A Price Paid

My Daughter

Oh! No! Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody! - Cat Stevens

I’m sitting here on yet another “Saturday” night without you (actually Friday but I like that song), my daughter. I’m meant to be able to spend time with you on weekends at least these days. Even if just for a few days each week, at least it’s something for one of the few people in this world I actually give a fuck about. But it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, three months, feels like a lifetime……

But I understand. Covid has you worried and your mother moved so far away it’s hard…..I’ll be patient. I have no choice.

I do miss you though, with all my heart. Even just to be in the same house as each other, warmed my heart and calmed me. Not much else in this world has let me be at ease, but having you close by, has always made me feel full, complete.

Unbalanced

After I found out my girlfriend was pregnant, I was completely shocked to say the least. I mean, I know very well what unprotected sex leads to, I’m not a complete fool…..but when it happens at the dumbshit age of 23, it comes as quite an eye opener. I’m fresh back from Warranbool playing in the Hamptons League in Western Victoria following my 3rd knee injury, met the girl of my dreams (at the time) and one thing leads to another…..

I guess this kicked me into gear a little bit. I come from a family that swings to the right and is business orientated to the small to medium degree, so I guess I just followed my path laid out before me by my role models as I assumed everything should happen.

“Mother holds the child, Father holds the family”.

Fuck me! How much is that proverb completely out of fashion and almost sounds like rythmic swearing in the modern age?

Either way, this is the only path that I saw before me. I would put everything into my new business while my partner held our child.

But given the modern age, equality between sexes, political correctness and all that new age jibberish that a bush kid struggles to understand…….that old age adage just does not ring true anymore.

I spent four years at this stage, working like a dog. 70+hrs a week. Running a crew as all good dads should. Pushing. Striving. Defiant. Only to run into a dead end and be bitch slapped by the GFC. Fuck you bankers, you very well knew what you were doing. Shame on you.

Unpaid invoices. Insolvency. No money left after paying my men. Payment plans to no evail. Broke…..

But worse than all that? I lost you. My young, new family was broken. Your mother and I, we’re adults and we’ll manage. But your little face shadowing my every step in that amazing little fairy costume…..just brought me to tears.

Finding Balance

After all the smoke cleared and the bankruptcy took place. Your mother and I split with an arrangement for a 50/50 split on what we would provide you. Not just money, but time, effort and everything else involved….we BOTH, wanted the best for you in a bad situation.

I said at this stage I would never put working 70+hrs  a week ahead of spending time with my daughter again. My one and only daughter. My light in this dark sub-conscience state of mind where nothing else shines so brightly. I spend the next 3 years of my mandatory bankruptcy dedicating myself to giving myself to my daughter, as much as I could, while learning again, how to be a father.

Not long after this, your mother wanted to move away. She had found someone else and sought an opportunity away from the horrific Gold Coast that had tainted so much of our family in the past. But I refused. I refused to let you go. I refused to let you move away from a dad who was trying his hardest to be a “good” dad. I’d tell myself mothers don’t pull thier child away from thier father if the father wants to be there, trying to be good and do the right thing.

With my definance, that I’ve always had, I held on tight to you for a few years. Your mother moved away. I sacrificed business to make sure my dauthter did not get second place again. But alas. Puberty comes, you miss your mother and need more support from a closer aspect than your red neck, bush kid father can provide…..so I made the decision to let you go. To move with your mother down south and for me, to be become the weekend component in your life.

Roller Coaster

I return to the first section of this blog. “Oh no another Saturday night!”

After this stupid fucking Covid19, media shit storm hit…..you my daugher, the direct descendant of complete hatred of the modern, conglomerate system, has decided it’s better to listen to the media blackmail, sit tight and do exactly as this government tells you to do, only to not see your father for over three months now.

I sit here on one side of the fence, working my butt off making hay while the sun shines, back into that 70+hrs a week for lack of a better choice. Yet I find myself completely confused again internally with what balance I’ve been trying to find for the past 13-14 years, between family and work.

I hope through all this, it’s the little things that you’re able to appreciate if you get a chance to read dad’s fumblings. The little contextual components to writing, where you can see through the bullshit and take note of the simplest things, like I did my best to put family before work in every pretext of my life, as at the time, I understood throughout several generational changes in our life time.

Although I love my work and I’m so proud of how far this ugly bush kid has come in life….

It’s still you sweetheart. Until my dieing breath. You are my breath.

I love you.

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