Bad Dreams, Bad Memories

I woke up to a horrible dream this morning.

It was a dream, granted, so it was pretty weird, The Zen Master looked kinda like Borat and we were all at my old house in Florida, but anyway, the thing that made me wake up with my heart racing and tears in my eyes? The core of the dream that shook me awake?

Sperm Donor came to see Princess Punk. I don’t think he wanted to take her away, but the mere suggestion that he wanted to be in her life was absolutely terrifying. He showed up at my front door with his (pregnant) girlfriend and her “crew” who were there I guess to muscle me into letting him see The Princess. I’m not really clear on that.

The last time I talked to Sperm Donor was about 5 years ago. The last time I got any kind of update was about 2 years ago when Princess Punk’s half-sister (he had 2 more girls after The Princess that we know of) text messaged her, “Our Daddy’s in jail again.” Awesome. I looked it up online and I guess he got nabbed for cocaine possession (that’d be crack cocaine). Again.

He’s been in and out of juvie and then prison for as long as I’ve known him. He’s always been a drug user, mostly just pot when I knew him, but based on what I’ve heard from some of his family, he has since graduated on to much harder stuff. He spent a few years in prison for dealing crack and I don’t know much of what happened to him after that.

He denied Princess Punk was his until she was about 4 I think when we finally got him pinned down for the paternity test. The only reason why they actually got a sample from him is because he was in jail. Nice. He was scary. He never hit me, but he was always intimidating. I remember one time when The Princess was just a baby, we were at his mom’s house and he came in, went up to her in her little car seat and yelled in her face just to make her cry.

I don’t know if I had ever before or since wanted so badly to hurt another human being.

After he finally admitted that yes, he was in fact her biological father, he went through brief on-again, off-again periods of interest. At one point he actually suggested letting The Princess stay with him over the weekend. Um. No.

Anyway, when we moved up here, I hadn’t heard from him in several years. He called once, not long after we moved when he got out of prison. He said a few things, some good, some bad. He said he wanted to call Princess Punk and have more contact with her. He was trying to get his shit together and he wanted to be in her life. I was actually okay with that at the time as long as he could prove to me that he was 1. sober 2. employed and 3. no longer a total jackhole. He said he understood why I moved to Vermont and that he didn’t want The Princess growing up like he did either. I appreciated that. It was the first time he had ever acknowledged the fact that I wasn’t trying to be a bitch, I was just trying to do what was best for my kid. He talked to The Princess briefly, asked her if he could call her occasionally and maybe come see him if it was okay with me. She eagerly agreed since at that point she was starving for a daddy of any kind at all.

He never called again.

Princess Punk went through a period of… mourning I guess. She really wanted that father-figure in her life. My dad was there to some degree but she wanted needed more. My heart broke for her every time she said something about going to Florida to maybe visit her daddy or wanting to see her sister or just little things like her giving me a gift on Father’s Day since she didn’t have anybody else and the whole class made stuff.

And then came The Zen Master. And he opened his heart to her without reservation and without concern about who’s kid she was biologically. She became his daughter, he became her Dad. They both slipped into the roles so simply that it felt like it had been that way all along. That the Sperm Donor was just that, that The Zen Master was meant to be her Dad from before they even met.

The realization of that came in the car one day on the way to my mom’s house. Without really thinking, I said something about how she was lucky she got her physical make-up from Sperm Donor’s side of the family since he was all muscle and I’m… well… not. She said “Yeah but I got my jaw from my dad too (she has a serious underbite which will cause major issues later on).” Then a moment of silence. Then, “He’s not my dad, The Zen Master is my Dad. He’s… What should I call him anyway?” I told her she would be best just referring to him by name.

And then I cried a little bit. Because I realized The Zen Master had not only patched the holes in my heart, but he’d swept in and fixed hers too.

And Sperm Donor became just another bad dream.


5 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. coffeepoweredmom
    May 31, 2012 @ 11:03:53

    This one strikes a chord for me. I’m glad she can recognize The Zen Master as her dad, that’s what I’m hoping for in my situation too. Thank you.


    • newlifeinvermont
      May 31, 2012 @ 12:21:26

      It’s funny, I was so concerned about it at first since The Zen Master didn’t have any kids and really knew nothing about being a father, but it came so naturally to both of them that by the time we got married it didn’t even occur to me that it might have been an issue. I hope it works out for you 🙂


  2. Trackback: That Glint of Light? That’s My Smile. « coffeepoweredmom
  3. tdblue
    Jun 01, 2012 @ 17:22:47

    This really touched my heart. I’m glad you and your daughter found the Zen Master and happiness.


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