Life as a Daughter of Agent Orange, Part 6

Later this week my dad will be going into surgery to fix a problem caused by him not following post-surgery orders nearly a year ago (that is a chapter all on its own!). With this surgery looming on the horizon, I keep thinking about my past as his daughter. I see how far I have come since I left for England six years ago on the 22nd of January. Those six months were exactly what I needed; they allowed me to grow as an adult in a way I never would have experienced if I had stayed home. For the first time I was able to go where I wanted whenever I wanted without parental permission or explaining why I was leaving. I walked nearly everywhere in Newcastle and felt like one of the locals most of the time (except for when I opened my mouth to speak). Being in such a beautiful city with lovely people, I was free to detox from all the years of negativity. My study abroad group went on several excursions and aside from those, I visited a few places on my own. The countryside of Scotland was by far my favorite; I lost myself in the rolling hills dotted with sheep. I admit I was scared the first time I went to a new town all on my own with no form of backup, but that fear was simply because I had never been given the gift of exploration as a child. Once I found out I could travel on my own in a foreign country, my wings took off and my spirit soared.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. There were a few rough patches, but I was able to get through them with the support of my mom. The one gift I wanted while I was in England was to have my mom come visit me during my month-long spring break. I wanted to show her the land I was falling in love with and to see what I had the pleasure and blessing to see. At that time mom was still working and Dad's control issues were starting to spiral out of control. My heart was bruised when Mom had to tell me Dad was not allowing her to visit me in England—his excuse was since she was the sole provider what would happen to him and my sister if something happened to her while abroad. He forgot that anything could happen at any time, even on the drive to work! His need to control stemmed from his time in Vietnam and because he never dealt with it, he took an amazing experience away from Mom and I. Mom eventually shared with me she really wanted to go and regretted listening to him and not visiting me. I was bitter about his manipulation for a couple of years, but then I learned to pity him—his need for control was so far out of control his family was starting to spiral away from him.

When I returned from England, it was around Father's Day—my gift to him was my return. I felt lost for months; I had left my soul land (similar to a soul mate, but about a place instead of a person) across the Pond and I was back under his control. No longer could I walk everywhere without having to give an explanation. Thankfully work kept me busy that summer and then my last three semesters of school began. I enjoyed being thrown back into school since it kept me out of the house and gave my mind something positive to focus on, but it was another avenue of escape. When I graduated in December of 2013, I did not know if my dad was proud of me as I had known in 2010. Even though I had made excellent grades and did not come out of college having lost my mental independence, it was a mystery to me. I was proud of my accomplishments, but for some reason that was not enough. There were a couple of military men I knew from visiting my mom at her work, and in my mind I had adopted them as father figures. They seemed to be everything Dad was not and would vocalize their pride in me. After graduation and not having a reason to visit Mom at work (we had carpooled for my college years), those relationships dwindled. At first I was angry because once again men showed me they were all like my own dad, but I came to realize they were exactly what I needed right when I needed them. I had to learn how to have my own pride be enough.

After graduation, I honestly did not know what to do with my life. I really wanted to continue with my education with graduate school and I knew I wanted to earn it back in England or Scotland. So, while I was applying to graduate programs, I left my town's grocery store and went to a different grocery chain. I know, leaving one store for another; I thought the grass was greener and in some ways it has been. I did not expect to work there for long because of my applications to graduate school. After being turned down a couple of times, I was accepted to the University of Stirling in Stirling, Scotland. The town was one I had visited on several occasions and I loved everything about it. I was thrilled to be going off once again and to escape Dad for a year! Then, soon after getting my good news, Dad suddenly lost the sight in one of his eyes. We did not know if he would get it back or if it would be gone permanently. The doctor had told us that in three to five years Dad was going to be either totally blind or on dialysis (both because of the effects of the diabetes). It was also unclear as to what other conditions could pop up and how serious they could be.

I prayed a lot about what to do and I decided to rescind my acceptance. One of the most difficult tasks I have ever undertaken was writing to the admissions officer and informing them of my family's situation. I did not know if something worse would happen while I was gone and if Dad passed (because that is what we all thought was going to happen), I could not afford the plane ticket home. So, after making that decision I applied to a Bible school in Texas I had been desiring to attend for a few years; even though I was a late applicant, I was accepted. It was after my acceptance that Dad's eye was fixed—fixed too late for me to go to Scotland. I rushed into the temporary move to Texas; even though it was something I had desired, looking back, I was not psychologically ready for the program.

I was angry at Dad for having lost his eyesight right when I was accepted to graduate school and then gaining it back after I drastically changed plans. If he had simply been in control of his Agent Orange-caused diabetes, everything would be different now. But he has never been a smart diabetic and taken care of himself. He loved sweets, pasta, breads, anything a diabetic should not have he loved. Why did my family not try to get him to change you ask? We did not want to fight about food on a near daily basis. There had been times where I would throw away the junk food he bought, but then he would just go out and buy some more. I would try to encourage him to change his eating habits, but he would raise his voice at me and tell me to shut up and leave him alone. He is a grown man and can make his own decisions; unfortunately he has never considered how his actions ripple down to the rest of us. Speaking of ripples, that entire summer the tension in the house was astounding. It seemed as if every time I opened my mouth he would snap at me; I felt like I was the root of all the problems in the house. During those long summer months, the way he treated my mom grew worse and worse. He would make crude sexual remarks about her or try to grope her in front of my sister and I; when I would step in and tell him to not treat my mom that way, there came the harsh words of, "shut up, this is none of your business!"

Unfortunately for him, if it happened in front of me it was my business. As a woman it became my business; as a daughter, I was not going to let him disrespect my mom like she was a heifer and allow her to think that was acceptable behavior. My mom was starting to become a victim of verbal, emotional, and psychological abuse and I was terrified to leave for Texas. I broke down in tears with my adoptive mom in Minnesota at a preteen camp because I was afraid for my mom—I did not know what Dad was capable of doing with me gone for months, and my little sister was not in a position of maturity to stick up for mom as I would have done. I was encouraged to go because my adoptive mom had faith my mom could make it and would speak up for herself. So, the day after a Comic-Con convention, I pulled out of the driveway for Texas.

Stay tuned for part 7.