For the first time, I thought I’d try out having an audio component to this essay, so click above if you’d like to hear me read it. Or keep scrolling to read it in its entirety.
Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about my dad. But more specifically, about my feelings around my dad when he dies. My dad isn’t in a good place, I’ve talked previously about his alcohol-induced dementia, and I feel like it’s only a matter of time until he’s gone. He’s gotten worse since I wrote that post, and it feels like a ticking clock is on his life.
It’s something my husband has asked me in the past, whether or not I’m going to have a full on breakdown the way I would when my mom dies. But the most honest answer I can give to that question is “I don’t know.”
My relationship with my dad has always been complicated. He was in and out and in and out of my life. In the early days of my parent’s divorce, he was firmly in. I saw him and my older siblings regularly, though sadly I don’t remember much of it. And then he’d disappear for a few years, only to come back telling us that he was back for good.
I always believed him.
But naturally after a month or two, he’d disappear again and I’d be left wondering if it was something I said or did, until I got older and realized it truly had nothing to do with me. It was about his addiction, and that he likely was never truly cut out for being a father. I’m good with all of that and the way things have turned out.
I’ve forgiven him for a lot, I’ve tuned out some of the hurtful parts. I won’t forget them, but I will focus on the good.
Instead of focusing on him screaming at me on the phone when I told him he couldn’t walk me down the aisle at my wedding, I focus on how happy he was when we did the father daughter dance together.
Instead of focusing on the ways that he barely knew me, or what I was studying, I focus on the fact that he showed up to all three graduations I had, in high school, in college, and when I got my master’s degree.
Instead of focusing on him not being a part of my kid’s lives, I focus on the fact that he was able to meet them at all, and see me as a parent, before his dementia took over.
My husband mentioned recently that he feels my dad has almost gotten off easy, that he’s never had to atone for the ways in which he’s hurt people in his life. One day he was there, the next day he was gone, and so there has not been any sort of closure for the rest of us left behind.
And while I do think that’s true, I also can’t stop thinking about how my dad will be leaving this earth - not knowing who he is, not knowing who loves him (because we do, no matter if he deserves it or not), and how maybe that is punishment enough? The ways in which his disease has progressed, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It’s so hard to see this person that he has become, knowing who he once was.
But I guess the question I’m wrestling with is, how do we reconcile who he is now and what he’s going through, with who he once was and the ways he’s hurt us? Does the slate get wiped clean and now we just see him through new eyes? Do we continue to hold onto the hurt and anger and let him die with no one by his side?
It’s a complicated question, with an answer that is neither right nor wrong. And I think until the day actually comes, I won’t know how I feel.
If someone hasn’t been in your life for most of your life, will you even notice when they’re gone for good? Or, will I go through a grieving process just as I would with any other death close to me? Will I always wonder if I should’ve tried harder with him, if I should’ve forgiven earlier, if I should’ve made more of an effort to see him or to answer his calls?
Or maybe, that was never my burden to carry as the child. Maybe the fault lies squarely with him and I’ll feel relief that I don’t have to question it anymore. That all I can do now is remember those good times, the times he did show up for me, and let the rest go, to set down the load and to move forward making sure history never repeats itself.
Because in the end the question isn’t really “will I miss my dad when he dies?” The question is actually “will I feel I did my best to love him and be loved in return by him?”
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I have had you on my mind since I read and listened to your post this week. I commend you for looking on the positive side of all of your negative experiences with your dad. That is admirable. I too had a mother that was in and out of my life. I shed so many tears wanting her acceptance, and then getting her acceptance only to be let down when, she found something in me that was not acceptable. When she died, I shed no tears. I truly felt that all of the tears I shed previously ( for years) were mourning the mother that I never had. The mother who never cared and accepted me unconditionally. I missed her years and years ago as I wanted her acceptance but when she died I no longer missed her, and I can honestly say that I do not feel that my life is incomplete without her. The one big positive that I take from having such an uncaring parent is that I have given my children the type of mothering that I never had. I am proud of the relationship I have with my children, and I can truly say that I unconditionally love them, and my children know that. Again, thank you for your honesty. I am going to become a paid subscriber. You have a wonderful gift and I look forward to more of your posts.
Forgiveness is a powerful healer. I think you are doing all the things that are best for YOU. Continue to do just that. BIG GIANT HUG to you. xoxox