bipolar dad

It would not be long before my small world would be turned upside down. We lived on the second floor over my mother’s mother and father’s house. It was a typical suburban neighborhood with two and three family homes right next to each other. Now the snow has been falling all night and all day. To look outside the window was as if you were looking at a painting of a winter wonderland. On any other day, we all would be playing in the snow and having fun… not today. The snow covered everything already, 15 or more inches have fallen and it was intensifying. As I looked out the front window of my mother’s room, I could not help to feel happy about the snow until a car and a large truck pulled up in front of the house. Six men meet my grand father in the street. I almost did not recognize the two police officers walking toward the house cause the snow was getting to white out stage. The storm would be known in history as the the Groundhog Day Blizzard 1976. But I will always remember it, as the storm that Shattered Families.

The dispute and altercation of the days before was a building argument between the only two male role models I knew and loved. They were bitterly angry at each other and it was about to get worse. A pounding at the door and my grandfather yelling, “open up, the police are here and you are out!” At this point, we have already been in my mother’s room, my father has been pacing back and forth the whole time…talking under his breath and acting real strange. He was sweating even though the house was freezing. Grand pap turned off the heat from the burner. My father barricaded the door to his room with us all inside. My mother had my baby brother and my sister huddled with her in the corner. You could hear the shuffling of feet in the house and then a bang on the door to the room… “Open the door now, we are here to enforce an eviction,” was yelled out by whom I have to believe was one of the police officers. “No!” shouted my father, “you going to have to kick the @#%*-ing door in.”

Now today, we might have been able to recognize some of his actions, and just maybe we could have gotten some help… But back then we did not have the education and knowledge we have now. Still, no help was coming this day, not for my father, not for this Bipolar Dad.

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