Father’s Day 2013

    Long time, no blog.

    I’d like to reiterate my thanks to the people who gave me advice about how to handle Fortinbras.  I feel in control of the situation and I have a plan now.  I intend to write about that in greater detail soon.

    Today is Father’s Day, which is always a difficult holiday for me. I do not speak to my father, but I presume he is alive because the government has not notified me of his death.  I am his next of kin, so I expect that they would contact me if he died.  I have an elder half-sister in Germany whom I have never met.  I almost never think of her, but I do wonder, from time to time, whether we look alike, and what path she has taken in her life. My father says that he went back to see her when she was a few years old (this was before I was born), and she was cold and hostile to him.  Good for you, Gretel. Would that I had that luxury and willfulness when I was so young. 

    I envy her because she was spared our father’s control.  That is not to say that I assume she had a healthful upbringing–even the best parents fail somehow, and something had to be wrong with Gretel’s mother if she seriously entertained Franz Adler as a partner and voluntarily bore his child.  

     (I do hope that you are healthy and happy in some beautiful German town, Gretel, and I hope that your mother found a kind and responsible man who became a loving and proper father to you.)

     I looked through photographs of my family today.  I found one of my father as a young boy–maybe 11, 12, 13 years old…?  I don’t know children, so I can’t tell.  He is wearing starched dark farmers’ bluejeans with a crease in them, and a neat button-up check shirt with a stiff collar.  He is carrying a metal lunch pail to bring to school.  He is standing in front of a tiny house with a wrap-around porch, and he is smiling. The blue eyes look colorless in the black-and-white. He looks so happy.  A normal boy. 

      I wish I had a time machine and could go back in time to kill my grandfather for what he did.  I really would do it, you know.  It would be my pleasure. 

      To end this rather depressing post on a happier note, here is a plush toy I purchased from the store.  It is a daddy owl hugging a baby owl!  I love it.  I put it on my bed.



4 thoughts on “Father’s Day 2013”

  1. Bad dads suck. But holding onto the anger is like taking the poison yourself hoping the other person dies. I used to struggle with it everyday, now less and less. Hard to let go huh? Letting go is not excusing. but each bit brings just a little more peace. I feel some of that peace when I look at the owl you bought and am glad I am trying to be that way with my kids rather than be like the emotional handicap person that was the biological sperm donor to my genes (not father just sperm donor).

  2. Hi Rick. Yeah, the story is pretty damn sad; you don’t know the half of it. My Dad got an “F-” (well, maybe a “D,” at least he didn’t molest me) in parenting, but HIS Dad was so terrifying that he was almost like an abstraction.

    Hi Roy. I appreciate it when you comment or send me email; you always offer insight or kindness. It is hard to let go. I seldom feel angry with my father anymore, but I do feel oddly protective of the child he was before his dad beat the humanity out of him and the chemicals in his brain came out wrong. It’s very weird, like caring about a ghost. It feels like if I can’t love him now, maybe I can love him for the boy he was, when he needed love most and didn’t get any. Or maybe I’m just using that as a proxy for the child I was. Who knows.

    Congrats on being self-aware and trying to be a good father. I don’t think that I’ll ever have children, but if I do, I know that I will always treat them with the respect they deserve and not like pieces of property or resources to be exploited.

    Thanks for reading.

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