A Father and His Little Girl - Her Story Continues Through Me

My daughter Stephanie’s 35th birthday would have been today.  She was born on December 17, 1980 in Phoenix, Arizona.  At that time I was but 24 and worked as a waiter at an upscale seafood restaurant in Seabrook, Texas.  We would not come to know each other for another 14 ½ years.  

The first time Stephy and I met was April 7, 1995.  She was waiting to be picked up from the movies when a brand new 1995 aftermarket F150 rolled up to serve as her limo ride home.  The driver was a long haired 39 year old version of myself who just happened to be out on his VERY FIRST date with her mother.  Stephy thought my truck was cool, said something snarky to her mother and then proceeded to get in.

During the next year and a half before Sharon and I were married Stephy took great delight in seeing how much a 15 year old girl could (lovingly) get underneath her soon-to-be step-dad’s skin.  There was one incident where the dog chewed up an expensive bra and another that dealt with a $400 long distance phone bill just to name a few.  Along the way she also ruined my perceived image of what teenage girls were supposed to be.  I honestly thought that they all kept immaculate rooms and were always prim and proper.  Ha!  We would often battle each other just like dads and teenage daughters do, but at the same time she always knew that she had me wrapped around her little finger and often used that knowledge to her advantage.  It was also during this first year and a half that I discovered Stephy was bi-polar, and had ADHD.  It would be a continuing struggling for her to learn how to deal properly with her condition and a learning journey that she (and I and her mother) would travel together for the next 18 years …right up until the end.

After high school graduation I taught her how to drive a stick shift (which was reminiscent of teaching a child to ride a bike) so she could take my pickup with her to college in Oklahoma City.  Once, after a late night frantic phone call I drove 400 miles to pick her up in Southern Oklahoma because she had totaled the truck by falling asleep at the wheel.  This would be the first of several instances where I felt that I and I alone needed to be the one to help her/rescue her/save her.  I had become her father and she my daughter.

Several months after the accident Stephy would have the wonderful opportunity to spend the next year of her college education overseas.  Her school, Oklahoma Christian had a sister university in Ibaraki, Japan where she was offered a three semester scholorship.  Stephy, while not the most exemplary high school student had shown a real talent for language, especially Japanese and one day hoped to be a professional translator.  She made many friends while in Japan, however being so far from home is what seemingly brought on her first serious bout with depression.  She returned to Texas approximately a year later and never really was able to continue successfully as a student after that.  

Not going to school meant finding a job.  Stephy soon discovered that as her depression worsened keeping gainful employment was not a particularly good talent of hers.  Over the next few years she bounced around from job to job and apartment to apartment.  At one point we fell completely out of touch with her for the better part of two years.  Around the summer of 2005 she resurfaced, living with a boyfriend in College Station, Texas.  By then we were living in Pennsylvania, but that is another story.  On a solo trip back to Houston I rented a car and drove up to A&M country to visit with her for the first time in what truly was a long long time.  She seemed happy!  Her new boyfriend ____ (name redacted) was nice and the two of them even flew up to Pennsylvania later that year to visit.  I really liked her beau, he was a great cook and they seemed to get along wonderfully.  Sadly, that relationship ended, just like others still to come.

Time passed again.  During the next few years Stephy moved in with us in Pennsylvania and then moved back out and returned to Texas - more than once.  By now Sharon and I were asking ourselves that question that each parent in this situation asks:  “Is there anything else I can try/do that I haven’t already tried/done?”  And then it happened.  She met ____ (again, name redacted) and they were perfect for each other!  We flew down to Houston to visit and they flew up our way more than once.  While still fighting her illness her life seemed to be in order with someone who not only loved her, but understood her mental health needs.  They were to be married.  The first of several wonderful life moments happened for me during an ensuing trip to visit us here in Lancaster.  First, Sharon and I were blessed to go with her to pick out her wedding dress - and to pay for it!  That same evening Stephy asked me something that brought me to tears.  She said “Papa Bear …” (by then I was no longer Earl…) “ I would love it if you walked me down the aisle.”  This came simultaneously in the form of a statement and a question.  I am not Stephy’s biological father (he is very much alive and lives in North Carolina) and for that reason I was honored beyond belief.  More tears, more smiles and lots of hugs followed.

