card told him that. That even all three girls are going through some pretty life changing events, because we're HIS daughters, we'll take it all in stride. That thanks to him, we were equipped with the life lessons so we aren't weak, clingy, weak willed individuals. We learned to listen to our hearts mostly, but never to discount our head's opinion, that you don't always get what you want and that's ok, that you know what? Life ISN'T fair and that's how it goes, and worrying gets you nowhere, being proactive garners results.

I didn't really come to this realization until Tony left. When Tony and I would fight, he would accuse me of being like my dad. This used to hurt me. He's said it once since we've been seperated and I paused and then said "You know what? Yes, I am and just now I've realized that that isn't such a bad thing. So, say it all you want, it doesn't matter anymore. There are worse things to be in life."

And that's the truth.. because my dad hates liars.

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