“Sometimes I ask myself why I was put on the face of this earth to live this unwanted life of mine. I’ve been asking myself this question for a pretty long time now.
This confusion began at the age of eight when I had to wake up every morning by myself, comb my hair, put my wrinkled clothes on, eat breakfast and send myself to school. See, by the time I woke up, everybody in my house was gone. My mom had already left for work, my brother had caught his school bus and my dad—well he wasn’t in the picture. He had left us for another woman.
I still remember the day he left. My mom begged him to stay, but he would not listen. In fact I think he got annoyed by my mom’s screaming and shouting. Damn, she suffered. She cried days and nights for him, praying he would come back to us.
My dad was never there
After that, my dad was never there. When my school had Open House, my mom was too tired from work to go and my dad never showed up. I always had to tag along with my friends and their parents because I had no one to take. The night before I performed in drill team, I prayed he’d come. Sometimes he came to see me, but at other times he was too busy with his girlfriend. To make up for the times he missed a performance, he visited me on weekends, but it just wasn’t the same.
Actually it seemed as if he would only come to visit me because neither my mom or my brother wanted to see him. They were angry at him for leaving.
Somehow we all adjusted to the loss. My mom got remarried and had another baby. My brother withdrew into himself. I got a job and spent every weekend with my friends. As I started my senior year, I was so busy I didn’t see much of either of my parents. I was happy that way. Seeing my dad was a hassle, since he lived almost an hour away from L.A. Besides, I knew that if I went over to my dad’s house, he wouldn’t let me go out.
My senior year was the year I had been looking forward to all my life—Prom, Grad night, Homecoming, barbecues, boyfriends, and all the fun I could possibly have.
Reality bites
Then reality hit me. It happened during fourth period at school. I got 10 or 15 pages on my pager. All of them said 911 along with my cousin’s phone number. I called and found out that my dad was in the hospital. The doctors couldn’t find what was wrong with him. I couldn’t believe it. In fact, I told my cousin, “Ha, it’s probably no biggie. I’ll go down to see him this weekend.”
When I got home from school, my uncle was waiting for me to go visit my dad. I got in the car, no questions asked. I told myself I’d probably be back the same night, so I didn’t need clothes. I was so wrong.
When I walked into the hospital lobby, all the faces looked unfamiliar and sad. I searched the room for a while I found my aunt. Then a tall man called out “Family members of Fernando Barrera.” I rushed over, my aunt and my dad’s girlfriend close behind. He pulled us into a hallway. From the look on his face, I knew it was something serious. His first words were “I’m sorry I can’t stay for long, but Fernando needs to be operated on right away.” He asked if I was his daughter. I just nodded my head yes. He said “His bladder has exploded and all the fluids that were there made their way up to his chest and are now giving him problems breathing. We also found a cancerous tumor.”
After that, the whole world completely stopped for me. I saw the doctor’s lips moving. My aunt and dad’s girlfriend hugging each other crying, but I couldn’t hear anything. It was as if I had become a zombie. I turned around and walked out while the doctor was talking. Nobody followed because I guess they realized I wanted to be alone. I went for a two-hour walk, wondering why God was so cruel. Why now? In the middle of what was supposed to be my best year?
When I returned to the lobby, I found coffee, donuts and the good news that my dad’s operation went well. After hearing that, I lay down on a sofa to sleep.
The next morning I was able to see the dad I almost lost. He had tubes everywhere, from his nose, mouth, arms and legs. I spent 3-4 hours with him, reminiscing about my childhood.
My dad spent two weeks in intensive care recovering from the operation. After another week he was finally released. My entire family was happy that he was being released after only the third week, when the doctor had expected his recovery to take longer. My dad fooled everybody with his smile but I knew that underneath he wasn’t happy.
I think that my dad feels his time is running out. About a week after he got out of the hospital, he got married in a simple ceremony. He bought a house and is trying to pay off some property in Mexico. Now that he’s begun chemotherapy and his body is changing, life has changed for him—and for me too.
I starting seeing him a lot
Before finding out that my dad had cancer, I saw my dad about twice a month. If he didn’t come see me, I wouldn’t bother to go. I was too busy going out with my friends and working. Now I go up to my dad’s house almost every weekend, putting my friends aside. I quit my job. I don’t worry or even care if he lets me go out while I’m visiting.
During Thanksgiving I had three days off from school and instead of spending it with my mom as in the past, I spent it with my dad for the first time.
When I told my dad over the phone that I was going to spend Thanksgiving with him, he was so happy that I thought he was going to cry. When I got to his house, he took me grocery shopping. I guess he wanted to have a father-daughter day. When we were in the Food-4-Less parking lot, he asked me if I would feel embarrassed if he took his hat off. See, by this time, the chemotherapy had caused his hair to fall out. I felt so emotional, I couldn’t answer. I just got out of the car and went into the store.
I cried myself to sleep
That same night I cried myself to sleep. He made me realize how much I loved him and how there was nothing, absolutely nothing in the world I could do to help him. I was seeing the man whom I love the most slip through my hands.
I can’t imagine my world without him. I mean, who am I going to turn to when I need advice about something? Yes, I do have my mom and a lot of friends, but not even a thousand moms and friends can take the place of a father.
Every night, I still cry myself to sleep praying that God will let me have my dad for another day. I am filled with anger and confusion. Maybe one day I’ll understand the ups and downs that life brings, although right now my main concern is not going out with friends or having a job, but making sure I spent as much time as possible with my dad, before it is too late!!!”