October 11, 2010 - Certain days stand out in your life.  The birth of your children, the day you get married, or in my case the day that I am arm in arm escorting my little girl down a flower strewn path and up to the alter where her (very soon to be) new husband awaited her.  The entire weekend was perfection.  The wedding took place in our hometown of Lancaster rather than in Houston.  The weather obliged us both the night before for the rehearsal and for the ceremony and reception the following day as well.  All of our dear wonderful friends that we had made since moving to Pennsylvania were in attendance, as were many of Stephy’s friends and soon to be family members from Houston.  

The first year of their marriage was wonderful.  We visited them twice, once in Houston and once after a move to a beach side apartment in Galveston.  On both trips they seemed like a couple in love and in it for the long haul.  In reality though the move to the coast had serious complications not only for Stephy, but for her relationship with her husband as well.  For several years my girl was enrolled in the Harris County MHMRA (Google it if need be) in order to receive prescriptions that enabled her to lead a normal life.  Upon moving to Galveston County one would think that she would just need to send in a notice of address change and continue as normal.  Sadly, this was not the case.  She was required to re-enroll in the Galveston County MHMRA and consequently was also required to wait upwards of a year before receiving her medications again.  The reasons offered to her were because each county office operated independently (and without any data sharing) rather than being a part of a state wide (and state run) collective.  Ultimately, the lack of medication over an extended period of time would cost her her marriage and her life.  Thank you Texas, and oh by the way - f**k you very much.

The year 2012 was tough on Stephy and it was equally tough on Sharon and me.  She moved from job to job and jumped quickly between short term relationships.  On one trip to Houston we rented her an apartment (and paid for it) so she would not be living with friends (or boys she barely knew).  On another trip to Houston I bought her a car.  Everybody needs a car in Houston, right?  I had hoped that the new ride would lead to a job which would lead to paying the car note and paying for her own rent.  Those hopes were unfortunately not to be.  One evening after too many glasses of wine I found myself in tears and sobbing to Sharon that I was certain I would eventually have to fly to Houston and bring her home in a box.  That statement born of intoxication and despair proved to be devastatingly prophetic.  

Ask anyone what March 17 is and they will tell you it is St. Patrick’s day.  Ask Sharon or me and we will tell you that in the year 2013 it was the day our daughter was murdered.  The weeks, months and years that followed have been difficult.  On occasion I drink too much.  In rare but not unknown occurrences I look at a picture of her in our home and well up in tears.    Randomly but (happily) infrequently Sharon is prone to sobbing at the loss of her first born.  And now today on what would have been her 35th birthday two facts are immutable:  1.) There has been no adjudication of the young man charged with her murder, and 2.) That young man is the only person living on this earth who knows what transpired that evening.

Robin Williams and more recently Scott Weiland killed themselves and the nation mourned their passing with tributes.  My girl Stephanie did not commit suicide, but her mental health issues lead to a series of bad choices which ultimately did cost her her life.  Outside of our families and circles of friends the world does not know of Stephanie, but if there is a positive to be found in the stories of Mr.’s Williams and Weiland it is that all of us should be taking every opportunity to help friends or family with mental health needs.  It won’t be easy.  Sharon and I talked many times about just “cutting her off” because she wasn’t doing anything to help herself, but we hung on and hoped.  If the night when we lost our girl had never happened it is most likely that Stephy would still be making bad choices and not fulfilling promises made.  She would however still be able to say “I love you Papa Bear” either in person or over the phone.  She would still be here.

Thanks for reading to the end.  Writing this helps me.  The fact that you are reading it let’s me know that you care and that helps tremendously.  For a long time I was angry at God for taking my girl, but he and I have since shook hands and made up on that one.  Today Sharon and I are stronger than ever as a couple.  Both of our boys are married and have families.  We both have good jobs and are staring at retirement on the horizon.  We are fine, but we miss our girl tremendously.

Love to all,

Earl 

Reviews

[Woody]

Earl, this is heart rending. my heart goes out to you and your wife. I know what it feels like to see a treasured one so "unfairly" hit by Fate. my son was hit by a train and lost most of his fingers. he's still with us, than god for small mercies. it's always hard on parents.
I hope that writing about what befell your family helped expunge the hurt, be it in a small measure.