Dad was a good man

In previous posts I had been critical of my father and while I think there is still some merit to the issues I had with the man, I was being pretty unfair to him.  I described by father a while back as a good man but a terrible father. I realized that is a harsh way to describe him. As a child I felt that my father was emotionally distant and did not take much interest in the things we did, so long as we were quiet and didn’t make messes. I realize that my view of my father has been from a selfish place, but for the majority of my life that is how I felt. We would often hear things my father would say that reinforced the feeling that he could care less if we were there or not.  Sayings like, “You can have kids or you can have things, your mother chose kids.” There was one particular event in my childhood solidified my feelings about my father. My mother left home when I was probably 8 or 9 and left a note that I don’t ever remember reading, so I am not sure what it said.  However I do remember vividly my father telling us kids that it was our fault that she left. That event was traumatic and my father’s reaction to it was devastating.

When I became an adult I started to see the man in a different way.  We developed a different relationship. One that allowed me to look past what I felt from him as a child and I could see the kind of man he really was. I started developing more respect for him. I could see that he was a kind man. That he was a decent man. The kind of man who would help an elderly lady across the road or stick up for a woman being abused by her husband, both of these things I witnessed him do. I saw a man who was very social and was able to strike up a conversation with anyone. I saw a man who had many friends. Finally I saw a man who would sacrifice for people who needed help, like the headstones he provided to people he knew in his hometown cemetery that did not have the means to provide headstones themselves.

I hit a speed bump in my trek to understanding this man better when I saw him with his grandchildren.  He was very proud to be a grandfather and he doted on his grandchildren. They were very special to him and I was often time jealous that he was so loving with them, but didn’t show that same sort of affection to us. It was difficult for me to understand what was different between us and the grandkids. I realized it had a lot to do with the notion that he could send them home and that they were someone else’s problem.

A few days before my father passed away, he told me that he was sorry for being a lousy father.  I told him that he did the best he could and at the time I meant it (and still do mean it). I saw that he was truly sorry and that he sincerely felt that if he could do it over knowing what he knows now that things might have been different.  I understood that my father’s own background did not prepare him to be the kind of father that I wanted. He lost his mother when he was very young and his stepmother was not the most loving person.  He grew up, often being in trouble for something.  He did not finish high school and instead opted to enlist in the Navy at the age of 17. He was in his early twenties when he met my mother and lived a bachelor’s life for the first several years of their marriage.  My mother told me that she didn’t think their marriage would last in the first five years. The social part of him that I saw as an adult was very much how he lived life in those early years.  He and mom owned a bar for a period of time in those early years of their marriage, which was a shocker when I found this out because I never really saw my parents drink. So knowing that he had a tough childhood himself and what kind of person he was, I understood why he might not have been the father I would have wanted.

Finally, the way I described my father when asked about him recently was colored by the feelings I had surrounding his illness and his passing. My mother and I shared anger and resentment towards my father for giving up on life. I cannot say for certain that he should still be here, but according to the doctors (before the pneumonia) he was looking good to go another five years before having to worry about cancer again. However, he could not deal with my mother’s illness.  Once she was diagnosed, at the end of his treatment, with terminal cancer his world went dark. He because incredibly emotional and the man I had never before seen cry would now cry with the slightest mention of my mother’s condition. The anger I held towards him was because he gave into what should have been a recoverable bout with pneumonia.  He saw a way to end his misery and in doing so left my mother to go on facing her own illness without him.  She really wanted him to be there for her as she had been for him. He couldn’t muster the strength to see his wife of 52 years die and made sure that he went first. I imagine that he was also unable to imagine what life would be like being left behind with his children, whom he thought he had done a bad job of raising. Of course we would have made the best of the situation, but he was not willing to find out what that would be like. I was very disappointed that he would do that to my mother.

I have since forgiven him for leaving her and I hope that she was able to find peace with it before her passing. We often talked about my father, but had not done so in the days/weeks leading up to her passing.  The last time we talked about my father was only for her to say that we would have all been better off if she had gone with him. Of course I told her that was hogwash and that I was glad she fought for as much time as she could.

So I look at the man (kid) in the picture above from his navy days and think, he would turn out to be a wonderful man who, while he may not meet all the needs of his family, he would stick with a plan to provide for them to the best of his ability.  That he would work hard to make sure we had what we needed, during his life and after he had gone. He left the world without debt and a nest egg that would take care of his kids. He sacrificed many years of personal happiness to make sure that happened. I am thankful that he went out of his way to plan for his retirement and beyond. I am glad that he was able to spend the last 10 years or so of his life enjoying life to its fullest.  I am sorry that I had ill feelings about him and I hope that he knows how much I respect and love him.

Thank you Dad!