The other night I was at work and I didn’t take my cell phone. When I got home it was nearly 11pm and I had a few unread texts. Thinking that they were probably nothing, I did a few things around the house and got ready for bed. Just as I was in the midst of reading the first one from a friend, I got a text from my mom. Something about, “on our way home.” I noticed it had been sent twice. I scrolled through the rest of my unread texts. My dad had fallen and she was sitting in the ER with him.

Immediately I called. I’ve only talked to my mom a couple of times since Christmas, and it was because I was sick and I just really needed to hear my mom’s voice. She was on her way to get the car in the hospital parking lot. She told me what had happened, and that it’s happened three times in the last week. Mainly because my dad still thinks that he’s a “young buck” and can conquer the ice and snow etc. When she finally got to the door to pick him up, she gave him the phone.

He told me what had happened and how. We talked about a few things, my jobs, his job, etc. I told him to be more careful, etc. We ended the conversation with the usual I love you. The next night, he had called and left me a message but my phone was having one of it’s “moments” so it wasn’t showing he’d left a message. I called him back. Someone had called their house for me and left a message pertining to an important matter. He told me that they’d had a big story on a hacker getting into the casino computers in Council Bluffs where my ex had once worked and perhaps something was going on the needed to be addressed. I took down the number and then I asked him how he was feeling. We talked for a few minutes then Dude walked in and told me to tell him hi for him and that he hopes he’s feeling better. My dad promptly ended the call.

I am so sad that our relationship is so destroyed by the simple fact that my boyfriend is black. I realize my dad grew up in a “different era” and I know that him being a police officer has skewed his perception of people a little  more than the usual, but he hasn’t even made an effort to get to know Dude at all!

I want for the next time I am home to see my parents. I want my dad to sit there with us and teach Dude how to play cribbage, because that’s what we do and because my dad is the BEST at cribbage. I mean I could teach Dude, but in reality Dad really needs to teach him. I want him to meet my brother, and for us to be able to sit and share stories of our lives with my parents. It will never happen, he will never accept it, and for that I am heartbroken.


~ by tia0220 on February 5, 2010.

3 Responses to “Heartbroken”

  1. I hope your dad will be okay. I wish he and your Mom would be more understanding of your relationship, but my dad would be exactly the same way. You just have to be happy for you and Dude!!
    Maybe once Spring comes we can get together and meet half way in Columbus for a day of photo’s at the zoo. That would be FUN!!
    Take care

  2. I’m sorry babe.

  3. I have been following your story off and on for some time, have wanted to comment, and for whatever reason have not, until now. I am much older than you but I wanted to share my life experience as it relates to your situation. I am a white female, and the love of my life is black. We met in high school in 1977, each of us athletic, smart, beautiful, and popular… and we fell in love. But my parents could not and would not accept the situation. They did everything and anything to destroy us as a couple. But I loved my parents and my family and I saw it was destroying them and their adult friendships and relationships with extended family. They laid incredible guilt on me, the “How could you do this to us, when we have done so much for you?” kind of guilt. My boyfriend and I continued our relationship behind their backs. We had friends that covered for us, that drove for us to meet each other, that accepted mail and phone calls at their homes. We even had teachers who put careers on the line to help us…who knew we so deeply loved each other and were suffering from the worst kind of prejudice. When we went to separate colleges I faked to my parents that we were broke up, to get them off my back and to also improve my relationship with them because I so desperately loved them and wanted to “please” them. But, we maintained our relationship by visiting each others campuses often and keeping it hidden from my parents. How unfortunate that despite being an honor student on scholarship, a champion athlete, a college newspaper editor, a college yearbook editor, college marching band member, active churchmember, pageant winner, and always surrounded by amazing friends…my family would only accept me if I was apart from him. And never mind that he was on college athletic scholarshsip, was an excellent student, handsome beyond words,hard working wage earner, and treated me like the princess every parent would want for their child.
    Not of it mattered. They wouldn’t get to know him, and made it clear I was disowned if we moved forward in a permanent relationship. There were times we did seperate. It tore him up beyond words to see me in turmoil w my family. We both knew if we married and had children I would never speak to them again and our children would not have them as grandparents. I would be orphaned. But we could not stay apart. After college I took a job in New York, and he was in LA. My parents still in the midwest. He was flying to see me on a regular basis and we began to start to plan our future. Away from depending on my parents we finally felt free. We had clawed our way through nearly 7 years of discord and desperately wanted to put it behind us. And then, tragically, only a month after moving to NY my father died of a massive heart attack at the age of 57. I flew home to a mother who was absolutley unfunctional due to the sudden loss of her husband. I was a complete mess at losing him as well. My brother, grandparents, aunts and uncles, begged me to move back. My mother needed me, my brother attempted suicide trying to deal w my fathers death, and so….I gave up the job I had worked years for and went back home. And in that decision I also changed my future with the man I had loved since I was 15. I pushed him aside for my mother. I denied him. I had so many things on my plate and a mother who was laying the guilt on me so thick I could hardly breathe. On a daily basis she reminded me of how I had broken my father’s heart with my “behavior” and “choices” pertaining to “that guy.” She even said I contributed to his death because I had caused him so much worry about having to possibly never speak to his daughter again if I chose a future with “him”. I bought her guilt trip hook, line and sinker; internalized that I was a terrible person and made the decision to end it with my boyfriend. Coldly and heartlessly. I wouldn’t take his calls, respond to letters, NOTHING. I stuffed it all down, was determined to do what my father would want me to do, and with a heavy heart I moved on. He tried to make contact with me at my new job at least a couple dozen times over the course of almost 2 years. Then one day I got a letter from him at my job letting me know he had met someone, was engaged and a wedding date had been set for several months out. He made it clear he still loved me and that I had until he walked down the aisle to contact him and he would call it off if I still wanted him. As much as it devasted me, I tore up the letter and never contacted him. We never spoke again. I later met a man who my mother adored…and we married. He was not the love of my life. My heart was still with “him”. Flash forward more than two decades… and by an unbelievable chance encounter in a city we happened to each be visiting, he for work and me for an event, we saw each other in a parking lot. We looked, we stared, we starting walking toward, and then running to each other. There were no words, just an embrace that lasted an eternity and tears pouring out of each of us. I could not even stand or walk. We proceeded to have a three hour lunch catching up on our lives, showing pictures of our children, crying a lot and talking about how he never stopped loving me and I never stopped loving him. He talked about the week before his wedding and his best man was begging him to just call me and try one more time. He talked about his sister telling him to just come get me and put me on a plane and get me away from my mother. It has been over a year and we talk, email and text every single day. Yes, we are married and we do this behind our spouses backs. We have both had successful lives, have amazing children and appeared happy. But we have cried a million tears of regret. We both know we should have ended up together. My mother passed away 7 years ago and I never did receive the love and support I had hoped to gain by giving up the man I loved. All my aunts and uncles have passed away. My brother I rarely see each other.

    My point to you my dear is: If you love this man, and your family cannot accept it, It is THEIR problem not yours. If you love this man and see a future with him, and you make each other happy, marry each other and do not look back or have regrets. I hate to be so callous, but your parents are going to pass on some day and you will be left with a life. Do you want it to be THEIR life you are left to live out, or YOUR life with the person you love? I know the guilt you are feeling regarding your parents, and how their lack of acceptance makes you feel. I lived it and I can’t stand to see another young woman go through the same. I wish with all my heart I had had the courage to be true to myself and true to him. I did nothing wrong…just loved a talented, beautiful and incredibly kind/loving man who happened to be black. Do not end up like me!

    You have my email. Feel free to contact me privately at that email if you need support.

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