Wednesday, September 23, 2009 10:24 PM
I’ve decided to start writing series of my stories and moments of my life with my son - the times I get to cherish the most. I’m writing these not to prove any point, not to confess to any situation or moment, but to simply, tell a story, to tell the moments. I’ll start at the earliest point I can remember, in my own perspective. I will be as honest as possible and try not to leave out any details.
To begin the story, my name is Ray Linder. I live in a beautiful place called Cornfields, AZ next to a mountain ridge and in front a seasonal wash/river with a lot of trees. I have a son, Ray Linder Jr. known as “Lil Ray” who is 8 years old who lives in California with his mother. He is the only child I have. The last time I’ve seen him was when he was just a baby at 3 years old in Vallejo, CA. During that time years ago, I had a bit of an anger problem and would easily get upset. I rarely drank and had never got drunk during those times, but the anger came from not being able to handle many issues of life and lack of experience of dealing with people in general. I consider myself to be a good man, and a good and honest person. But sometimes had found myself finding things to get upset. My son’s mother and I got along occasionally, but not as often. We had more arguments than I can remember – some my fault and some hers. I wasn’t confident enough to get a job, which more people considered me too damn lazy to go out and find one. Jobs seemed to be scarce, but expectations was still upon me to find a job. No, I didn’t always just sit around the apartment doing nothing everyday. Guess I wasn’t as skilled, experienced, or educated enough.
It was the night, the last time I would see him, the night I was kicked out of the apartment, California, her life, and my son’s life. It was the Spring of 2004, the last I would see my son. I moved to Tucson, AZ and stayed with friends who were kind enough to help me and rebuild my confidence. It was a new beginning, but also a new end. It wasn’t peaches and cream, it was hard, touch, and stressful work. Through that time, I would stop at the grocery store, buy a phone card, and call my son. No luck. She would answer and argue. There have been times I would be able to hear him on the phone, talk to him, and listen to his baby talk. Moments I’ll always remember and cherish.
I will admit that I didn’t stay in contact with him as I should have. I’ve even tried to put him out of my mind to avoid any drama with his mother, but then I would have dreams about him and wake up wondering where he was – really not a pleasant feeling. I can’t see how any son-less, selfish fathers can forget about their sons. I know, I’ve tried and it’s just more pain. I’m glad and proud that I never took up drinking, drugs, pills, or any other common “pain reliever” and I thank God for that. But I did bury myself in my computer, in my work, but not enough to drive me crazy or leave out people around me that cared about me. I do spare time for them.
I sparsely kept in contact up until a year ago when then I called again hoping that I’d stick out the drama just so I can get any chance to speak to him again. Visits were out of the question and if I could visit, can it would have to be supervised – all purely by only her orders. I never seen the point in that. Well, at first everything was fine. I’d call, I would talk to him and hear him again. He wouldn’t really say anything, either too scared, too shy, or just didn’t really know who was on the phone. I would say a few words, something that would interest him, but nothing. I figured if I just called frequently, he’d open up a little. Didn’t work out as I continued to call once, twice, or 3 times a week, she would answer the phone and gradually started arguing until it all got to the point where there was no point in calling anymore, just more arguments - again.
So now, I’m trying again. I’m way too “unfortunate” for a lawyer, not crazy enough to just take him away myself, but to just hope. Hope that one day I’ll get to see him again.
I’m going to share my experiences every time I call him, talk to him, or hopefully – hang out with him, his grandpa, and his great grandpa fishing one day. Even if I just leave a message on the phone and no one picks up, I may just post that.
I know this will help me understand not only myself, but to understand my son, to remember, and to cherish the moments.