And, like many I suppose, we had a complicated relationship.
He was a mean drunk during my childhood and early adolescence, quit booze and started making an effort when I was 13 or 14 (but getting too old to really bond with him at that point), and then only saw each other when I was home for college in my early adulthood. I always appreciated how he tried to be a better dad with my younger siblings, because his effort showed how much he wanted that second chance.
That said, my parents saved nothing for retirement and 99% of my conversations with him as an adult were him calling to borrow money. It wasn’t entirely his fault. He had a thriving roofing business until 2008, and now we can look back and see that (at least here in the US) basically everyone’s purchasing power was permanently lowered after that. His mistake was adopting so many kids so late in life. His kindness outweighed his good sense.
He started working in the 1950’s at age 11 and never stopped, supporting his younger siblings and his mom. (His father died young.) Until a few months ago he was driving with my mom for DoorDash at age 83, because that’s just how cruel and uncaring the US is to people.
And, he was very sick. Two years ago he was having trouble using a seat belt and basic door locks due to mild dementia, and he once lost control of his bladder in my car, which I’ve lent mom and dad for the past two years. When I visited him six weeks ago, it was clear to me that he was dying. Thankfully he woke up for a bit, knew I was there, and I told him to relax because we weren’t getting on the roof today.
Still, it feels more like an uncle or a distant grandparent has passed away. Not my dad. I’m really just over here glad that he’s no longer in pain and wishing he hadn’t lived through all this the last five years.
I will honor him for the quiet kindnesses he showed me, like when he put $1000 in my hands to pay a tuition bill in college so I wouldn’t have to quit, or the times he put a blanket over me when I was a kid or carried me to bed and tucked me in, or the time when I was four when he somehow found the money to get surgery for my eyes. I’m also grateful he hired me (and six weeks later fired me) to roof one summer, with (I now understand) the intention of making sure I never chose the life he did because it’s such hard physical work.
Now I just hope there’s an afterlife where he gets to sit on his ass for more than five minutes and not be surrounded by a bunch of kids.
I think you’ve done a wonderful job of expressing who he was and who he was to you. Thank you for sharing and I hope you’ll always be able to enjoy some memories of him
Thank you. Did a lot of journaling about it these past few weeks. I’m hoping my descendants will get to read it and time travel back to this point in a hundred years.
That’s beautiful
Your dad sounds like a man who realized the error of his ways. Nobody is perfect and it sounds like he tried the best he knew how to correct his ways. It also sounds like you’ll miss him even after the complicated relationship. If people really have souls, I hope his is at peace. I’m sorry for your loss.
Thank you. I don’t believe in an afterlife but I hope I’m wrong and he’s out there in the ether, pain-free, work-free, getting to sit on a beautiful timeless beach or something.
Wherever he may be, he’s not in pain anymore, and from what you’ve said he has left less bad than good behind him in his wake.
Thanks for sharing your story, it resonated with me. Your dad raised a good writer.
I can’t help but contrast this thinking about my own dad. We were very close through most of my childhood, but through my teenage years and early adulthood he became someone I really didn’t want to be around and generally unstable. Honestly it was probably 08 that crushed the family’s finances and pushed him to work 2 jobs for almost 15 years. He rarely slept and I think that just messed him up.
Now he works a normal job, and is doing better. He’s great with his grandchild, but he’s still not the same man that raised me. I feel guilty often because all he wants is to spend more time with me, but I have nothing to say. Over years of dealing with his emotional outbursts, I’ve trained myself to never talk about anything of substance with him. Every conversation and interaction is kept surface level to avoid any outbursts or shouting matches. He’s not really unstable like that anymore, but it all feels too late.
Maybe this wasn’t the time or place to type this out, but it just got me to think.
It’s like an opposite situation for OP. His relationship started bad and then his dad became a better person, but the damage was done. But for me the relationship was good then became bad. It’s not a contest, but I have always wondered if it would have been better if we were never close. This post makes me think for sure
Still, it feels more like an uncle or a distant grandparent has passed away. Not my dad. I’m really just over here glad that he’s no longer in pain and wishing he hadn’t lived through all this the last five years.
Be ready to be hit by grief like with a brick wall at 100kmph.
Losing a parent is a weird one no matter what your relationship may have been.
Humans are all different people. You remember a dad who was a mean drunk. And who changed when you were 13.
You say that was too old to bond. I disagree. Any age is an acceptable age to bond with someone, if you want to. You developed defense mechanisms, maybe even subconciously, to prevent bonding with an individual whom your brain deemed a threat to hurt you emotionally. You built a blockade.
I say this, because your story is similar in some ways to my story. Yet polar opposites in others.
I grew up in a household where my mom abandoned me when she left my dad. I was 5. My dad was a daily alcoholic to the point that by age 7 I was responsible for rolling him onto his belly (so that if he vomited in his sleep, he wouldn’t choke on his vomit), check his breathing, and checking his pulse. If I couldn’t feel breathing or a pulse, call 911.
