Like I had said before, I left Rita when Brandon was about 2 years old. I had moved to California with an agreement with his mother that he could come to visit every 6 months, etc. Of course, she reneged on that agreement and then moved back to St. John’s with him. She didn’t care less if I saw him again or not, but I wasn’t giving up that easy, I returned to Edmonton to try and get a written agreement, which I never could get. When she moved back, I did as well, I wanted to be near my son. Traveling back and forth from Edmonton to St. John’s was not viable, but Edmonton to California costs only $200 airfare, quite manageable, but that fell through.
I got to see Brandon every weekend, with a few hiccups here and there. I was able to get back in court to address the amount of child support I was supposed to pay. Luckily, the judge agreed, it was too much for one child and lowered it to a reasonable amount.
His mom and I never really got along, we hardly talked, and she would never call me about anything to do with him. Brandon never talked about his mom, so I was in the dark with anything that was happening to him growing up. She resented me from day one when Brandon was born, the sad part, she resented Brandon just as much and showed him accordingly.
So apparently, Brandon told me during an argument (more about that towards the end of this post) that had been defending me since he was 6 years old, first of all, no kid should be having to defend anyone at that age, she would tell him what a monster, asshole I was etc. and he would say no, I wasn’t, and to which, I was not to him, I never mistreated him, never raised a hand to him, everything was fine, or so I thought.
For the most part, things went on without incident for many years, except, one day I get a call from his stepfather saying they wanted Brandon gone from his house because he had found him in bed with a girl from across the street having unprotected sex. I didn’t hesitate and came to his house right away, having to listen to Paul saying how he wanted to beat the shit out of Brandon, luckily, I kept my cool and left with Brandon.
Everything seemed to be fine, got him enrolled into school in Mt. Pearl, he joined the basketball team etc. It was great having him around on a daily basis, his brother enjoyed hanging out with him. Felt great sitting around the table eating as a family, I could not have been happier.
He went home for Christmas one year, and his Xbox was having the red light of death, so I had ordered some parts to fix it. Meanwhile, Paul had bought him one for Christmas, and I told him, leave that one there and I would fix the one he had, apparently, that was the first step in him wanting to move back home.
One day, Brandon grabbed his supper and went to leave the table, I said: “Where are you going”? He said he wanted to eat downstairs, unusual, but nothing too out of the ordinary. He was quiet for about a week or so, until one day, he went to Basketball practice, then came home and said he quit, apparently, he wanted to change schools, even though he lived less than a 5-minute walk from his current school. Not knowing he was working on a plan with his mom, totally behind my back.
The next day, he came home and said he was going to Holy Heart? Apparently, even though he was in my care, he got his mom to take him out of the Mt. Pearl school and enrolled him in Holy Heart. Even though, the school never even contacted me about what was going on, not even a single phone call. She abused the fact that she had a court order from years ago and despite the fact that she through him to the curb (I believe it had more to do with the fact that she was getting married than what I was told happened). I called her up and said why would you move him from his school without even talking to me first, she pulled the court order card, of course, and after a short fight, she said he wanted to move back home and go to school with his friends. I had no choice really and told her to come and get him, I was pissed, to say the least.
I think he may have been bullied at O’Donnell, as he was a jock and also in the choir, I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard someone yell faggot one day when I was picking him up, he never said anything, so I thought I had misheard. Hindsight is 20/20 and before I knew it, everything had spiraled out of control. He had met a girl and was on the phone with her all the time, he said he liked her a lot, but apparently not enough to stay where he was and was moving back to his mom’s house in the east end in St. John’s.
Time passed and everything went back to normal until one day I was looking at Facebook and saw a post with Brandon and his buddies drinking beer! I was pissed and called him to remind him that he shouldn’t be posting him drinking with his underage buddies. Well, apparently, his mom told him it was ok for him to drink underage? Well, I lost it, told him, just imagine telling the cop who is arresting you for underage drinking that, hey, it’s ok, my mom said I could do it! How about what the judge will say when you testify that you were breaking the law because your mom said it was ok to do so! Well, I could hear his mom in the background egging him on, and after that conversation. I was trying to explain to him that if he were charged, they could very well try him as an adult, thereby him having a record that would follow him the rest of his life. He would have trouble getting a good job, crossing the border, etc. He decided that he wouldn’t talk to me for 7 months, only after I contacted one of his ex-girlfriends, and she talked to him did he finally give in and start talking to me again. I was more concerned with his brother, whom he doesn’t talk to hardly at all as it is. Aiden sent him a text with Happy Birthday, and his response, thank you, that was it, no how are you doing, nothing, Aiden felt like shit and he was upset for about a week after that little tidbit.
And so it began, he finally got back in touch with us, and everything seemed OK. He was working at Jack Astor’s as a busboy, working his way up to a server. We used to go there every week, just so we could see him, otherwise, he wasn’t making any effort to come by my house to see me or his brother.
This went on until he became a server, don’t know why, but he didn’t last too long in that position, the hours were few, and the tips were not great, whatever, he never really expressed why he left. So, now, the only way we got to see him was to offer a free meal somewhere, I kept it up as long as I could, but it got too expensive, especially when we included his girlfriend.
