Posted in: The Eyes of a Monkey The Eyes of a Monkey # 60: The Father, The Son, and The Fallen
By Dr. Monkey
Mar 25, 2009 - 9:20:15 PM
The Eyes of a Monkey # 60: The Father, The Son, and the Fallen
Justin's Eyes
They say one of the hardest things to do in life is to bury your own child. Two of what I'll call the most tragic events of my life involve such an event. To this day, one of the most unsettling deaths I've ever had to endure was the death of my uncle. Since this is a subject I've covered many times I won't go too far into details but he unfortunately hung himself and was later found dead by my grandmother, his mother. For me it was a hard pill to swallow because he was an outside figure whom I felt I could relate to and saw pieces of myself in. So seeing such a tragic end to someone that I held in such high regard was a hard thing for me to accept. As a bit of a tribute I would later get the my uncle's nickname tattooed on my throat, as a reminder of his influence.
Though I was pretty shaken by the loss of my uncle, nobody took it as hard as my grandmother. What was once a life full of energy turned into an empty shell. It actually got to the point where it was somewhat painful for me to even be around her anymore due to the obvious effects the death had taken on her. She was transformed from an outgoing person to the type of person who would just stare blankly in space for large periods of time. From the day my uncle died, up until my grandmother's passing sadly she was never the same. The natural cycle of life, the ideology that a parent should never bury their child was broken.
Another tragic event, and one I've never brought up was the untimely passing of my brother in law. It was no secret that at an early age he had falling into the drug trap and as he got older his addiction dug it's hooks into his very being. He eventually had found a treatment center that seemed to be working for him and was on his way to turning his life around and had even made quite the impact to several of the other addicts there. Unfortunately drug addiction is a day by day fight, and on a fateful day in January I got a call from my wife saying her brother had passed away. I felt bad for my wife for not only the obvious reasons, but also because her first encounter with death was with her 30 year old brother. Not that death is ever an easy thing to accept but it is typically an easier thing to accept with those who are older due to natural causes.
The toughest thing to see though was my father in law. Not only is he one of the funniest guys I've met in my life but he's also a hard ass. Not in the sense that he isn't a passionate person but in the sense that he isn't the most emotional guy I've ever seen. So to see a man whom I've never seen show much emotion at all break down in tears was a harsh thing to bear witness to. He had made it his point in life to help "fix" all of his son's problems over the years and help get him out of any jam he might get himself in to. To be paralyzed and helpless though and unable to undo the passing of his son was something that was nearly impossible for him to accept. In fact, I dare say that to this day it is something that he is unable to cope with.
The Father
It was hard when Chris was so far away from us during his days in Japan. Obviously as a parent you want your child to be as close as possible to you. At the same time though, you want them to find success and given Chris' career choice he felt that going to Japan was the only way. He was the type of man that felt you always had room for improvement and in order to make it in the big leagues as he put it, you had to be willing to really go the extra mile. Chris felt that the competition in Japan was among the best in the world, and to be able to compete at the level he wanted to he needed to become part of the wrestling scene there. I remember him calling me one day so proud, "Dad, I'm getting a run with the IWGP Junior Heavyweight title." While I wasn't big on the whole wrestling decision, to hear the excitement in his voice really made me feel that he had found his calling.
Something he was doing must have worked because after a solid few years he got the chance to shine in WCW. Chris was estactic at the prospect of signing a long term deal with the company and even more excited to be part of a tournament teamed with Jushin Liger, whom he had wrestled against in Japan many times. I know Christopher was upset when his run there ended so quick but he took it as a learning experience and vowed to work harder and make it back.
One of the most upsetting times for Chris was during his next run in the states. He phoned me one day very upset, "I hurt someone bad tonight dad." Apparently during a match with a wrestler by the name of Sabu a move went wrong and Sabu was seriously injured. "I didn't mean to hurt him dad." I tried to reassure him, but he refused to not take the full blame. He felt that it was his duty as a wrestler to protect not only himself, but his opponent at all times. There just was no convincing him otherwise, and I had to respect his concern for the well being of his fellow worker.
Not everything my son did always made me proud though. Maybe I'm just old fashioned but when his marriage to Martina fell apart I always hoped they would work their issues out. Also the circumstances surrounding the Nancy courtship just didn't seem natural to me. Though to see those two together I couldn't deny the passion they had for one another. It was like Chris found a new lease on life and wanted to start new with bride to be and they did, right after the birth of my grandson Daniel.
I knew my son had taken a lot of punishment throughout the years but I just figured that was part of the job. I know the phone calls I got sometimes Chris would seem a little out of it but he'd assure me everything was alright. It wasn't even really something that I considered to be a major issue. Maybe I just never viewed wrestling as the type of contact sport as it truly is. Perhaps I under estimated the amount of damage taking so many shots to the head can cause. Who knows, maybe I'm just looking for answers that aren't there at this point.
