February 22, 2016

February 22, 2016.

 I will never forget that date. The day my dad got arrested and it wasn't even during the day. It was literally minutes into the beginning of the "day." Minutes after 12:00 a.m in the middle of the night. At least according to the police report. 

 I think I should have trusted my gut that entire day when I just assumed he was sleeping off his drunkenness at one of his "friends" house. I should have trusted my gut when I kept calling and my calls went straight to voicemail when that rarely ever happens. I should have trusted my gut when it was past 5 pm on February 22nd and we still had not heard back from him. I should have trusted my gut when we started reaching out to family members to see if they had heard from him. I should have trusted my gut…….but I waited. Waited until I was almost going to bed. I waited, trying to push down the all too familiar feeling I had experienced before. Ignoring  that gut tugging feeling I had been experiencing the entire day. Hopeful that he had not put me and my family through this again. Hopeful. That's the thing about hope, we hold onto to it as much as possible to make ourselves feel better, ignoring the inevitable truth. The pending the doom that lies ahead. 

I opened my web browser and search "Ventura county inmate information." I put his name and it popped up. No longer was I able to ignore my gut instinct. No longer was I able to be naive and hopeful. I knew that he had been arrested. I feigned indifference and let my brother and mom know. Boy had things changed. The news of my dad's multiple DUI + arrest's were always told to me. This time around, as the adult of the family, I was the one breaking the news. This time around I was the one that had to control my emotions. I had to stand stoic when all I wanted to do was stop what I was cooking, lock myself in my room and cry. Cry because this was not the first time it happened, cry because he refused to learn, cry because his alcohol addiction had plagued my life since I could remember, cry because he never thought of how this would affect us. Cry, cry, cry.  

I made myself numb like I had done so many times, wishing that my dad never had to be so addicted to alcohol that he could not go a couple of days without drinking. Wishing that my dad did not make the stupid decision of drinking and driving. Wishing that he had not put me and my family through this situation again, But he did.

February 22, 2016. I thought it was going to be like the multiple times when we bailed him out and he'd come home without  speaking of the incident. Where he would come home on bail and he would try to clean up his act and not drink. Thinking and assuming. 

Februrary 22, 2016 was not the same. February 22, 2016 was the day that will be ingrained in my mind. February 22, 2016 was just the beginning. There would be and are still more court dates. First with the Ventura County and now with ICE. February 22, 2016 was the beginning of my dad's incarceration that has cast an unpredictable unknown of his status here in the US. So much has happened. February 22, 2016 feels like a lifetime ago. At 24 years old I am the one responsible to deal with any and all of my dad's legal issues, my brother and mom turning to me for guidance and information. For them I have to be stoic and show no sign of breaking down. No emotions. 

February 23, 2016 was the day that I finally let myself cry in the confinement of my room while everyone was asleep. Finally able to release all the emotions I had held during the day. Every night the lights turn off, the house goes quite, my family falls asleep and like clockwork I cry. I cry in the darkness  of my room, never allowing my family to know the pain that I carry every day for the dad I love and miss.