My father died this weekend.
It’s hard to explain the complicated emotions and thoughts I have regarding the death of my father.
At 58, he was almost twice my age. I was told he died in his chair, of “natural causes”, but they’ve yet to explain to me what those causes were. Genetically speaking, I would very much like to know.
It has been twenty years since I’ve seen him. In memory, I met him no more than three times, and none of them were planned, comfortable, or done conscientiously.
My sister (half-sister), Rachael, feels the same way about him that I do on the surface. However, I do not think she looked at him as the sort of anti-rolemodel that I did. My mom did everything she could to not affect my opinions of him while still being honest with me. Even so, it was hard to respect the idea of a stranger who was alcoholic and attempted to be abusive before she divorced him, or someone who went to prison before becoming uncomfortably, proselytizingly born-again. He never paid child support, and he lived with his parents until just a few years ago, when they moved to a retirement community.
When Rachael discovered me and I started talking with our grandparents again, the topic inevitably came up about whether I wanted to meet or speak with him again – perhaps exorcise some demons or acquire a sense of closure.
I decided that I don’t need closure for something that was never opened. I don’t need confrontation in this circumstance, and I did not trust myself to withhold the pity I had for him. I think it is a shame that he turned out the way he did, and I am all the prouder of myself for not following that path.
I don’t even know that I would wish for a different parental experience. The person I am today did not have a typical childhood, and I am in many ways glad for that. I can’t even imagine what it would have otherwise been like, but his irresponsibiltiy is part of where I think my sense of responsibility comes from. Don’t be dad, skennedy, don’t be dad.
So, there you go. I was asked if I’d like to take part in the ‘closing ceremonies’, and I mentioned that I am awfully far away and haven’t seen him in two decades – my family on that side (who I have mostly never met) seemed to understand.
Life is excruciatingly short. I am glad I have chosen to spend my life, so far, in the way I have, and with the people I’ve chosen. Soon enough, the decades will pass, and so will I.
I hope I will leave in my wake people who loved me, people whose lives were enriched by my presence.
*hugs*
It seems that you’ve taken the right path for you in this journey, and I know you’ve enriched many people’s lives.
And yeah, I’d be curious of the “natural causes” in reference to a 58 year old. When I think of natural causes, I think of old people. 58 is not old by a long shot.
I know you’ve enriched My life, for what it’s worth.
*hugs you*
My condolences to your father, who did not, it seems, get to know his son, who is pretty great.
I’m sorry for your loss — not this one, so much, as for the father figure you didn’t have, but I think you should be proud of who you turned out to be in contrast to the absence he was in your life. Do you have any interest in getting to now your family on that side? They may surprise you.
My grandmother on that side is sweet, if, y’know … slow. I have not met my grandfather because he has parkinson’s and can’t travel. My sister is awesomepants, and it has been a delight to meet her at various times over the past five years.
My other relatives… well, I would travel to meet them if they expressed interest, but otherwise… *shrugs* They are so very, very different, culture wise, from my mom’s side of my family, as well as from my own.
*hugs* I know this must be a difficult time for you, with lots of things running through your mind.
whatever your childhood experience and family situation was and how it affected you… I just want to remind you that I think you are an incredible, intelligent, and amazingly brilliant person with inner strength and a kind heart. You have enriched many lives, including mine.
*hugs* Thank you. :) That means a lot to me.
You are succeeding. =)
*hug*
Agreed! *hugs*
x3
My thoughts are with you and yours. I’m glad you feel compelled to learn from the lives of others in order to better the mark you make.
I want to extend some notion, but I can’t find the right word for it. You are at peace with what happened, you don’t sound as though you need comfort or consoling, and yet I know this has got to hold some oddity of emotion.
Things are as they should be, in the end. Had he been a different sort of man, I’m sure he would have looked at your accomplishments with pride, having had a hand in your genetic makeup. He did do one very ‘dad’ thing, he taught you something important and by his removal from your life, ended up being instrumental in your strength.
This chapter is done, and it was a fascinating, if not conventional foray into the human spirit. You, as the hero, have triumphed. *squeezes your hand*
Thank you, it is indeed odd. There is very little to actually process, and yet it seems to require some time to sink in. In many senses, he might as well have been deceased (for me) long ago.
Not knowing him in the end, nor knowing how much he might have gathered about me through my grandparents, I do not know whether he might have been proud of me anyway.
Thank you again. *squeeze* I don’t feel so much the hero as much as the protagonist.
**hugs**
You are a good person, in your own right.
I think you turned out fabulous. *hugs*
*hugs* I’m sorry.
In a similar situation, as I have never met my own father, but have only spoken to him online a handful of times, I really understand how you feel. My mother handled things similarly to yours, and let me make my own decisions on what my relationship would be with him. I too, use my “sperm donor” as I call him, as an example to myself of what not to become, and how not to handle an important situation. It used to bother me when people used to say I looked like my father. Like you, I don’t wish for anything different. I adore my mother, and she was enough parent for 3 people, all by herself. Again, I read this, and it struck way too many chords with me as your situation and my own are very oddly similar.
All of this made me think of how I would react in the same situation, which I still think about occasionally…I hope I handle it with the grace and intelligence you are right now. You ARE a wonderful person, and I dont doubt you will leave many folks missing you when you depart this mortal coil MANY years from now;)
Excuse the ramble, I’m a bit exhausted…
*hug*
Thanks – I felt similarly about my middle name, which is the same as his first name, for some time. Eventually, my mom pointed out that my uncle and grandfather (on mom’s side) both share the same middle name as me. That, I was willing to accept.
Peace.
For certain. :)
Knowing you has enriched my life, be sure of that. Even small interactions can flare brightly.
*lots of hugs*
:)
*kotc* :)
The surest sign of a life well lived is how many of the tears at your wake are tears of happiness rather than sadness.
You have touched so many people in so many ways and the party we will throw in your memory will go on for a long time and the heavens themselves will ring with the joy of your life.
Also, you are totally kick ass.
A difficult circumstance, even at the best of times.
For what my opinion’s worth, and from what I know of others who know you, you are indeed an enriching presence in the world.
No matter what our backgrounds, there’s a lot to be said for anyone who becomes the person that he or she wants to be.
Hey, you provide a great “fuck you” to the people who insist that all children require a father and mother or they’ll turn out fucked up. You didn’t need your father to become a good man.
The automatic response on hearing of a death in the family is to offer condolences, but that doesn’t really seem to fit. You’re a wonderful person, and I’m glad I know you.
You are succeeding at enriching people’s lives, no doubt about it.
*big hugs*
I’m no sure what to say, other than that. :)
Hey, somehow I missed this post.
It is quietly amazing how our life chapters sort of write themselves.
:hugs:
I don’t really have the words for this. I had a hard time processing it when my grandmother passed away, because her Alzheimer’s stole her from me years before. The strangest sensation I think is yet to come. When you try later on to explain about him, who he was and wasn’t in your life, and then you’ll suddenly remember that he’s dead. And it’s just another detail in his story.
And when you realize that even horrible people can cause amazing things to happen in this world (namely, you and your sister) – you start to wonder just how much more can be done when you start with someone who is good and kind and caring and supportive and loving and devoted – a person who leaves a wake of compassion – most assuredly a person who enriches the lives of those he meets.
I’m perpetually amazed by you, dear, and my life is better for you being in it.
*hugs* Am catching up on lj and just saw this. You father did one good thing in life (other than donate dna to make you) and that was contribute a goal that is an integral part of your life philosophy. I’m glad in that respect he helped to make you who you are today.