One thing I do know though, that monster who committed those crimes wasn't my son. Even that man who called me on Father's Day wasn't my son. The truth is, I think my son died long before June 24th 2007. My son was a compassionate human being. He was a loving son, a nurturing husband, and a model father. The person that killed Nancy and Daniel was evil and soulless. To accept the little boy who I raised and taught right from wrong, as the perpetrator of such events is something I can't do. It's something I won't do. Maybe I'm just too naive for my own good, but the only thing that keeps me sane are the good memories. Sometimes I close my eyes and pretend that none of it happened. One day I wish that phone would just ring and Chris would be on the other end. Then maybe this nightmare could end.
The Son
It's hard for me to accept these things I hear. Mom tried to shelter me from it but you can only do so much. In the span of one day I lost so much. Is it selfish for me to think like that? Should I even be thinking about the things I lost over the things my family lost? I'm so confused right now. Why would daddy kill Daniel? Just so quick I am without a father, step-mother, and step-brother. It just seems like some sort of sick joke. I don't know how to deal with the emotions I am feeling right now.
This is my dad, the man who loved me and took care of me for years. Even when him and mom split it didn't change the fact that he was my father. Megan didn't really know any better at the time but I did. I still accepted my new family over time and embraced them just as much as my old family. Nancy and Daniel were just as big a part of my life as Mom and Megan. I may not have gotten to see dad as often as I would have liked but he made each moment so special.
To hear that the very person I hold in such high regard go do such terrible things, just ruins the concept of life for me. To have the person who tucked you in at night and tell you that there are no such things as monsters, turn out to be one; it's just too much for me. I've never been so conflicted in my life. The person whom I grew up loving and respecting more than anyone is the person who has now caused me more pain than I've ever felt.
Sometimes I just get so angry. Why would you do that? Why would dad tear his own family apart. I often sit hear and think what if it was me? What if dad killed me instead? Then I wouldn't be left here with these emotions, these feelings that I don't even understand how to deal with. Then Daniel could be alive and me and dad would be together. I couldn't wish this pain on young Daniel though, and as much as it pains me to think about; I'm not so sure daddy and Daniel are together. I just wish things could go back to how they used to be.
I guess that's my burden to bear. I'll always be left with far more questions than I have answers to. People will always associate me with the murders my father committed. For the things you've done dad I want to hate you bad, I really do. I can't though, every time I found the anger in me boiling over I can't help but think of better days. Unlike grandpa, I refuse to make excuses dad. Thus I am forced to confront your actions head on. While I may hate you as a person, for some reason I can't help but love you as a father.
The Fallen
I don't want people to feel sorry for me nor do I want to make excuses for my actions. At times I just didn't even feel like myself anymore. Losing Eddie was a huge blow, as we acted as each other's crutches at times. He helped me through some tough times and I'd like to think I was able to do the same. So when I got the news that he had passed I just felt like one of the main people who helped me keep my head on straight while on the road was gone. It was literally like my voice of reason has just died. I can honestly say I was never the same.
Things with me and Nancy weren't on the best of terms. Sometimes I think me being on the road so much helped our marriage last, because with me not around we couldn't argue as much. She of course disproved of me taking steroids and she worried so much about me. At the time I just couldn't see it that way though, it just seemed like nothing I did was right. Not only for Nancy but for the WWE either. I mean they gave me the ball and let me run with it, but it almost felt like a constellation prize for my hard work. It's hard not to think that maybe if I had the "look" that maybe I would have had more time to shine. I mean I didn't want to end up looking like a bodybuilder, but a little extra mass couldn't hurt.
I'm not really sure when I started to lose control, I just remember feeling like I was simply watching my body from the outside. It was if I no longer could control the things I did. I remember being so protective over Daniel, he was so small and kids can be so cruel. Nancy resented me giving him the drugs but I agreed to not continue it forever. She would make me so mad sometimes though, I remember flipping the chair over and kicking the table down after a simple argument.
That night I just snapped. Nancy and I had an argument, I don't even remember what it was about. How absurd is it that I can't even remember that argument that triggered me killing my wife? It was surreal to me, I tried to pretend it wasn't real but the proof said bone chillingly still right in front of me. Then my thoughts just begin to twist further and further until the last bit of true logic had escaped me. I just recall thinking that I couldn't let Daniel see his mother like this, nor did I want him left alone in the world. Daniel was so fragile, I don't think he'd make it alone. I actually cried when I put him to sleep. I read him his favorite story but he fell asleep before it was over. He never woke up again.
I wanted so badly to turn myself in, I spent hours in my gym just trying to do anything to regain my sanity. All I could think about was Megan, David, Mom, and Dad. What would they think of me? How would they cope with seeing me in a prison every day rotting away and having to relive the memories over and over. I decided the best way would be to end my own life. The pain would be great at first but at least I wouldn't be there as a constant reminder of how much of a failure I had become. I wish I could be there for David and Megan, but maybe it's better that they hate me now. Maybe it's best that everyone hates me now.
As always I am Dr. Monkey, and you've just seen the world through my eyes.
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