My sister called last night to tell me that my father's wife is critically ill and will likely pass away in 48 hours. According to sis, my father is so broken up that he is on suicide watch. Unfortunately, in a not too compassionate moment in my life the words "oh PULEEZ" burst from my lips when she told me this.
I am sorry the woman is dying and I wish her a peaceful journey as the wheel turns. But I don't know her. I know my dad married her a few years ago. I didn't know they had lived together for 20 yrs according to what sis told me last night. This is wife number 3 and i only briefly ever met wife number two. My father has not contacted me since Chet was about 3. He has moved multiple times and obviously we were never really close or he would have kept in contact.
I try to be mature about this. Rationally I know that my father and I never got along. Literally, from the time I could talk, never.got.along. And I don't know why we butt heads so badly as I do remember very much wanting his approval and praise. So much so that I went to R rated movies at the drive ins with him when I was way too young for them. My mother wouldn't go and i knew he wanted company. So much so that i read the books he was reading for college so that i could talk about them with him. I was 10 when I read Oedipus the King and I remember talking with him about it. I would offer to help him strip copper wire from his electrical side jobs, went hunting when I abhor killing things etc. But we could never get close. He couldn't get me and I couldn't get him. He had a capacity for choosing what should have been special moments and bringing me to tears--my high school graduation, a dance recital, the day I went to my first job. I don't look back at pictures from my childhood because the moments most people want to remember are very much tinged with sadness for me.
By the time i was a teen I was sure that I was the reason for discord in our house. Obviously not as my folks divorced the year after I left home. But well before then, we had both stopped trying. I felt he made it pretty clear he didn't love me or approve of me and I was totally done in that way that only a teen can be.
Yet I did try again when Chet came home. I thought he would want to know his only grandson. That was also when I met wife #2. A couple years after that he moved and never told me. He has since lived in multiple states, divorced wife #2 and obviously married wife #3. He kept ties with my sister, visiting her and flying out to see her (we live about 40 minutes from each other) and even on occasion flying her out to visit him. Pretty clear statement on his part as to our lack of relationship.
Which I have sort of come to a peaceful place with. There will always be hurt, because I don't know what about me he doesn't like. I don't know if I could have fixed things. I do know that the loss has given me insights for my children who have experienced loss and perhaps an empathy I would not otherwise have had. And I am left trying to say the right thing to my sister who is obviously worried for him and grieving and I feel about as connected to this whole thing as if a distant neighbor shared a story from their family. Life is weird sometimes.
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2 comments:
There is probably nothing you could have done as a child. I understand how detached you feel now. And life goes on. I am glad you came to terms with what you never had and were able to let it go. {{{Hugs}}}
Sad about your non relationship. Like GB'S mom said, glad you've came to terms with it.
May your step-mom go peacefully into the goodbyes.
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