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"Life always offers you a second chance, it's called tomorrow...the past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited, or erased...it can only be accepted."

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Kenny Loggins and the best days of my life



I was within 5 feet of Kenny Loggins yesterday. I watched his sound check for a private show he was doing…and for almost an hour, got to just stare and listen. I’m still beside myself…and I’m counting myself lucky that I didn’t pass out when he walked into the room. My boyfriend is absolutely amazing and gave me a head’s up that he was going to be in Cleveland yesterday…so I hung around his work to see if I could get a glimpse. It was beyond amazing…to a level that I can’t even put into words.
                I should probably give a little explanation as to why Kenny Loggins is someone I idolize more than I can say. Between Kenny Loggins and James Taylor…I have some crazy great memories of my dad. The good memories seem to be far and few between these days…except when I hear music that reminds me of him. Those are the few good memories…and something that still connects me to the dad I once knew. They remind me of days on the boat, crazy nights by the bonfire in the backyard, and the times where bands would practice in our basement. All 3 stories of his house would be SHAKING from “Footloose” or “I’m Alright” blasting in the basement.
                His songs calm me down…and make me smile whether I like it or not. That is REAL music…unlike the crap they put on the radio these days. Music that makes you want to sing at the top of your lungs…and jump around dancing. I have an entire Pandora station dedicated to Loggins…and I’ve had it on in the car and at home for the last 24 hours nonstop.
                I need to focus on those good memories and I know it. I can feel myself drifting farther and farther away from any kind of connection I held with my father. I can’t tell if it’s a defense mechanism or if I’m honestly just losing compassion for the situation. When I think about it, I get sad…but even more…I realize how exhausted I am by the whole thing. This has been a long long fight. People keep saying they can’t wait for the trial to be over…and it makes me want to scream. I’m sure they want it over like I do…but this is so much more to some people. It’s not just a trial…it’s a lifetime of hurt with no kind of validation. My father hurt so many people in so many different ways…and never had to face consequences. I lived with him for 15 years (give or take)…and never got any kind of justice for the things that happened. This is finally the chance to see that he isn’t invincible…and is finally being held accountable for what he’s done.
                Oh well…I’m going in like 30 different directions on this post…and I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe the coffee…yea probably the coffee.
                Anyways…there was something that I wanted to post about. It’s been on my mind since I was in class last Thursday. It’s kind of a long story, but the main idea was something a teacher did. I told her I needed to take a week off of class in October, and I didn’t tell her why. I said it was a family obligation out of state…because I didn’t see the need for her to know all of the details of my father’s trial. This woman went on a tangent…about how it wouldn’t be an excused absence for “vacation” and how I needed to take my classes more seriously. When I tried to (calmly might I add) defend myself…she flew off the handle. She told me that I was just a young girl…who was privileged and never had to work for anything because I was “pretty.” I wanted to lose it on her. Wanted to yell right back at her that the whole reason I had to take time off was so I could go to Florida to watch my FATHER be sent to PRISON. But I didn’t. I didn’t go on about always wondering if my father was going to make it another day without attempting suicide again, or getting calls from reporters who want to know about how much of a monster he is…hell I didn’t even tell her how it feels to have to lie to my little brothers and sister so they don’t know that their father is a psycho who had to be locked up. Instead I kept my mouth shut, and walked out of the room. I returned later with my card with this website on it…and told her to give it a look. If she still thought I was such a privileged little girl that had never had to work hard or fight for anything after reading it…I would be glad to withdrawal from her class.
                I like to share what has happened in my life not only because it helps me unwind and process…kind of a therapy. But also because I hope that someone else will get some kind of help from it. Whether that is knowing what NOT to do…or taking inspiration from the fact that it DOES get better…I want to help. And I’ve gotten so many emails, comments, etc. from people saying that is has helped them in some way.
                I put on a strong happy front no matter what. Very rarely will people know that something is wrong. Hell…many of my friends have no idea what’s going on with my dad. No one in my classes knows, and I’m not one to go telling someone I don’t know.  Those who haven’t seen this blog would have no way of knowing all the hell breaking loose in my family life. In a way I’m thankful for that…but at the same time it gets frustrating sometimes. I’ll go to give someone advice on something they’re going through…and they don’t want to take me seriously…because after all, I’m 21, what do I know? They have no idea that I’ve dealt with things and seen things in the last 20 years that many never do. Now don’t get me wrong…I’m beyond thankful for those experiences (as I’ve written about in the past) because it has all gotten me to where I am, and has made me who I am. I have inner strength because of it all, and it’s helped me fight through many situations that others would have given up over.
                My life has been anything but perfect. Sometimes I forget (or don’t want to admit) things that have happened. I block them out, and looking back on it, I feel like I’m watching the movie of someone else’s life. But it was so worth it. Look at my life now. If you take out the situation with my dad, prison, etc…it really couldn’t be much better. I’m beyond blessed, and beyond thankful. A lot of people say the “best days of your life” are in high school and when you’re a kid. But I don’t believe it for a second. The best days of your life are when you find yourself…and are comfortable in your own skin. When you finally allow yourself to work hard, and play harder. Finding the balance between responsibility and the things that make you happy. The day you take risks because you see a better life around the corner…and you’re willing to fight for it. That’s when you’re officially in those best days…and for me…that seems to be right now.

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