My Dad is a nice guy. I can't say that he's not. He never hit me when I was a kid, but then he might not have been around me long enough to be driven to that point. He rarely, if ever, raised his voice to me...but that could be for the same aforementioned reason.
My Mom and Dad have been divorced for as long as I can remember. If my life were a movie then I would be the child that was to save the marriage, but then I don't think REAL people actually verbalize such things. At any rate, my miracle birth wasn't enough to keep them together. (I almost died...not at birth, but shortly after)
I have no idea if Mom and Dad were good together. They do seem like two very different people...maybe cuz they are. Mom could probably make it with anyone...she is a tad Co-D...well, a smidgen more than a tad. My Dad might be, too, he has been with a cold bitchy woman, also for as long as I can remember.
Growing up I would see my Dad sometimes on my Birthday, always at Christmas, and usually for two weeks in the Summer. He didn't stay in one place for too long, because he worked for the railroad, so he would get transferred a lot.
I think, as a child, my Dad represented a sort of safe haven; a place to go to escape my real life...which was pretty dark and disturbing.
My stepfather was a very violent chap, both physically and verbally. We lived in fear, I suppose. I remember I could hear his car pull-up in front of the house...which was quite a distance from the front window...it was my cue to quickly make it to my bedroom. It was imperative to get to the bedroom before he walked in the house, because once he got there if you left the room he would freak out on you, thinking the only reason why you left was because of him...which it was.
I am digressing...Horror Stories of Tom The Evil Step-Dad will be another entry.
So, I had that at my home and of course once or twice a month I was molested by my Grandfather on my Mother's side. So, two weeks at my dad's huge house in the country by the lake seemed like a little slice of heaven for me. Man, I loved going there.
Dad and Step-mom would do stuff with my Sister and I. (although my sis didn't like going there so much...she didn't like the 'country life') We would go into town and see a movie, and spend an hour or so in the arcade, or we would go to some amusement park for a couple of days. It was fun. At Dad's it was always fun.
As I grew older, I needed more that just fun. I needed a father who would offer guidance and a male perspective on the world. I needed a father who would do more than play me doubles on Mortal Kombat. I needed a father who would be interested in what I was doing in school, and maybe show up to one of my plays once, or offer me support when I came out to the family and said, "Guess what...you were right all along...I am gay!"
Over the past 10 years I have realized Dad was never truly there for us. He provided my mom with 120 dollars a month to help take care of both my sister and I and then bought us expensive gifts at Christmas and at Birthdays, which incidentally always set my mom into a 2 or 3 day depression. I never understood why, until I got older.
I began hearing from Dad less and less. It got to the point where I would see him every Christmas...but then last Christmas I decided, "What's the point?" I couldn't see any reason why we should exchange gifts when neither one of us knew who we are buying for, and probably never really did. Dad just got lucky when I was younger...I was a kid...I liked toys.
I once sent Dad an Email, telling him how I felt, and that I didn't think we knew each other at all, and should probably get started on that soon...we weren't getting any younger. I got an email back from my Step-mom; she had confiscated the email. She said my Dad would not be reading it, and that I was an ungrateful son who had no right to be saying those things to my father...Hadn't I remembered all of the nice things he had bought for me? Perfect. It all made sense.
So, I'm not getting him a Father's Day card this year, or a tie, or a golf club...because I feel weird calling him Dad. He was just a toy-provider when I was a kid...a place to visit. He never really was a "Father," real nice guy, though.
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Epilogue of sorts,
I guess I don't really have a "father," in the way that the image has been constructed. I do wish I had it in my life, though. I have always felt slightly out of balance without a strong male influence in my life. I have wondered if this has also been a contributing factor to being gay, at least in my life...not that I am looking for a reason.
There are a lot of things that I think have been threads in our culture as people since the beginning, that are beginning to fray or disappear. Our quick progression (regression?) culturally is causing a re-evaluation of ourselves in how we fit in the grand scheme and also culture as a whole is set up. I wonder what the picture will be 50 years from now...100 years from now...
And that, too, is another entry.
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