I Wish I Could Talk To My Father

I've been thinking of my father lately. He died in 81 after a long illness with cancer, he was 58 and maybe me turning 50 has increased my thoughts of him. I wish I could sit and talk with him, just about the things that are happening in our day. I guess what I am saying is that I would like to have got to know him, other than a father, more as a friend.

For many years I blamed him for how I was brought up, anger may even be the word. His death propelled my drinking in to new highs, or is that lows, it was how I dealt with the aftermath. My mother, fearing what the neighbours would say, forbade us to mention his illness whilst he was alive, and even he never knew the facts. Its a stressful way for a 22 year old to live, for my 28 year old brother it proved too stressful and he took off, only returning near the end. So ours was not a house of emotions, which didn't help the drinking much.

After he died I spent eleven years not mourning, but blaming him for all my problems, how I saw the world. It's not a recipe to follow in recovery and led to clinical depression, which apparently, according to the psychologist was caused by the emotional abuse as a child. Something I blamed him again for. Then one day I stopped blaming him and started to love him, it wasn't a conscious decision it just happened.

I guess he did the best he could, and I only see that now with the perspective of my age, have I as a father done any better? no is the answer to that. But the more I think about my childhood, the older I get, the more I see that it wasn't my father who was the big bad wolf, it was my mother and brother, who worked as a team for themselves. Here's an example from later in life.

My ex wife, tried to stab me, puncturing my clothing three times, I managed to escape and get to my mothers. You would think this would be a place of safety, somewhere I could be protected. When my mother heard my tale, she responded by saying that I best be careful when I returned home that night. You really have to stop and think about that sentence and what it means.

These days I have little to do with my mother and brother, the card at christmas and birthdays is as close as we get. I'm ok with that, but lately I have been wishing I could sit and talk with dad, just talk about stuff. For I realise now that the one who cared for me most, was the one I thought cared least.

Take care all of you and have a good weekend.