The difference I see in your dad vs mine is that my dad is still like this today. I’m 42 now. He lives alone at age 78. Everyday I wake up, look at my phone, and know that there’s always a chance that I’ll have a voicemail that my dad died in his sleep, after drinking too much the night before.
It seems like your father was a good hearted man, trapped behind demons and stress. He went broke trying to be too kind.
Yes, I fully understand the memories you may have of being 6 years old, and beaten with a belt over things that aren’t your fault. But I see your dad as having had a moment of self reflection, and regret. Those are characteristics of a good man. The ability to self reflect, and react to what he sees in the mirror.
13 wasn’t too late to bond. It was just the hurt was too deep. And I get it, but it still sucks.
When my grandmother died at age 103, I was an uncontrollable crying mess. That woman legitimately is was and always will be my hero in life.
When my dad dies? Unless there’s some legal reason I need to be there, I’m not even sure I’ll attend.
My point is, as people, we only have our own perspective to judge life on. It’s easy to think that things are normal, or easy, or hard, or any number of things because it’s all we know. But somewhere, out there in the world is someone else going through the same thing. Someone else going through something completely different.
I never had kids, because when my dad was drunk, which was daily, he’d get mad about (insert whatever happened that day), and he’d scream at me “WHAT IF YOUR KID DID THIS TO YOU??? WOULD YOU LET YOUR KID GET AWAY WITH THIS???” and at the time, I was 6. I had no other perspective to know that wasn’t a normal thing to yell at your own child over trivial things.
And the thing that kept me from ever wanting kids isn’t the idea of “what if your kids did this to you?”. It’s more of the idea of “What if I turn into my dad when I grow up?”
And so, that in a way is a defensive mechanism of my own. I watched growing up both parents not love me. It never scared me what they could do to me. It terrified me what I could do to myself or my own kid. Because I’m WAAAAAAY more violent than either of them ever were. My dad would beat me with a belt because in his mind it was being a good parent. Whereas I threw kids down the concrete stairs, and then jumped onto them from 1 story above, because I thought it was fun.
Then when I got older, those words kept ringing in my head. I could see my dads bloodshot eyes, as he screamed those words, with equal parts of him trying to convey dominance, and looking for pity.
And it made me wonder. What WOULD I do to/with/for my kids if they act up? And I don’t want to be my father. I don’t want to be so drunk I don’t remember my actions the next day. I don’t want to beat a childs ass until it’s purple. But I also don’t know what I should do instead.
And that’s when I realized the truth. I wasn’t raised in an environment supported by love. I wasn’t shown what love looked like. I don’t know what a healthy parent relationship looks like. So maybe I’m not the guy who should have kids. Maybe I shouldn’t date. All I would do is bring her down. All I would do is fuck up my own kids lives. Maybe I should just be alone.
And that’s the different road traveled. Your dad went out of his way to try to be a good dad, and failed at times, but good intentions were still there. Even if he never told you, I’m sure there were times when you were 16, doing stupid teenager shit, that he watched and thought ashamed of years past. It’s hard for men to admit they have regrets. It sounds like he regretted his past, but never was allowed back in to bond with you.
Usually this is the part where I say to reach out to your dad, and even in adulthood connect to bond. No age is too late for that. But given the title of this thread, I guess there is one age that is too late. So I guess if nothing else, if you have kids, now or later in life, you can at least learn from life. Don’t be your dad, wishing he could connect, but too proud to admit it. Invest time in what your kids like. If thats minecraft, build a base, and go mining with them. If they like baseball, take them to a game. Whatever their interests are.
And as for today, I want you to get a sheet of paper. Write a letter to your dad. Thats what I did the night my grandma died. I still write her letters for her birthday. Christmas. Thanksgiving. Easter. It seems to work out to be about once a month. Not saying you need to do it that often. But I find it comforts me, so I do it more often.
Just write one letter to him. Tell him all your frustrations. Tell him your dreams. Tell him everything you feel was a barrier between you two. Clear the air. This will allow you to forgive him, and forgive yourself. I don’t know for what. I don’t know the specifics. We all have different things we hold onto. And it sounds like both of you held onto things that kept you apart, yet still loved each other.
That’s a hell of a story. Thank you for sharing.
That’s a very complicated story you have. Thank you for sharing it with us strangers
Wow this post makes me feel like I lost him too… I empathize with him and you. That sounds like my grandpa.
Thanks for sharing this with us.
If you are from a certain era, a mean drunk for a dad isn’t that uncommon, but it is unique for everyone involved. It certainly affects child social development. My condolences for your loss.
Asides for the drunkad arc, he seems like a pretty good man actually overall.
