Week 24
Father’s Day is today. I have a father. We all do. Some are alive and some are not. Mine is alive, he just sucks. It’s a fact of life. I’m not proud of it, but, I’m not ashamed of it either. Some are good parents and some are not. It took adulthood for me to understand that some parents are just a biological contributor and nothing more.
You see, my father was a coward who moved his family halfway across the country, then he just left and never came back. I understand that adults have their own problems. But, to abandon your own children and leave them in the wake of your wrecked relationship like flotsam and jetsam floating on the sea is still far beyond my comprehension. How can you say you love someone, then turn and walk away… forever?
I can’t imagine leaving my children behind. Not for a second do I think I could have lived without them. That just makes me a different kind of person from my father. My family has always come first in my life. They enrich my life. I don’t feel sorry for myself and I don’t want anyone else to feel sorry for me. Stories like mine are a dime a dozen.
I had some amazing role models in the dad department growing up. My best friend’s dad was one of the greatest. He was always very involved with not only his children, but their friends as well. He was a loving, kind, compassionate father. He was the kind of man who loaned himself out to a little girl who had just lost her father, and wrapped her in his own rare kind of accepting love. He was my first Pop... Pop Finley.
I grew up with a grandfather that did everything in his power to step up to the plate as a role model when my father dumped us (my mother, my sister and myself) practically on his and my grandmother’s doorstep. Not for a second have I ever doubted how much he loved me. He was a wonderful man and an exceptional Grand-DAD.
When I got married, I gained a new dad, my father-in-law, otherwise known as Pop (my second Pop). He accepted me from the beginning and for the first time, I felt like I had a real father. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that I would someday be the person who would end up taking care of him and my mother-in-law in their twilight years, but I did. The last three years of his life, I was blessed to share a kind of love that defies description as I became the parent and Alzheimer’s made him the child.
When it comes to dads, I have been extraordinarily blessed. Though they have all passed on, I am thankful for the time they were in my life. As for my sperm-donor, he missed out on more than he could ever know. He missed out on knowing me.
Very well said!
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