Left Adrift

The weekend was riddled with birthday parties for babies. Saturday, we celebrated little Niles’ first birthday. It was a hard time because of the grief in the air. We all wanted it to be a special moment, and we all tried our hardest, but it wasn’t easy. Conversation always seemed to drift back to the dark side.

The same could be said for Sunday’s birthday—this time for baby Olivia, who turned three. The setup for this party was rather fantastic. They had balloon animals and a piñata. My God, the dessert spread. I would have been in a diabetic coma had I been able to partake. Damn shame.

Last week, the awful news came to us on Earth Day that the kids’ father had passed away. It was an unexpected blow for everyone. Needless to say, a gray cloud of grief was hanging over the household.

Yvette and the kids made travel arrangements. They had a long trip to Georgia ahead of them, and because of the cost of flights, it was decided that driving would be the most economical option. A pain in the ass, but not a pain in the pocket. A real bummer either way.

I didn’t want Yvette to go, but I understood why the kids wanted her along for the ride. They had some very adult decisions to make—decisions no one, at any age, should have to face. They also had a potential legal battle ahead of them involving probate lawyers, which is a real nightmare.

It’s cruel what they are having to endure at the hands of their grandparents. They’re making things so much worse than they should be—trying to have the kids sign away property so they can manage it, even though it rightfully belongs to the legal heirs. I hate it for them. Grandparents are supposed to be among the most caring people in your life, and these haven’t once asked the kids how they’re feeling. In fact, they’ve sent some pretty awful text messages. No tact. I just can’t wrap my mind around their behavior in this moment. It’s heartless and cruel—the two people who should be showing compassion and care. It turns out what the kids saw before was only a mask, and now those masks have been removed.

I feel so bad for them. Losing a father is hard for anyone, but their circumstances are different. He was finally letting them back into his life after ten years of barely being there. I know only part of the pain they’re feeling. A part of you leaves the world when you lose a parent. It hurts so much—almost unbearable.

I just want to be there for them in whatever way I can. It breaks my damn heart. They no longer have a father.

That Tuesday afternoon, they hit the road, and Alaya stayed with Yvette’s parents. It was at least a seventeen-hour drive, taking turns behind the wheel. I was left alone in the house—the longest stretch I’ve spent alone since getting married. I planned on eating primarily out of the freezer and staying away from the grocery store. I know I can make that work because I’ve done it before.

That night, I watched a new film on Netflix called Apex, starring Charlize Theron and Taron Egerton. Charlize and I go way back, so naturally I was invested in the film. It’s a beautifully shot survival horror set in Australia. The plot is essentially that of the classic short story “The Most Dangerous Game.” Theron goes on a pilgrimage of sorts and encounters a seemingly charming fellow, played by Egerton, who suggests an out-of-the-way place to set up camp. As any horror fan will know, this was a trick. The movie quickly becomes a hunt.

What I’d really compare it to is Prey or even Predator, but human versus human rather than human versus alien. There’s lots of incredible action and lush scenery to draw you right in. Theron is amazingly convincing. After watching, I learned that she did the majority of her own stunts. Egerton does a fantastic job as the unhinged villain. All in all, it’s a great film with a lean runtime. I needed the distraction.

So the family arrived Wednesday morning around ten o’clock. What should have been a relatively straightforward ordeal only became more sour. I felt boiling anger and profound sadness for the kids. I felt sick for Yvette, and I was so glad she went along with them. Turns out, she was able to help keep them sane.

I just can’t understand any of it. Is it greed? Is it spite? I am beginning to think it’s just evil—plain and simple. They are getting screwed by their father from beyond the grave and actively screwed by the grandparents. It’s a total mess of a situation—one that might unfortunately become expensive.

I was so pissed off by one of the exchanges the grandparents had with the kids that I had to get up and walk out of the office. I wanted to scream. I took deep breaths and walked around the building a couple of times just to get my head back on straight. I feel helpless right now being a thousand miles away from them. Not that I could do anything if I were there. It just sucks.

After work, I decided to cool off and relieve some stress by mowing my yard and my mother’s yard. It was supposed to rain again, and they both needed it. What a mess of a damn day.

Sure enough, the rain arrived. Thursday, I pleasantly woke up to the low, rolling sound of thunder. I could hear it bellowing even while I was taking my morning shower. Something about hearing thunder while in the shower just comforts me. I knew it would be a better day in that very moment.

The kids had their father’s funeral, and it went as well as one can expect. At least no drama occurred—thank the heavens for that. I’d been bracing for the worst, worrying about how it might all unfold. Yvette went too, to be there for the kids and maybe find a little closure of her own.

I don’t know how it must feel to lose an ex-spouse, but I’m sure there are conflicting emotions. No matter how or why things ended, she once loved him. She built a life with him. And together, they brought three incredible kids into this world. My heart aches for them. All I can do is be there for them in whatever capacity I can once they get back.

After work, I thought about going to the Faculty/Staff awards ceremony, but I decided to pass. I already knew who was going to win from being on the committee, and I didn’t want to go alone. Instead, I decided to roll out to Sam’s, but I had a stop to make before I got there.

Down the street from me lived a friend named Salvador. He was a local business owner whose family ran a restaurant I used to frequent almost weekly. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed a moving van at his house. When Yvette and I got back from Dallas, the place looked empty. I figured I’d stop by his restaurant for a quick drink and see what was going on.

I walked in through the back door straight to the bar, like I’ve been doing for the past five years, and ordered a beer and a shot of tequila from a young bartender I didn’t recognize. Whenever Salvador was working, he’d usually pour me a shot without me even asking. When I asked about his whereabouts, I was hit with the news that he had moved to Lubbock. It felt like a punch to the gut.

Salvador was one of the main reasons I loved going to that place. The food is great, the atmosphere is great—but he was the cherry on top. “How are you, my friend?” followed by “Tequila?”—I guess I took that for granted. It was painfully obvious on Thursday just how much it meant. The guy knew my mom. I went in so often he even gave me one of the restaurant’s work shirts. It won’t feel the same without him.

I don’t know why it hit me as hard as it did, but it did. There’s this nagging feeling I might never see him again. I wish I’d had the chance to say goodbye. To take one last tequila shot with him.

Friday, the rain just kept coming down, so I mostly stayed indoors. Yvette and the kids finally received some good news from the attorney they hired. They signed paperwork that went straight to the court, granting them legal rights to the house. That meant they could bring in a locksmith and have the locks changed. The court also ordered that all vehicles and anything taken from the house be returned.

I was relieved—finally something was going in their favor after the hellacious week they had endured. Thank fucking God.

That night, the house was quiet—too quiet. I drifted between the kitchen and the back room, eventually settling in to watch a show I’d been putting off. The dogs seemed confused by everyone being gone. It’s strange to think that, for three years, this used to be normal. I’m glad it’s no longer the case. I miss Yvette and the kids and look forward to them returning.

Happy Friday!!

Jalapeño

Chicken and veggies. Something that I hadn’t made in years. Asparagus, mushrooms, onion, jalapeño, spinach and tomatoes. Season with lemon pepper and garlic salt served over sticky rice and blanked it cheese.