I’m way too tired to write now. But I have to push this into motion, because we all know that “Sassi” cannot leave thoughts unfinished.
I’ll have to phase this in. I’m curious to know how many entries this will take.
It really is for my own sake. Too many powerful reasonings and semi-conclusions that have built enough potential energy to cause DEFCON 1 nuclear concern.
<I smiled a little bit now. This is a very serious matter, but I am laughing at the fact that I insist on using, or misusing, physics concepts to describe my state of being. I need to get to the bottom of this someday. Sometimes, words alone just don’t suffice.>
It is about my dad. My mom. My half-sister who stayed with me for 1 month recently, and with my full-sister (chuckles) for 1 1/2 months. My brother. And everything in between. In fact, my half-sister just left my house 2 days ago. I found her a place to move to.
I will begin with some condensed background information. I can’t possibly cover every “spin off” circumstance that sprouted consequentially.
My dad and mom dated for about 8 years, and were married for about 20 years. Both are pretty awesomely dedicated and loving parents. I love them both dearly and am capable of inflicting serious damage to whoever intentionally hurts them. However, like any of us imperfect beings, they have fucked up a few several times.
These entries will focus more on my dad and some of my thoughts that are finally taking shape, coming to the surface, and being articulated. Some 17 years later!
My family moved to the US in 1992. We were always, and still are, a very united family. My dad stayed behind to provide for us. My family had never been apart.
My dad and mom divorced when I was about 18. My mom asked for the divorce. What she didn’t know…what none of us knew, was that my dad had already found himself a 20-year old woman and impregnated her. I’m pretty sure the only reason he had not married her yet was because…uh…well…he was still married. My brother knew about it because he was staying with my dad for some time, and I’m guessing my dad had not way of omitting it.
I remember going back to my country for the first time in 3 years, still ignorant to my newborn half-sister’s existence. Let’s call her “Inha”. I was 18.
When we moved to the US, my dad moved to a different state where he met the new quasi-wife.
I saw my dad a few times while he visited the city I was staying in. I was there for 3 months. I didn’t know that while he visited me, he actually had brought the new quasi-wife (“Arti”), the newborn Inha, and a handful of her family members. They all stayed with my dad’s sister.
He never had the courage to tell me. He never really cared for me to meet my new “half-sister”.
Let’s now fast forward to 2013.
It deeply pains me to do this because these 17 or so years have not been easy. I mean…the things directly and somewhat indirectly related to my dad’s choice to introduce “Arti” and “Inha” into our lives. There has been a lot of pain, misunderstanding, useless discussions, endless doubts, hardships, skepticism, cynicism, anger, confusion, and the list goes on.
I will try to distill some of that in later entries.
Let me rewind just a bit. It’s 2012. My dad has been pestering us (my full brother, sister, and I) about “Inha”, who is now 17 years old, and wants to come to the US to study English and go to college here.
He keeps saying that he wants to be fair across the board. So he wants to give “Inha” the same opportunity to come to the US to study. That is…the same chance he gave my brother, sister, and I. But in his subtlety, he is asking us to be the big brother and sisters to her when she is here in the US. In his concern to provide her with the same chance, he is putting the burden on us to find good schools, housing, deal with the immigration paperwork, etc.
PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE
What the fuck!?
So wait…when you chose to conceive Inha, with her 20-year old mother Arti, you didn’t check in with us, did you?
When you had a chance to disclose your extra-marital relationship with this woman to MY mother, as she asked you for a divorce, you did not do it…did you?
When you had a chance to tell me that Arti, Inha, and her family were vacationing with you when I was in the same city, you didn’t do that…did you?
When you had many chances to let me meet my newborn half-sister, Inha, 17 years ago, you DID NOT DO IT, did you?
So why the fuck should I care about your desire to give her the same opportunity to study in the US?
What the fuck makes you think you have the right to ask or expect that my brother, sister, and I will help Inha find a good school, neighborhood to live, etc?
Now that Inha moved to the US, why the fuck do you insist on calling us almost every day to make sure we regularly check in with Inha so she doesn’t feel alone?
Did you FUCKIN think of my mother? About the fact that your expectation that we hang out with Inha, give her support, take her places, etc etc etc would inevitably make my mom, YOUR EX-WIFE, meet the “bastard” child whose existence made her suffer deeply?
DID YOU THINK ABOUT THAT? YOU FUCKER!
<right now, I feel HORRIBLE…i feel like I want to cry…writing this about my dad hurts me in places that I didn’t think existed. I love my dad unconditionally…but he is human…he makes mistakes…we all makes mistakes.>
This entry will have to wait until tomorrow…or the day after…too painful for now…BUT IT’S A PROMISE TO MYSELF. IT WILL COME OUT.