As self-gratifying as it might be, many have asked. So in my defense, the story was requested. Be careful what you wish for. Happy stories are subjective and happy endings are strictly within the control of the maker.
I was born in 1970. Yes, that makes me 36 years old...today in fact. Happy birthday to me. My mother and father were both 15 years old. As such, I was adopted at birth into another family. Doug and Carole Long would be the parents I would know to grow up. I would call Kathy, Barb and Peter siblings. I was the only adopted child and destined to be the ultimate black sheep. I was always the smallest in my class as a grade school student and I got bullied accordingly. I was a particularly sensitive child and these years would begin a long career of cynicism and anger. When I was 8, my father left the family and ended his marriage. By the age of 10, my parents had divorced and my father had moved into a new relationship. I did not handle things well and I became what the rest of my family would describe in therapy as a problem child. I remember one 'group session' in which my family was asked what they deemed was the problem and every one of my siblings pointed at me. I will remember it forever.
When I was 8, I also came across a new friend at school. His name was Blair Mackenzie and he would become my best friend. For all my idiosyncracies, his loyalty never wavered. I named one of my sons after him. The time I spent with his family was a much needed refuge from the strange turbulence at home and his parents can easily be qualified as my third set of parents. Colleen and Hamish offered guidance that has proven invaluable in my life. At 15 I would have my heart truly broken for the first time and it would not be the last time. I seem to have developed a talent for mistreating women and getting hurt. By the time I was 17 I had started experimenting with a variety of drugs and my anger had grown to leviathan proportions. I was highly intelligent, highly naive and feared everything.
It was at this age that my eldest sister Kathy committed suicide. She was a kindred spirit with a mutual hatred for the breed of humanity, but I had a greed in my soul which cannot be attributed to her. Her loss would cause repercussions in my life both unexpected and immeasurable... and to this day.
Shortly afterwards, my mother would decide that life with me was too much to bear and she returned to BC to tend to her ailing father and mother. My brother, who didn't particularly like me (and probably with good cause), and I were left alone in the 'family' house with my father (living outside of the city limits) as our financial benefactor. I put myself through grades 12 and 13 - and succeeded!
I graduated high school at the age of 18 with a record number of 40 credits and a cocaine habit to the tune of nearly $10000. I voluntarily and autonomously went into rehabilation and came out clean of all drugs in only one month . . . almost.
My friendship with a young man named Todd Kowalik, which had started about the same time I befriended Blair had been sporadic in the past but had since become very solid. I will list him as probably my best friend of all time and his patience, wisdom and generosity would be instrumental in helping me through some of the most difficult emotional times of my life.
I entered university with high hopes. That would change.
I had begun the process of meeting my genetic mother. After a brief requisite period of counselling with the Children's Aid Society, we were introduced in person. Ask me more about this story some time. Our first telephone conversation alone was a hilarious story.
I found a lot of solace in this new relationship. My whole (genetic) family was just like me. They were all short (very short - in fact, compared to most of them, I am tall!), and had extra-curricular pharmaceutical habits that were tantamount to my own. I fit in nicely, for the first time in my life. Things were looking up and the development of a relationship with my genetic mother and the rest of my family was invaluable in helping me learn to accept myself. Even better, I had a little brother!
A career of bad relationships in which I regularly cheated on girlfriends was well under way and I would be several years to learn to be a better person. When I was 21 years old, Blair Mackenzie was killed in a car accident. I had been estranged from him for almost two years, but never had our loyalty and friendship been lost. We helped each other through second year algebra. Todd showed up at the carwash where I was working part-time and insisted that I attend the wake which I had decided to forego. Blair's current group of friends didn't exactly approve of me. Upon arrival, the line-up was out to the street and I was immediately brought by Ross (Blair's elder brother and my traditional nemesis) to the family receiving line. Colleen looked at me with an anguish like I had never seen, forced a little smile and then whispered in my ear through silent tears, "I knew you would come,.... I knew YOU would come." I was asked to remain with the family for the rest of the wake. At only 21, the relevant death toll in my life was already at two and I went careening downhill. Although I did not start taking hard drugs again, I was living a horribly depressed and self-destructive lifestyle. Infidelity and promiscuity became a way of life.
