For some reason I got an overwhelming urge to write this, so I am. It's not planned and I have no idea what will be said, but if I don't address this, I'll suffer some form of emotional anguish and I'm just not up for that today.
I heard today that it is Father's Day. Since my grandfather passed away in 1991, that has meant nothing to me. I miss him and don't need a day to remind me of it. I thank the powers that be for him and that he was always there for me, in his quiet, stubborn eastern European way. For as much as I loved him and still miss him, I've never dreamed of him, which really bothers me.
That being said. I hate Father's Day. It reminds me of things that should remain long forgotten. Things that are wrong on so many levels yet are a part of my shaky foundation. The few memories I have of my father are not good. Actually, that is an understatement. They are things that never should have been. Then there are the things that I witnessed, yet was too young to know what they meant. There was no way for me to categorize it into a memory so there is a part of me that has those moments floating in a jar of formaldehyde somewhere inside; I can see them, yet can't really get to them. And other than for morbid curiosity, I don't want to get to them.
He is the reason that, for my entire life, I have hated Rocky & Bullwinkle, doors that don't lock, having someone sneak up behind me and grab me, being held too tightly, guns that aren't in my hand, and orange vinyl chairs. He is also the reason that as a little girl I moved well over 20 times. For the record, I'm up to 39 times now. I think I still keep running.
After I was 4 1/2, I never saw him again. About 7 years ago I got a letter from him. Out of nowhere. I panicked and never responded. After twenty-odd years of avoidance he'd found me. In the process I learned that he'd also had me trailed for years, obtaining info, pictures, and odd bits here and there. I never once knew this. I was being followed by a friend of my fathers that lived in the general vicinity and never once knew. He sounded like a guy that wanted to learn about his child, even though I found it a bit unsettling. Most importantly, he sounded just like a normal guy. Not at all what I had remembered, although that was a long time ago. He had a new life and wanted me to share in it. He wrote again and I ignored it out of fear and uncertainty. I was so confused. And I learned I have a half-sister and half-brother. But I'm an only child...
Then I received a letter that he committed suicide, just as his mother had years before. I spoke to the woman that was about to be my stepmother... they were to marry a few years ago in October and he'd killed himself in June. We talked on the phone briefly and exchanged a letter. He and I shared so many personality traits; the ups and downs, the open and giving side, the scared introverted side, incredible stubbornness and a deep vulnerability - all shown within a few moments of one another. I finally learned where that part of me came from.
My entire life I grew up hating the things he had done and not missing him in the least. I could do that because there was nothing for me to attach it to. Until I got the letters. Especially the final letter. I spent so much time trying to protect myself from what could have happened based on what had happened in the past. In a way, that is wise. On the other hand, I am fully responsible for obliterating the possibility of ever having known my father and have only myself to blame for that. I think I still try to protect myself in that manner to this day. You'd think I'd have learned from this that you can't always protect yourself and sometimes you sever all possibilities in taking that route. It's hard though, to separate what I felt as a child and what I feel as an adult now.
The things he did were wretched and I'll never really forgive it so to speak. Not because I'm heartless or want to make myself feel extended pain, but because it's what I felt as a child, the opinions I formed are based on the level of a young girl. I'd equate it to trying to take the eggs out of a baked cake. That forgiveness may be elusive but I think I feel some understanding, or at least the willingness to try to understand. Either way, the real opportunity has passed. Once again, any information I get will be someone else's interpretation of the man he was. I am no further ahead and any answers are all supposition and result in further query anyway. Even in death, nothing is final, is it?
I guess it's true when they say dead men tall no tales. Happy Father's Day William. I just can't bring myself to call you 'dad'... not even after all this time.
11 comments:
I think this is one of those posts that we can read, digest but not truly post comments on.
It feels more rhetorical than anything and cathartic in it's purpose and, as such, I hope it worked as intended.....
