Happy 11th Birthday Mouse...Daddy Loves You...Wherever You Are...?

Today is one of those days that a person with depression likes to sleep away, blotting out the date and praying for the next sunrise. Time goes by in slow motion. Each tick of the clock is so distinct and thunderous, as the second pounds in my ears. I didn't have the chance to sleep my pain away. My oldest daughter is returning back to Hamburg tomorrow. Liquid escape is no longer an option. Facing reality has been a subject I have run from like bats, snakes and clowns. That is another chapter in itself! Now I face it. For all of us it can be agonizing when we're "stuck in a moment and we can't get out of it" ala, Paul Hewson. Real fans know who that is.

On January 2, 2000, my daughter Kelly Lynn Connolly was born at approximately 10:30 am. Today,  January 2, 2011, I have no idea where she is at. My head is spinning and I feel like punching walls and bloodying knuckles and chins.

On that January day in 2000 I was at a Chicago Bears game at Soldier Field with my dad when I got the call. Her mother had delivered a wee girl and I gave her an Irish first name and my mother's name for her middle. I don't remember any of the game. I was sober that day 100%. I do feel a little regret that her first teddy bear was a Cade McKnown Beanie Baby. I couldn't wait to see her. We left the game and I rushed to the Northside. I was trembling with excitement and wondering how I would dress for her wedding 25 years down the road.

The first time I held her it was as if I had been handed the most precious gift ever beheld by a man. She was tiny, blotchy and red and her wee fingers barely made it around my thumb. I signed the birth certificate with great pride and was drawn to the spot that stated her blood type. It was not my type or her mother's. Those wacky recessive genes win once in awhile, right? It didn't matter about my past failures at fatherhood. They all came to fruition when Kelly was born. I imagined myself sharpening knives with a suspicious eye as she introduced me to boyfriends and longed at the thought of the two of us at a ballgame.

I built her crib and her mother and I fought. I had quit drinking. She had not stopped screaming. I took a disposable camera every time I saw her not knowing if the pictures taken would be the last. My visits ran in spurts. I would see her regularly then her mother would move or get angry and we would lose touch. I am proud to say that I have had insurance for Kelly since the day she was born and don't owe her mother a dime in child support. I pay faithfully every month even though I don't see my baby. When I did see her it was with her mother and very uncomfortable. Everything I bought for my daughter was "cheap" or "ugly." It was always wrong. I despised her mother for slighting the gifts I had painstakingly picked for my baby girl. Sober only a short time I knew I was in for a long strange trip with my baby mama.

I was so wrecked and broken when I met her mom I didn't even know what she did for a living. I still don't, but I have some notions. I know she worked for cash and had books full of phone numbers. She called her profession home health care. I can say that even though I don't know what she does for a living she is good to my daughter. During the times I have seen Kelly her apartment was clean, cute and decent. Kelly is a straight A student and plays piano beautifully.

The first time I lost her was when she was 2. I went to see her on my bi-weekly Sunday visit and arrived promptly at 10:00am eager to hug my baby. I was confused and angry when a man answered the door, disheveled and looking sloppy. I asked for Kelly. He said "Who?" I asked for her mother and he spat back that she had moved to Colorado. We lost contact for another 2 years.

I know what you're thinking! That's against the law! She can't do that! Go to the police and report it! That's what I did. A report was filled out and a stop made at the house where the sloppy man repeated his story to the River Grove police. His advice was that I contact an attorney. That was all they could do because she had sole custody of my girl. REALITY ALERT: papers is papers! Restraining orders don't stop monsters from terrorizing the filer of the "paper." Do Not Trespass signs hardly slow a trespasser down a shuffle.

I returned home devastated but not entirely surprised. My ex wife moved frequently and changed phone numbers even more frequently. She said she did so because a business deal went bad or the existing apartment had poor neighbors. Today, when trying to reach Kelly, there were 8 previous phone numbers in my cell. I tried them all to no avail. The part that gets me the most is that I have had the same cell number since Kelly was born. Her mother could let her reach out to me very easily.

I contacted several lawyers who all asked for huge retainers to take the custody case and pointed out to me that if my daughter was not in danger, my ex wife's occupation was irrelevant. It could cost me several thousand dollars all the way to bankruptcy. They also said her history of frequent moving and games could play out in the courts with dragged out date changes, attorney changes and continuance after continuance until I was bled dry.

I am pissed with guys who don't take responsibility for their child. It is your blood. I am not sure if Kelly is my blood but she is my daughter. The lack of responsibility of donors in the past has changed legislation to favor the mother. I understand that. It should be that way. The problem comes in when guys like me want to be a part of their child's life and the deck seems stacked against us.

I was with Kelly on her last 2 birthdays. We went ice skating on her 9th birthday and bowling on her 10th. I hope to be with her on her 12th. I think about her everyday and I am grateful that I have kids with Kris to get me through this stuff. They all know the story. They have been with Kelly for holidays and miss her on the next. I see her when I can and I know she is getting old enough to make decisions about her dad on her own. I do not sit here spinning tails of my sainthood. I was a mess for a lot of the time Kelly was growing up. I have seen enough of God working in my life to know that our time will come when he sees fit.

Thanks for letting me riff and vent. To Kelly, wherever you are, I love you. Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday DEAR KELLY! Happy Birthday to you! Sweet dreams Mouse.