Sorry for you loss. You did bond, even if you don’t think it was the bond you might have made. Sometimes the best we can take from our parents is to try not to make their mistakes all over again, however it sounds like he got some stuff right. It may take awhile to fully hit you. Sometimes you don’t think you’re going to react to a loss and then out of the blue a month later something miniscule sets you off. Take care of yourself.
I’m grateful you shared this and I hope you find comfort as you process your loss.
Hearing someone as thoughtful as you sharing the end of a father’s life really helped to frame the life of my own Dad who has really surprised me with his recent attempts to mend his many mistakes.
This story really motivated me to give him a visit.
Good luck. I’m glad to hear yours is making an effort.
Dads can be weird, especially those whose lives straddled the early 1900’s to now, because they were taught a very toxic version of what it means to be a man, and I’m sure he had a lot of pain from his own upbringing that he never expressed.
My dad never used the words ‘I’m sorry’, but conveyed his regret and desire to be better through his actions. (Which TBH is probably better in the long run.) Even after 2008 when he never really had much in the way of spending money, any time we were in the same room he always had a gift for me. It was usually something small he’d found when out clearing houses or a box of snacks from the food bank, but a pretty sweet gesture.
My condolences. I got a similar story. He was a smoker. But I wouldn’t share details exactly. We went thru lots of hardship together and encouraged me to go to college and get a degree. He suffered so much at the end for months. And it is all coming around now that I’m a parent. I’m am shifting my mental compass to serve my kids and forget about this thing that happens to be me. It will probably happen to you too.
I’m sorry for your loss.
You may have had a complicated relationship, but it’s quite clear that your dad tried to be a good dad and a good person, although he failed sometimes in this way or another - but don’t we all from time to time?
When you say that you’ll honor him for the quiet kindness he showed you, it makes me think that crucial parts of your relationship were working well, some things deep down.
I’m glad you appear to be at peace with your life and intend to follow his lead where it matters.Nah, what’s broken is broken. It’s more like grieving a good friend, you know you should, but it does not quite work that way.
Maybe being male also affects that quite a bit.
I’ve made different experiences, but I think that’s quite individual and differs from person to person.
My condolences…it sucks to be in this club.
My condolences.
I’m so sorry there is no pain like your dad dying. Its never a club anybody wants to join.
Was that for OP…?
Yes?
You replied under my comment. OP wouldn’t see your comment unless they read through all comments.
This post really hits.
My parents divorced when I was young and my only saw my father twice afterwards.
He died 2 years ago and I have never been sure how to feel.
I most often feel sad because I always felt I missed out on a lot of “Dad stuff” growing up. Not to mention we were dirt poor and constantly struggling to make ends meet.
My older brother tried to force me to reconnect with him, or at least talk when I was much older and had my own family. I always felt resentful then, because I didn’t think he deserved to benefit from a relationship with me since he didn’t put in the effort when it mattered. I am not sure if I was right or wrong.
My wife’s father passed away later the same year. I was definitely much closer to him and was very upset when he passed. He was also struggling with his health and her parents had zero savings as well.
This post makes me sad, thinking of people who worked hard and kept trying even when they make mistakes, but have a terrible time in old age.
2008… that really was the beginning of the end. Wealth is just used to accumulate more wealth, making things worse and worse for those who are locked outside the system.
Your father sounds human and made some bad mistakes, but also sounds like he really tried to do the right thing and while he may have waited to long to fix his relationship with you, he didn’t wait too long to at least salvage something.
I am sorry for your loss, not just your father’s death but the relationship you lost with them when you were so young.
Thank you for the kind words.
I don’t know if I should say I’m sorry for your loss, because like you said, it was complicated and you’re glad he’s no longer suffering and struggling just to stay alive. I know exactly how you feel except it’s my mom, and instead of realizing her mistakes with age, she just got worse.
Life can really be the meanest bastard sometimes, and it sounds like it dealt you both a shitty hand you didn’t deserve. I’m sorry it didn’t give you the father you deserved until he’d already left a permanent mark on you, and I’m sorry that life turned him into the man that couldn’t be the father you deserved until it was too late to really repair your bond.
At the same time, it sounds like he really did make an effort to try to make sure you would have a life that was spent living more than just struggling and really that is one of the most primal instincts a parent can have. It doesn’t make up for the damage done, but it can be comforting to know he loved you enough to want something better for you.
When you have a broken bond with a person who was supposed to be one of your first memories of love and comfort, it’s pretty normal not to feel like you’re grieving the loss of a parent when they die. That doesn’t mean it’s not painful, but you grieve the relationship you never got to have, and you had probably already been grieving it for most of your life.
I will also say it speaks to his character and yours that he really made an effort with your younger siblings and you admired him for that. You’re probably right that his life would have been less of a financial struggle if he hadn’t adopted so many children later in life, but it also sounds like he felt you and your siblings where what made the struggle of life worth living and staying sober.
