Dad's Gaming Addiction

My parents divorced when I was young.  I don’t remember the details much, just that they eventually met new people and remarried.  I first saw Karl in the sixth or seventh grade standing next to my mom in the parking lot of my school.  She was waiting to pick me up and likewise, he was waiting to pick up his daughter who also happened to be my classmate.  Later, my younger brother and I were introduced to the term, “joint custody”.  It was through our visits to what came to be “Mom & Karl’s Place” that I started to learn who he was.  I’ll admit, it was a rocky start.

At first, I didn’t know what to make of the man.  He was vastly different from my biological father.  It took some time to get to know his mannerisms, his preferences, and what pissed him off.  He had less of a filter that I didn’t come to appreciate until I was much older.  I certainly didn’t make it easy for him and I wish 43 year old me could slap some sense into 13 year old me in order to cut Karl some slack.  While I do remember his temper, I also remember the time he jumped a McDonald’s playground fence to come to my brother’s aid when a bully twice his size had pushed him to the ground.  He was no-nonsense tough, but he was also passionate and loyal to the people he cared about.

Fast forward 25+ or so years later to around the time the first wave of COVID was ending.  It was also the time I started noticing my mom’s health deteriorate.  She had mid-stage dementia at that point.  When COVID was past and masks came off, we begin setting up regular meetups to catch up on lost time.  Sure, we’d meet once/twice a year prior for holidays but these new meetups would end up being once a month and eventually in 2024, once a week.  We’d make our customary trip to the “China Buffet” or they’d come over where I’d cook a generous helping of something.  As an Italian, it had to be “generous”.

My mom’s health got worse this year and it took its toll on Karl.  He did everything he could to keep her as happy and comfortable as possible despite her condition.  Even if she sometimes lashed out or seemed cold and distant, he stuck by her.  While he was tired when he came over to visit with mom every weekend, he still found time to “fix” things around the house.  I’m not handy…like, at all…and he was a mechanic in the Air Force.  Here he was, a tired man in his 70’s, fixing things here or there as he saw them.  As a result, I kept his coffee coming in his customary Darth Vader mug…creamer, no sweetener.  I was preparing for our next get-together when I got the knock at my front door, where three police-men were waiting to speak to me.  I’ll get back to that.

About three weeks before Karl passed away, I told him (as we were installing my basement railing) that he was like a father to me.  He looked at me in shock as we had never really openly talked about stuff like that but he did manage to get out a “you’re welcome.”  I saw that deep down, it meant much more to him than that.  When I attempted to reconnect with my real father, all I got was a “we’ll see” and “one step at a time”…that was over a year ago.  Karl made the effort to see me every weekend and take care of us when we needed help.  Karl taught me that real fathers, even if they have disagreements with their kids, still make the effort to connect with them.  Karl and consequently, my biological father, (from a yin/yang standpoint) are the reason I reach out to Vinnie Jr. regularly to make sure that he’s okay.

I had a moment of shock when the police officers told me that an incident had occurred and that I was needed to go get my mother.  I spoke to a dispatcher via phone on the front lawn and got more information.  It felt like a dream and time seemed to pass very quickly even though it hadn’t.  I allowed myself to go into shock for all of three seconds, but then remembered that my mom, a late-stage dementia patient, was now alone with neighbors/police officers and she needed my help.  I was numb when I got inside the house and told Aidalee the news.  We promptly left to go to what I still call, “Mom and Karl’s Place”.

Today, 7/21/2024, was Karl’s funeral.  A lot of people showed up in mixed states of emotion.  Many were sad.  Aidalee was angry.  Some were still in shock.  I’ve reflected…a lot.  This past week I learned that I deal with stress and trauma by staying hyper-focused on my responsibilities.  Mom still needs me and I can’t become depressed, sad, or whatever else I’m supposed to feel right now.  People are depending on me to get things done and in a strange way, this sense of responsibility is comforting.  I know I’ll need to grieve, but it’ll be at a more appropriate time.  For now, this dedication will have to do.

Karl had a big heart and wasn’t afraid to socialize with strangers.  He also buckled down and got things done without openly complaining about it. We may have had a rocky start, but I eventually regarded him as the best step-father one could ever ask for.  Taking care of my mom in her current state couldn’t have been easy these past few years but the fact that he did shows his true character.  He will be greatly missed by all who knew him.  I will miss him.

Thank you, Karl.  For everything.

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“Death is that state in which one exists only in the memory of others…which is why it is not an end. No goodbyes. Just good memories.”

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