You can't blame yourself for not connecting with him later in life, why should you have believed he had changed. For any adult to cause a child the type of pain he inflicted on you is terrible and all the blame rests on his shoulders. You can think of the might have beens if you had answered that last letter, but you had to go on the what actually happened. I know it won't make you feel any better for your decisions made, but you really shouldn't feel bad about it, you did what you had to at the time. The blame rests on him.
Shall I venture forth and comment...hehe?
We do what we can to protect ourselves. Sometimes for the better and sometimes for worse. You cannot undo what happened between you and your father. You can however choose make the best of what lies ahead for you, embrace the past for what it is... without any guilt, move beyond the blame and regrets, accept what has happened as a part of you and truly move on from there. So much easier said then done...
My dad is one of the strongest/headstrong ppl I know. For various reasons, he scares the sh*t out of me, but I have learnt to accept that about him. I don't fight him or myself anymore and I am happier for it. That said, he was around when I grew up... so I have had years to deal with him on an ongoing basis.
Father's day is a sore spot for me too.
Life is too complicated for us to fully understand sometimes. You did your best to cope, and that's commendable.
Everyone - I thank you all for actually posting any comments on this subject. I was literally in the midst of writing an email to a friend and felt this overwhelming need to just get this off my chest. I thank you for sharing here (and some in personal emails) some of your own situations, views, and support. It helped for me to get it out of my head and to see such comments, well, that was very special and I appreciate every one of you for taking your time.
Carpathian pretty much said what I was going too.
I am so sorry that you have suffered in this way and, and , well I really don't know what else to say.
You are in my thoughts.
hmmmm
"I am fully responsible for obliterating the possibility of ever having known my father and have only myself to blame for that."
No. No you are not fully responsible. and No you do NOT have only yourself to blame. If he'd been the father he should have been you'd have known him. If he'd taken responsibility and contacted you and/or asked for forgiveness and reconciliation at any point in the years since, you would have had that opportunity, but he denied you that. No you are not to blame. Please don't do yourself down for that.
As you may know (from my blogs you've commented on) I have a close relationship with my children, especially my daughter - and her growing up to be happy and well are of the utmost importance to me. I went through a lot of pain to make sure my daughter will have a good male role model (not a sperm donor - I hate that expression), despite her being taken away from me by my ex at an early age.
And incidentally, due to (as yet unblogged) incidents in my past, I haven't spoken to or seen my mother or sister for 25 years, and my sister hasn't seen or spoken to my father for 30 years. I occasionally consider contacting my mother but what would I say, what could I say? Do I resurrect the pain and hurt that I felt as a young boy or do I try to ignore it? And what if she doesn't want to ignore it? I also don't contact her as I fear possible rejection more than anything. It's crap, but I don't blame myself, not least because she has had the ability to contact me for all these years if she wanted to too.
Sorry this is such a long post, I empathise with you so much, and wish I could convince you not to blame yourself.
"I'd equate it to trying to take the eggs out of a baked cake."
That's a pretty good analogy.
We're all a product of the successes and failures of our childhood and you can't hope to untangle yourself from them because they're you, for better or for worse.
If you're dad did bad things, then you did the right thing because as far you were to know, he could go and do them again, and there's no way of knowing if he still retained the power to do that.
Look at it this way, he may have failed you, but he seems to have made up for that with someone else.
While that might not help you, it seems that he may have learned from his mistakes...
Well, I can relate to various parts of that myself. My dad walked out on me before I was born. He left my mum to look after me on her own, and since then, I have seen him a few times, but then he always seems to drift out of touch. I am also an only child. Except my mum had a daughter, who was addopted at birth, and who we know nothing about. I also have a half brother and sister from my dad, but because I don't see him, I don't see them either. As it has always been like this though, I guess I just got used to it.
This all goes to show how people can live such different lives yet 'get' what someone else is talking about. We all have our own stories and tales. I thank you for reading mine and contributing your own thoughts.
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