****picture of my real dad, John, my sister Nikki on the left and me, the freaked out one, on the right. He didn’t care for me that much and he left me to always help my sister (he didn’t believe I was his at first or something) so my mom and Aunt C say, but my other Aunt J says how much he loved us, even if it was for a short while, he loved us. And that fills quite a gap in my chest. His love from what…two years…is enough to help me get over the “unlove” from the next father figure. Doesn’t make up for all that I lost and gained, nor the fact that there is some irreparable damage done to me, but hey, I’m not asking for too much. He loved me then. He loved me. Aunt J told me last week on the anniversary of his death that I have my dad’s beautiful, dark eyes and long lashes. No one’s ever told me I had anything of his. I cried because I was so happy. I have his eyes. Despite the comb-over and goggle glasses, he actually was a handsome guy. This one time, after not talking for years (decades) I found him in a bar, and I sat and had a beer with him, I had a beer with my daddy, and he took out the pictures of my sisters and I in his old wallet, and he knew somehow where we were living and what our jobs were. He was like an excited child that I was sitting with him. There was no past or future there, we were just blood relatives having a beer, wishing for so much from each other and not knowing what that was.
2 thoughts on “Just a Snippet to Share”
I had a similar experience with my birth mother. I was fortunate to have had her in my childhood a little longer than you had tour father. My parents divorced when I was three; my dad was given custody. I saw my Mom some during the holidays and in the summer until I was 8. However, after being in the backseat and watching her and my step dad sell marijuana out the car window, I decided, that I did not want to return for visits. However, form that time until I was 21 YO, I had NO contact with her. From the age of 16-20 I lived in the same town. When contact was finally made, it was because I sought her out. It was still a few years after that I re-established a real relationship with her and my sisters. However, for about the last ten years I have hade a pretty good relationship with her. This year has been very difficult however as she had a major stroke last November and now she has lost her speech. You can see her frustration as she tries to communicate her feelings and wants, but just can’t get her mouth to cooperate.
In your case, after all those years and discovering that your father carried that picture as old and ragged as it had to have been, you have to know with ALL certainty, that despite all of his failures and your feelings of hurt, rejection and abandonment – He DID love you, and I am guessing if you work hard to remember it, when you were sitting in that bar with him, you could see it and ALL of his regret in his eyes.
I know that thought does not heal the years of hurt, but hopefully it helps you start moving in that direction!
One breath, one step, one day at a time!
Hope In Recovery
Wow Amy, I applaud you for being able to get this down. I can truly relate to your story because it mirrors my own in many ways. I’ve spent years trying to give voice to those emotions to no avail and here in this short anecdote you have said all that I have ever wanted to say. I know the feeling so well of being filled up by the idea that I was once loved by my father/stepfather (even if just for a moment). Thank you for sharing. I’m happy to have found your blog, there’s so much to explore and read through here…looking forward to visiting often.