"My Dad and I"
As a child, I guess I never sent my Dad, Fathers day cards, I don't remember, I know I
would have if I had known about that day, a day to celebrate Fathers. He was never
around when I was small, then when I got older, well, I guess it was something I had just
grown accustomed to, yet I remember feeling that I missed out, not being able to celebrate
my Dad, our Father's day together. It was a loss as a child, and no matter how you
slice it or grown from it, it is still a loss and I am in my 50's. There isn't much
sadness, hurt or anger anymore, just a sense of distance from something, I never really
had, but had always yearned for.
I am certain there are good, maybe even great memories of me and my dad, why can't I
recall even one? Is it me or was it us, we just never had shared moments, thus
shared memories? Why was that? Was that because he never had that with his
Dad, I have no idea, I know nothing about his Dad or his relationship with his Dad?
You know I have one picture of me and my dad. I was about five, we were on the
bank of the Ohio River, near Fort Massac, he was sitting on the edge of an old bass
fishing boat and I am standing beside him with my hand on his shoulder, neither of us
looking at each other, I can't recall us ever really looking into each others eyes.
That picture was a little two by three snapshot I had enlarged by a five by seven.
I wanted to display it, somehow saying that is My Dad and I, you know it took me years
before I could ever put the picture out, I just didn't know what to say. I would put
it out, look at it feel an emptiness or something and then turn it face down, then after
awhile I just took it down.
Over the years I came to have other father figures at different times in my life.
Several of my Mother's brothers cared for me. Ed, Bob and Floyd all cared for me
and gave me love during my childhood. God has been another one of my Father's who cares
for me. I think they all saved my from despair and eventual self-destruction.
My mother's Father cared for me, but he wasn't able to show love to his children, at
least it seemed that way, guess their was too much unresolved past. I knew he wanted to be
loved and wanted to give love. He just didn't know how, and he would not let anyone teach
him. I don't really know, but I imagine the only father/teacher he allowed in his life was
his father. I am thankful and greateful that I have more than one father.
I put the picture of me and My Dad up several years ago, I look at it every now and
then-- seeking memories about a small boy and his Dad.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: After reading this article, you are invited to look at my Making Peace with your Past Seminar/Group
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