I couldn't always say Happy Father's Day to my Dad. Our relationship over the years has been stressed and sketchy. That's I guess what happens when your parent's divorce when you are 6 years old. We didn't have an every other week or weekend arrangement. It seems like every once in a while he would call on a Saturday morning & he would come and get us and we would be home on Sunday in time to go to 11am mass.
Wow what quality time. Thanks for spending less than 24 hours with me.
In fact, very few people I know have ever laid eyes on my Dad. I think they wondered if he even existed. I would show them pictures as proof of his existence. If you have ever had a sighting of my Dad, I assure you it's an event as rare as sighting Halley's Comet. It only happens once every how ever many years.
I often tell people that my Dad is an enigma. An enigma is defined as a person of puzzling or contradictory character. Yep, that's him exactly, puzzling.
There was a really long time where he didn't speak to me. Or I didn't speak to him or whatever, bottom line, we didn't talk. This lasted for 11 years.
Yes, we are a hard headed, stand your ground, never give in family.
There was a time in 2001 where he attempted to rekindle our relationship. It was the end of September, after 9/11, and my grandmother had just died. I remember that the phone rang and I saw my other half look at the caller id. When he told me that it was my Dad calling he might as well have told me my dead grandmother was calling. I would have had an easier time believing that.
We talked back and forth for a few months. One day I told my Mom that I felt like I was betraying her by talking to him. She was the one who was always there for me, not him. She told me not to feel that way because there was nothing that she shared with me that he could take away from her. It was his loss.
But it was my loss too.
My Dad didn't come to more than a few dance revues, he didn't attend my chorus concerts, my high school or college graduation or even my wedding.
Yes, it kinda smarts.
Soooo, in December 2001, when he doesn't call me for my birthday, I was done. I felt like I had opened the door again only to get stomped on. No more. You're dead to me.
Fast forward to 2003, the year I find out I have MS. I start thinking about my Dad. September 11th had made me think, what if my Dad died and I had never spoken to him ever again.
Did I mention my Dad is a pilot? Could have been him that day.
So now I have MS and this diagnosis really rocks my world. I have a friend, who happens to be a priest, and we talk about the importance of forgiveness. I decide it probably is time to forgive.
I was carrying all that hurt and pain around like I had packed a suitcase for a month long trip. Stress doesn't help MS. I needed to forgive.
And I did.
I told him there was no need to relive the past because nothing was going to change it. We just needed to move forward and worry about our behavior from now on.
And we did.
Thank goodness. I needed to live with him for 6 weeks after Katrina.
The morale of the story:
If you have your father and he has always been there for you make sure you tel him how much you love him for that because it is a choice to be a good parent.
but
if you haven't talked to your father in a while think about doing it. It might be good for you.
After all, for now, we are living as happily ever after as we can.
