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It has been one year since my life was turned upside down while
in New York for a four day entertainment industry conference. I
am still amazed that what seemed to be a chance encounter turned
out to be the single most defining moment of my life. Before I met
my hope-wielding homeless friend limping through Central Park, I
was the one wandering aimlessly through life. In fact, earlier that
day I had a terrible disagreement with my father and my walk through
Central Park gave me time to think about the sad turn of events
that led to our disagreement and my downward spiral. Walking in
a serene space always calms me down and clears my head so I put
on my gym shoes, grabbed small drawstring sports bag that contained
my cell phone, credit card and the key card for my hotel room, and
entered the park at West 55th street.
Recounting the phone conversation with daddy set me off all over
again and, out of frustration, I kicked the side of a light pole
at the entrance of the park. The pain that shot through my foot
left me doubled over and feeling more sorry for myself than ever,
especially when the t-shirt vendor selling I LOVE NEW YORK t-shirts
and hats looked down and asked me if I needed help. Yes, I needed
help dammit! But the kind of help I so desperately needed couldn’t
be found on a t-shirt cart so back the hell up, I thought to myself.
After a minute or so the pain subsided and, feeling stupid for kicking
a light pole, I pulled myself together and entered the park.
The beauty of my surroundings slowly made me feel better. Checking
out a group of bird watchers wearing binoculars around their necks,
pointing and jumping up and down with excitement upon spotting a
group of baby bald eagles made me smile at how absolutely corny
some people can be. At the same time, I admired them for discovering
one small part of life that they obviously derived a great deal
of pleasure from. If only I could find something I feel passionate
about, I thought sadly. I have this incredible career and can honestly
say that most people would sell their first-born child to be the
senior vice president for publicity at major network. So why, then
do I feel like the most miserable person on earth, I thought. Maybe
daddy was right.
At age 36, I am at the top of my game professionally. I own a beautiful
town home in Chicago’s West Loop area and have amazing friends and
family. So maybe he was right. “I am tired of hearing you complain
incessantly about your life, baby girl,” daddy said quietly. “You
seem to think that the world owes you something and you are sitting
there angry and saddened, waiting to collect on that debt.” I just
looked at the phone in disbelief thinking to myself that as much
as I love him, he just doesn’t get it. My father, a gentle, loving
man, has always stood beside me when I make stupid choices in my
life but I was beginning to sense that I was on my own entirely—that
it was me against the world. I sighed deeply, letting daddy know
that his comment, one that I considered unfair, had annoyed and
frustrated me to no end. How could he tell me that I complain incessantly?
Why doesn’t he understand how difficult it has been for me to pick
up the pieces after losing Nile, my fiancée and the love of my life?
I opened my mouth to state
my case, to explain why it appeared from the outside looking in
that I was angry and saddened, which I was, but daddy was tired
of hearing me complain and I was tired of having to defend myself
so I used that long, pregnant pause to collect myself and then replied:
“Daddy, I am sorry you feel this way and you know I love you but
I have to go. My girlfriend from Brooklyn is waiting for me downstairs
and I don’t want to keep her waiting. I will think about what you’ve
said and we’ll talk later okay?” Before he could reply, I quickly
blew a kiss into the telephone, told him I loved him once again
and hung up. I knew my girlfriend wasn’t waiting for me. I knew
no one was waiting. I put the phone down, reached behind me to grab
my pillow and held it to my face to drown out the guttural scream
that came from deep down where my broken heart resided. How could
he do this to me? How could he leave me all alone? What about the
plans we made? I sobbed deeply, sadly into that pillow until there
was nothing left. I felt completely drained of life, of hope, of
joy until Nile’s handsome, smiling face flashed through my mind
like a bolt of lightening. God how I missed him. Maybe I could understand
it if Nile left me for some wack ass elementary school teacher he
used to screw in college, pitifully laying in wait for the two of
us to break up so she could be there to pick up the pieces. That
I could understand. But to lose him the way I lost him was more
than I could bear and I found myself paralyzed with hopelessness
unable to pull myself together.
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