Back in 2017, I started to become ill, and by Christmas (Boxing day), I was hospitalized with fluid on my heart. The doctor (who I found out later had Aspergers) had written me off almost immediately. Basically, after talking to the doctor, Denise went home with making funeral arrangments on her mind. I was admitted much later that day, if not early the next morning at HSC (I’ll do a separate post about my stays at HSC). Brandon and Cami came by the next day, I was in a room with 3 women, who allowed me to stay in their room (if they had said no, I could have been left in the hallway until a room became available). So after about 12 days, and most of the first week or so, I was in another world, hallucinating and everything. So, apparently, I did not make Brandon feel appreciated for coming by to see me in hospital (more about this later). I was released 12 days after they could find nothing wrong with me, other than the 60 pounds of fluid that I lost over a 3 week period.
So, everything went back to the way it was, barely seeing Brandon, him not responding to text messages, not answering my phone calls, etc. We’d see him once in a blue moon. Usually out somewhere to eat, seemed like I spoiled him and the only way to get him to see us if I was paying for supper.
I got a blister on my right foot, that was being treated by a community health nurse until it turned into gangrene (again, more about that hospital situation in another post). I was hospitalized again at The HSC. This time, there was a possibility that they may have to remove my whole foot (below knee amputation), luckily, the surgeon only took my little toe. Now, I spent 11 days in this time, and Brandon didn’t come by once, even though he was going to University classes literally across the street. I was texting him, and he kept making excuses not to come by, after 6 or 7 days, he stopped answering my texts, I don’t remember much, but I did get mad with him and gave him shit for not responding to me because I wanted to see him before surgery. He later texted me back saying I had no reason to get mad with him, cause he was sick for the last 4 days and that’s why he didn’t respond? Lame, to say the least, he literally turned it around on me and blamed me for not reading his mind and somehow knowing he was sick, Jesus, if he was that sick that he could not hit a few buttons on his phone, he should have been in the bed next to me in hospital. So, deflection is his usual response, turned it all around to be my fault, etc. He never did come by, and I was released after surgery.
So, I was released, and just let it slide. I wasn’t mad and figured everything was fine. I decided to see how long it would take for him to call, text or visit, months went by and nothing. I didn’t text or call because they say a sign of crazy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. As he never answered my calls or respond to my texts, I didn’t even bother.
So, Christmas rolled around and he sent me a text saying he and Cami would be by tomorrow, cool, at least I’d get to see him. Well, he didn’t show? Days went by, and I texted, called, no response, and as he said he was coming by, I was worried that something had happened. I actually called his mom and got the answering machine which wasn’t set up to take calls? A couple of hours went by and his step-father Paul called me back, good on him. I told him that Brandon said he was coming by but never showed, he said that he was at his place that day, so, everything seemed fine, he even asked Brandon how Aiden was doing, but, he didn’t know, cause he never speaks to him. Paul said he would call Brandon and see what was up. Brandon said that He and I were on the outs (news to me) and that’s why he didn’t come by? Total BS.
So, now his Birthday was coming around and his Christmas gifts (Cami`s too) was still here. Nothing, no response to calls, texts (remember what I said about crazy). After a while, he finally sent me a text, and to summarize, he basically said that he was too busy to give me HOURS to come by and visit (he lives 10 minutes away) and that he clams up when there is conflict. The reason he never came by to see me in the hospital the second time was that I didn`t make him feel appreciated for coming by the first time I was in there. Even though I barely remember him coming by as I was out of it, it was the second day there. I was reading this text as we were returning home from HSC getting IV meds as I had another infection in my foot. I was fuming and had to stop reading it, I was so mad. We had just passed his place and almost got Denise to turn around, the fact that I would probably not make it up to his place because of all the stairs, I probably would have done it. It took me a few days to get back to the text, and after I finally read it, I said, fuck that, and responded with saying his excuses were total BS and asked him how I was supposed to make him feel appreciated as I lay sick on a hospital bed? Was I supposed to jump off the bed and open my wallet, do a happy dance, what? As I said, the first 7 or 8 days I was out of it and having hallucinations and all! Told him FFS, he was busier than Bill Gates, not being able to drive 10 minutes to come to visit me, or his brother. Told him he was acting like a spoiled millennial.
Well, I guess I struck a nerve, his response was unbelievable. He called me a drunk, a loser, a wife-beater, etc. You name it, he called me it. He said he was better than me, actually, I’ll take screenshots, cause he was fucking brutal, and all because I called him spoiled and said I was tired of him blowing smoke up my ass. I’ll summarize as best I can. He didn’t come to see me in the hospital the second time because I didn’t make him feel appreciated the first time, he was too busy to come to see me and his brother, even though he lives 10 minutes away. So, with that, he turned on me like I was a piece of shit. I never did anything to him throughout the years except love him. Even when he sold me out for an XBOX, I let it slide. When he got his mom to take him out of school behind my back, I let it slide. The fact that he didn’t come to see me in the hospital because I should have been able to read his mind and know he was sick, I let it slide. I never held any of that against him because I love him.
I responded to his allegations and rhetoric as best I could, at least we were talking (texting), and had the longest conversation ever. I’ll post the conversation below, unedited, and you can make your own mind up if I deserved it or not?
