Page 144 of Bitter Rival

I’m not making excuses or asking for your forgiveness but I’m hoping you’ll continue reading so I can try to explain my actions. No sugarcoating or painting myself in a better light. I’m too old for that bullshit.

Truth is that I was lonely.

I don’t want to speak badly of your mother. I know you loved her as did I. But our marriage was over long before Astrid showed up.

Your mother was, for want of a better word, fragile. And I guess I’ve never been the kind of man who treats fragile things with the proper care they deserve. I’m the proverbial bull in a china shop breaking pretty things.

After you were born, your mother wanted nothing to do with me. The doctor said it was postpartum depression, but it went on for years and she continued getting worse instead of better.

I didn’t help the situation—I’ll be the first to admit that I need a lot of attention. I grew impatient with her mood swings. Told her to snap out of it. In short, I didn’t handle her emotions or her tears as well as I should have. I just wanted to “fix” her and get back the girl I fell in love with.

Unfortunately, depression doesn’t work that way.

I found a therapist for her. I sent her to the best treatment facilities. Even had her hospitalized to keep her safe. I tried everything I could to help but nothing worked and, even though it wasn’t her fault, I got frustrated and resentful, bullied her, and said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.

But your mother…she was a good woman with a big heart who felt things very deeply. She donated large sums of money to just about every charity. Children in need. Animal rescue centers. Homeless shelters. You name it, she funded them. No need to get into this now but suffice it to say, I had to sell a lot of valuable items to pay off those credit card debts.

I’ve never given a shit about money though. If you’ve got it, spend it. If you don’t, read some good books, take long walks, work hard, and get plenty of sunshine.

Money comes and money goes. There are better things to do with your time than chasing the almighty dollar.

Looking back, I know I handled everything badly but it’s not always so easy to see things clearly when you’re caught up in the moment.

When Astrid showed up, I should have walked away but I didn’t. For a little while, she made me happy and gave me everything that was missing in my life.

Bottom line: I was selfish. But that shouldn’t surprise you. I know my faults, my flaws, my weaknesses. I’ve always been a selfish man. I’ve always had a weakness for beautiful things. And like I said, I needed a lot of attention.

When you were a boy, you used to love being with me. Used to want to be just like me when you grew up. Guess I missed that when you got older and wised up and realized that your old man was just a mere mortal.

Whenever I tried to see you, your grandmother said that you were too busy or that you had no interest in spending time with me. And hey, I get it. I wouldn’t have given my old man the time of day either if he’d treated me like I treated you.

I should have tried harder. I should have done better. I should have done a lot of things.

Water under the bridge. You can’t undo what’s done. You can’t rewind time and make better choices.

I did wrong by you and wrong by Daisy and for that, I’m sorry.

She begged me to let her stay with me. Asked me to adopt her. And I should have found a way to keep her instead of letting Astrid take her. That woman was a shitty mother. Never gave that girl a single bit of love or attention. But I’d already proven I wasn’t the best father so I wasn’t so sure she would have fared better with me.

Anyway, I’m proud of both of you.

You did good. Made a success of yourself. I know you’re smarter than your old man and won’t make the same mistakes I did, but I hope like hell that you find happiness.

Once all the basics are taken care of, a man needs a sense of purpose, a reason to wake up in the morning, and someone to love.

Despite all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, I loved you. And I loved this damn vineyard. It gave me hope. It healed me. It brought me joy. And hopefully it will do the same for you.

Goodbye, my boy. Live well. Live bravely. Follow your heart. And enjoy all that wine in the cellar.

In vino veritas.

Cheers,

The SOB you used to call Dad

P.S. Tell Michael Castellano that he’s still an asshole but I’ve forgiven him for the grapevine incident. It will take another seventy years to forgive him for the rest though, and I ain’t got that kind of time.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

---