My father died twenty years ago today.
It's strange to think about it now, especially as I hurriedly run around packing for a trip today. I used to be acutely aware of this date every year. For the first few years, I would actually make the drive out to Robert Lee, Texas, thenothing little West Texas town where he's buried. It's been a long time since I've been out there, though. After I moved away from Texas, I think in some ways I moved away from some of my grief as well. It's one of those boxes I never entirely unpacked once I returned.
Even now, I'm not sure that "grief" is the right word. We had a complicated relationship, to put it mildly. When he died, my father left a lot of family strife and unanswered questions; he suffered a massive heart aneurysm and was almost certainly dead before he hit the ground. We were all subsequently denied any sort of dramatic, confessional death bed scene, but honestly, I don't know that it would have been any easier if he'd lingered. My father wasn't very good at expressing his emotions, and he was especially bad at processing guilt. I suppose in some ways, I am, too.
I could write so much about my father, but I don't think I'm even going to try today. I'll simply say that I'm not sure that I miss him exactly, but I miss having the feeling and the possibility that there might be a day in the future where he and I could figure things out, and I might know for certain, in a way that I absolutely don't know now and maybe never have known in my life, whether or not my father loved me.
If I only get one thing right with Schuyler, it will be that she will never have to wonder such a thing.
15 comments:
I'm right there with you. My mother died 23 years ago this July. I'm still largely ambivalent, resulting in massive shame for the lack of missing her. My brother has spent the last 23 years recreating her downward spiral.
Damn, this stuff is complicated. Just keep loving Schuyler and Julie. The rest will take care of itself.
I barely remember any mention of your dad when we were in high school, but I know K and I love you, and not out of some sort of genetic obligation. It's also glaringly obvious that you love Schuyler and she knows it.
But, if I may use your own quote when I told you that your book made me cry..."pussy".
Tear it up in Nashville, brother.
(feel free to edit this before you post it :-)
Feeling your pain, Rob. I'm still relieved that my father is gone, but I'm left having to deal with an angry and extremely demented mother who takes it all out on me, and an impossible sister who flies in on her broom periodically to upset everyone. I moved far away from home 37 years ago so I wouldn't have to deal with toxic family members. And now they're here, and I'm responsible for them. Therapy helps, pharmaceuticals help, but nothing will beat the resolution that only death can provide.
Robert, I have to believe he loved you. Our parents were raised so different than we are raising our children now days. We want to correct the mistakes made by our parents and I like to think they did a little better job than what their parents did with them. So I'm sure you were loved by your father no matter how complicated the relationship was, maybe just not loved like we love our children. The important thing in life is to do better than our parents did with us.
It's the loss of that sense of possibility that I grieved when my sister died decades ago, after a shared family life that had been, at the least, extremely difficult.
That sense has always overpowered any notion of grief for the person herself. It's terrible, I suppose, but maybe inevitable when the relationships are so complex and so unrewarding while the parties are alive.
You've broken the mold -- Schuyler clearly knows that she's loved. For what it's worth, so does my offspring, and that was a precedent-breaker, too.
She surely will not. You are a beautiful father and the way you've written about your own father is so full of respect and perhaps a complicated love -- well, I appreciate that.
Weird, we seem to be on the same track this week. I've been considering getting back in touch with my estranged father just to make sure I don't have any undealt with fealings when he does kick the bucket. It's hard to know if I would rather deal with the all his crap now or my regret later. Your post didn't help, thanks a lot, friend. Just kidding...gives me something to think about.
I think it is my husband's and my own complicated relationship with our fathers that has shaped how we are as parents. Both of us had rough childhoods and have vowed to never subject our children to the same. Good or bad our parents shape how we parent. You have opted for the good:)
Although my dad is still alive, I (like others who have commented) struggle with what to do now and how that will feel after he's gone. It is so difficult. I wish you peace and I hope that your relationship with Schuyler helps you find that peace.
>>>If I only get one thing right with Schuyler, it will be that she will never have to wonder such a thing.
No worries, you got it right.
I would imagine in some way he did love you. You said he wasn't good at expressing his emotions, and maybe that also means he wasn't good at expressing love. Maybe it was a cycle in his family that he wasn't able to break.
When a person is gone and no longer able to answer the questions I find it best not to harbor on the "what if" possibilities and just let go of the anger and the hate and the pain. Life is short, but it can feel like an eternity of hell if you hold on to the bad things.
No she will not. Have a good trip, full of great words and even better feelings.
I'm sure your father loved you more than you will ever know. He probably didn't know how to show it--like most men back in the day. I'm glad that is changing with our generation. Keep on showing Schuyler how much you love her and she'll be just fine. :)
My sister died 13 years ago this week as well. Always a hard week for me too. Sending you family love. I spent mine digging our roots back to 1300's on ancestry.com You and I have some pretty cool stuff going on back there.
I printed of the picture of your dad to send to mine. As your dad's first cousin, you will be interested to know my dad currently has a heart anuerysm they are monitoring. He will find it interesting since he loved your dad a lot. Hugs- Shannon
I just read this post, and boy does it hit home for me. My dad died last month, and your "simply say" paragraph sums up exactly what I've been feeling.
Here's to healing for us both.
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