With slow eventuality, I graduated university and entered the working world. My first real job was as a service advisor at a Ford service outlet. I was so miserable in this profession that I became seriously and regularly ill until I was eventually laid off. A summer of pogey was all I could stand. However, it was the summer that women won the right to go topless in public in Ontario and I spent the summer with binoculars on local beaches. I didn't see much. I returned to work as a disk jockey, full-time, in an exotic dance club. The result was the final (and inevitable) demise of my relationship with Melanie.
I enjoyed this work. It was fun, made me popular with many of my friends and, quite lucrative. It was in a club in Ottawa that I would meet my eventual wife. Jennifer and I would be wed within a year of meeting each other and I became father to her one-year-old son, Rory. His real father was estranged to them for various legal reasons, although, I should have seen Jennifer's behaviour towards him as a red flag against things to come. I chose to ignore those signals and wed in October of 1998.
Jennifer and I had a whirlwind romance and a marriage to match. Almost immediately following our marriage, we impulsively decided to quit our jobs and go live in Daytona Beach, Florida where I had been offered work as a disk jockey in both an exotic dance club and a famous local saloon. I actually met Shaq and Flea (from the Red Hot Chili Peppers) in these venues while I was there. In the first month we were there, the house which we had rented burned to the ground and we were temporarily moved to a condo on the strip. Exciting, but not a great place to raise a child. The house was rebuilt and we returned to our suburban rental. After one year living and working in Daytona, we had become so disillusioned with American people and culture, that we made a near financial escape from the country, but not before we exhausted the entire of the inheritance money I had accrued from my father. We returned to Canada as a fledgling family, penniless and bereft.
We decided to move to BC. After a year in Florida, Ottawa weather was less than appealing and I was equally bereft in both Provinces, so why not go where it was warm. It is poignant to note that my loyal dog of 11 years, Pooch, died within days of our departure to BC, in my arms on New Years Eve millenium. Jennifer, Rory and myself arrived in BC in early January and my adopted mother helped us get on our feet. Jennifer took waittressing jobs and after an agonizing job search, I managed to get part-time DJ work in three clubs to make ends meet. To all outward appearances, we were very happy. I thought we were very happy and we had two more sons: Blair in November 2000 and Milo in July 2002. Unfortunately, before 2004 would come, Jennifer would become so unhappy in our relationship (of which she kept me completely oblivious) that she would have a sexual affair with one of her fellow employees at the cellular call-centre where she had taken work. She was emotionally violent towards me in ending our marriage. She had spent my entire second inheritance to pay off a debt on our car which she would ultimately give to the new boyfriend. Once again, I was penniless and emotionally bereft but I managed to maintain full-joint custody and the boys remain a beacon of love, hope and joy in my life.
I had begun a very rewarding career as an instructor at a private college. First I taught ESL and later I taught teachers in the domestic/international TESL program. I am taking a hiatus from that career this year to study at University again. I intend to return, however, as I love my work. My employment at the college also luckily afforded me the opportunity to do my first professional work as a book editor. Keep your eyes open for my name in print. I had also begun a fledgling career as an amateur actor in local Shakespearean productions and would be heralded by local media with some fanfare to my surprise and absolute delight. I have future aspirations in this field as well. It was a production of Hamlet where I would meet another important friend whom you all know as Alex the Dog. (Mom thinks he's smokin' hot - I don't see it!)
During this time in BC, I underwent several other personal tragedies, however. One of my twin cousins was killed in a car accident when she was 21 and I was honoured and agonized to be asked to eulogize her. The Patry family was torn apart. When the family began to recover, we were shocked again by the unexpected death of my Grandmother, Terry. She was an important family matriarch and the family was torn asunder again. Terry's death came at a time when I was still suffering at the hands of a brutal marital break-up and I was left barley able to stand. My boss gave me a generous, paid 'mental leave' to try and get on my feet. I managed. My father always said to me that I should be proud of who I am because through all my tribulation, I am a true survivor.
Shortly after my marriage broke up, I met Amelia. In the beginning, this relationship would be turbulent to say the least, but ultimately has proven to be the greatest learning experience of my life for which I am truly a better man. She is intelligent, beautiful, loving and completely insane. Together, we raise her son Cainan full-time and my three part-time (every second week as per my joint custody). This chapter of my life is, as yet, unfinished.......
Truth is stranger than fiction. Be careful what you wish for.
See you in hell,
Shakes.
