Sunday, June 15, 2008

Father's Day Post

Well, I guess the title says it all.  Or not really.

My dad and I have a tentative relationship.  There are no problems between us, I love him and he loves me, but we have definite issues.

My parents divorced when I was very, very small.  I don't know the ins and outs of the whole situation and for EVER while I was growing up, I was poisoned with only the venom that flowed from the egg donor's mouth when my father was brought up.

But somehow, I managed to stay open minded.  I wanted, no desired and dreamed about, a real relationship with my dad.  Instead, I was forced to call a man who did not sire me, nor love me, dad just because I was told to.  I never felt that way though.  I used to dream about living with my dad.  I would forever fantasize about calling him up and begging him to come get me from whatever state I was imprisoned in at the time.  Instead, I had to settle for hearing his voice ONLY when the egg donor wanted extra money for something and forced me to call him collect.  I was never allowed to just call my dad and say hello, I love you, I miss you, nothing.

Every time I even broached the subject of going to visit, I was told that he didn't want me.  I was told that he was too busy with his new family.  And at one very low point in my life, I was tortured with the notion that if I ever moved away, my grandmother would die of a broken heart.  Who fucking says that to a child?

Anyway, I may not have gotten out, but my sister Tree did.  Once I went away to college, she finally broke free of the chains that were binding her to that life.  One day, after a very bad scene (it's not my place to relate the story), she called my dad up and asked him to come get her.  My dad and mom drove from Georgia into a massive snowstorm to pick my sister up.  They weren't even able to get her from where she was living.  Instead, she was dumped off at my stepfather's sister's house in another state and had to be ferried off of a mountain because my dad's car couldn't make it up in the storm.  

I wasn't that lucky.  I still feel like we are strangers in a way because we don't have those ties from a long term relationship.  We don't have any shared memories of a time before I was an adult.  I didn't get the opportunity to get to know my dad until I was old enough to vote.  In fact, I saw my dad for the first time in almost a decade when he came up to Ohio to be at my first wedding.  

So it feels weird.  To love someone so much, but not really know them.  Even now, we live so far apart that we don't see each other that often.  I am in Ohio and he is in Georgia and in a way, that separation is more than geographical.  If we are lucky, we might see each other twice a year.  We have managed to go golfing together and do some things that are meant for just the two of us, but it is still awkward.  For him as well as me, I am sure.

My dad has asked me numerous times if I blame him for the way I grew up.  I don't.  Life is hard and everyone has to do what they can to make it through.  My dad was away for six months out of every year serving our country.  Then he would come back to find out the he had been taken to court by the egg donor for more child support, or this or that.  Back then, there were few rights for military parents and if you were taken to court and you were out in the middle of the Indian Ocean and could not make it back, they didn't postpone it.  These days the laws have changed (although it goes by state, so I don't know about other people), and there is more leniency in scheduling, but not so then.  I can also see things from his side and I hurt for him because I know that this bothers him more than he lets on.

All of that aside, I love my father.  He and I are a lot alike and I get him.  I like to think that I inherited his sense of humor along with his big, giant ogre head.  I also got his ability to release deadly toxins into the atmosphere by way of bunghole, so that is cool.  And I don't ever doubt how much he loves me.  We have talked on numerous occasions about the past and while it will never be fully behind us, we don't allow it to color our present or keep us apart.  He has taught me so much about life and the living of it.  I don't get and will never understand his love of NASCAR and while I golf, I would go comatose watching the whatever Open for four days in a row, but we talk about sports and politics, religion and public issues.  We disagree on a lot of things, but we love each other.

So to my dad:

Happy Father's Day.  You are my inspiration, and the one person that I know I can call no matter what the situation.  I can count on you to call "bullshit" on me while supporting me through my decisions.  I know that I probably don't tell you often enough, but I love you so much and I hope that I can be as good of a mother to my children as you are a father to me and my sisters.  You are totally in my top five favorite people in the world and if I could, I would fly down to see you for a hug when I have a bad day.  You make it all better dad.



Kim Ayres said...

When we are younger, we desperately seek the approval of our parents. As we get older we begin to desperately seek the approval of our kids.

Your father will be no different.

fatwonkkid said...

well that back story is kinda sad. I am surprised you feel as strongly pro-dad considering your upbringing...good for you.

I am sure your hubby doesn't appreciate the genetically inherited noxious gas factory you have coming out of your backside though..

Avitable said...

You don't have a giant ogre head!

Tug said...

I'm glad you and your dad were able to connect eventually - dads are important to their girls...I wish my daughter's asshat dad would try; she's given up.

metalmom said...

You inherited his big,ogre head? That's cool. Where do you keep it?

Glamourpuss said...

In some ways, it's good that he was so separate from the other crap in your life. My father was the cause of most of it. Sigh.


Marianne said...

An awesome post.

Shark's kids didn't call him for Father's Day, but I suspect their egg donor had a hand in that.

It makes me sad for him. But your post gives me hope the girls will see their egg donor's true colors one day.

Chuck said...

That is one of the sweetest posts I have ever read. If your dad reads it I am sure he is crying a river, happy tears of course.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

If it will make you feel any better, you're welcome to sit in my lap and call me daddy...