Daddy Dearest
My father didn't love me.
When I was about a year old he and his wife (who, for the record, is not my mother) moved away and until I hunted him as an adult he never called, wrote made inquiries about me. I hear you asking, how do you know that? Cause my family didn't stray far from the old homestead for many many years and even a casual attempt to find would have borne fruit. When I did finally track him down and explain who I was the first words my father said to me were,"What can I do for you? Yes, I know who you are. What do you want?"
No explanations, no apologies...nothing. Questions about my extended family brought a similar reaction. When I asked for contact info about my "aunt" I was told he would rather not, she didn't know about me, and wouldn't care except as further proof of what a failure as a person he was. I was told I would have to wait for him to speak to my paternal grandparents first before being allowed to contact them. I was in my early 20's when I first contacted him, I'm almost 40 now and I've only had one conversation with his mother, who to be clear was lovely and kind but I've still never met her. Which I freely admit I share responsibility for. I don't know if my aunt even knows I exist.
When you grow up without a dad you fantasize what it would be like to finally meet him. Who he will be, what he will say. The truth, in my case, was a sad distance from my girlhood fantasies. I imagine such is usually the case. Though I rather doubt it's a pitiful as my case was. Of course that may very well be my own self pity talking. The truth you see is that he actually did make something of an effort for a year or two after that to stay in contact. Only it was never about me. He wanted contact info for my mom, he wanted to see her, he talked about reuniting with her, marrying her and being the family we never were. Of being "a dad" to me! *SNORT*
He loved my mother, as best as he was capable of. A few years after tracking him down he had a stroke, or a cardiac event, I honestly don't remember, and he left instructions for my brother to contact my mother. Not me, no mention of me at all. My mom passed the information along of course.
When he died a few years ago I was so angry...I'm still angry. I never got an apology. I never got to hear my father say he loved me, He was sorry he left me, he wished he'd seen me grow up. Kissed a boo boo or threatened to hurt a boy who'd hurt me. I never will.
I'm told I have my father's eyes. I wouldn't know. His eyes saw me, but these eyes don't remember ever seeing him. I'm haunted by all the things I never got to say and now there is no recourse. So tonight I sit here thinking about my father and wondering how a man could have a daughter, his first born child and not feel anything. I have 3 uncles I adore, all of whom are father's and 5 male cousins 3 of them are dads and they all love their kids to the moon and back...my dad never even sent me a birthday card...I just don't understand...
When I was about a year old he and his wife (who, for the record, is not my mother) moved away and until I hunted him as an adult he never called, wrote made inquiries about me. I hear you asking, how do you know that? Cause my family didn't stray far from the old homestead for many many years and even a casual attempt to find would have borne fruit. When I did finally track him down and explain who I was the first words my father said to me were,"What can I do for you? Yes, I know who you are. What do you want?"
No explanations, no apologies...nothing. Questions about my extended family brought a similar reaction. When I asked for contact info about my "aunt" I was told he would rather not, she didn't know about me, and wouldn't care except as further proof of what a failure as a person he was. I was told I would have to wait for him to speak to my paternal grandparents first before being allowed to contact them. I was in my early 20's when I first contacted him, I'm almost 40 now and I've only had one conversation with his mother, who to be clear was lovely and kind but I've still never met her. Which I freely admit I share responsibility for. I don't know if my aunt even knows I exist.
When you grow up without a dad you fantasize what it would be like to finally meet him. Who he will be, what he will say. The truth, in my case, was a sad distance from my girlhood fantasies. I imagine such is usually the case. Though I rather doubt it's a pitiful as my case was. Of course that may very well be my own self pity talking. The truth you see is that he actually did make something of an effort for a year or two after that to stay in contact. Only it was never about me. He wanted contact info for my mom, he wanted to see her, he talked about reuniting with her, marrying her and being the family we never were. Of being "a dad" to me! *SNORT*
He loved my mother, as best as he was capable of. A few years after tracking him down he had a stroke, or a cardiac event, I honestly don't remember, and he left instructions for my brother to contact my mother. Not me, no mention of me at all. My mom passed the information along of course.
When he died a few years ago I was so angry...I'm still angry. I never got an apology. I never got to hear my father say he loved me, He was sorry he left me, he wished he'd seen me grow up. Kissed a boo boo or threatened to hurt a boy who'd hurt me. I never will.
I'm told I have my father's eyes. I wouldn't know. His eyes saw me, but these eyes don't remember ever seeing him. I'm haunted by all the things I never got to say and now there is no recourse. So tonight I sit here thinking about my father and wondering how a man could have a daughter, his first born child and not feel anything. I have 3 uncles I adore, all of whom are father's and 5 male cousins 3 of them are dads and they all love their kids to the moon and back...my dad never even sent me a birthday card...I just don't understand...
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