He had schizophrenia. He didn’t recognize her. She did everything she could to connect with him, but he refused treatment, medication, food, or new clothing.
Eventually, he said to her: “Diana, I am so sorry for not being in your life. I am so happy that you have a family of your own now. Do better for them…
… Don’t worry about me or what everyone says about me. If you want to make me proud and happy, be there for your family the way your mom and I never were. Stop trying to save everyone…just worry about yourself and your family. And don’t forget why I named you Diana, you are the light within the darkness.” So she refused to give up.
After suffering a heart attack, he agreed to get help and slowly took control of his own life.
One day he suddenly called her to invite her out for coffee. Later that afternoon, she wrote on her blog: “I feel like I just met my father for the first time today.”
“I struggled to reconcile my feelings toward my father’s absence in my life, while continuing to care deeply for him and other homeless individuals.”
“Over time, I learned to navigate through my feelings of desperation and became more vocal in my community about my father’s condition and what it’s like to watch a loved one battle mental illness.”
He is now doing very well, and they are rebuilding their relationship from the ground up. “So long as we are alive in this world, every day is an opportunity to take hold of that ‘second chance.’ There is no failure unless you give up, and he never gave up. And I haven’t given up on him.”
"No, you don’t get it. I need it to be over. I need it to be over because I can’t take this anymore. … I waited. I mean, god, I waited. It’s like he is driving a car, okay, and I just want to be in the passenger’s seat. But he’s locked the door, and and so I have to hold onto the bumper, you know? I’m not even asking him to open the door for me. Just leave it unlocked and say, “come in.” But no, he didn’t do that, so I’m hanging onto the bumper, and life goes on, and the car goes on, and I get really badly bruised and hitting potholes. And it hurts. I mean, it hurts. So yesterday I had to let go of the bumper because it hurts too much. It hurts too much."
