"Dear Daddy"...what would you say to your Dad today?
(Click on "BareFootMusicNews" to the left of the thread title to read Spontn80's own response and to hear a song he wrote for his dad.)
Reading some of these stories about dads abandoning their families makes me feel terrible for those who endured it. This includes my dad, whose father left him and his brother at a young age to be raised eventually by aunts as their mom died young also. Apparently his father did try to connect with him and his brother throughout their childhood but the aunts did not allow it – yet more sadness in these poor kids’ lives.
My dad was a man’s man. I’m sure abandoning his family was the furthest thought from his mind. He was a hard working man at work and at home, holding four jobs at a time for many years while keeping his wife and daughters housed, clothed and fed comfortably. With all this he still found time to contribute to the church and community, running basketball tournaments, skating shows, dances and other fundraisers. We were not rich by any means, but we had everything we needed and some of what we wanted, which was more than many people can say. He was not lazy and did not suffer fools. The houses we lived in were well maintained by his hands – he was always painting, tuckpointing, planting, trimming, mowing or fixing something, often with Mom at his side. He rose early every morning, prayed his Rosary, wrote in his daily calendar and planned his day. He allowed himself to relax, drink (plenty) and watch TV in the evenings only after everyone and everything else was taken care of.
What would I say to Dad today?
I miss you, Dad, and I wish I didn’t lose you so young. I wish I didn’t fuck up in college when I was younger, and I wish you got to see me graduate nursing school. Thankfully Mom did before she died not long after you. There are so many things I have wished I could talk to you about over the years, and even now. I wish I could talk to you about your childhood and young adulthood (although you probably wouldn’t answer – you didn’t usually like to get too deep about stuff like that). You certainly didn’t have it easy growing up, but you overcame much of that and raised your children without passing that pain you must have had on to us. I admire you and thank you for that.
When younger, I resented your chauvinism, specifically your forbidding us to go to college for anything other than teaching or nursing. (“You can become anything you want, after you do this.”) I wanted to pursue either journalism or veterinary science, but that was out of the question for you. Also, when to everyone’s surprise I made the state choir in high school and was offered the opportunity to audition for vocal scholarships, your and Mom’s response was, “Don’t bother with that. All you’ll ever get to be is a music teacher.” Says who, and would that have been so bad? I kind of resented that too. Still do a little bit :-P (that’s an emoticon, Dad – it means I’m sticking my tongue out at you)
Your thinking at the time was women can always get jobs if they are teachers or nurses, so we’d be able to work and take care of our children if our husband walked out on us. This belief definitely was a product of your upbringing. Times were changing all around you as you were raising your daughters and I don’t blame you for keeping that mindset – you just wanted your daughters and their children to be safe and well if tough times came along in life. And you know what? They have been, Dad.
I’m sorry you never had a son. I’m sure you wanted one.
Thank you, Dad, for showing us all around our beautiful country in the station wagon and camper, and for taking some of us to Ireland and teaching us about where our ancestors came from. The memory of Mom closing her eyes and leaning in toward you in terror as you would drive us over bridges or on mountainsides, as if this would save her if we went over, gives me giggles to this day...
One of the biggest regrets of my life is that I did not come to you and Mom about what was happening to me. At the time I was incapable of understanding what was going on or why, and you all had so many problems of your own also, with you getting cancer twice, and then Mom, and I didn’t want to pile onto you further. It was scary when you were sick. Part of it, too, was due to the fact that you both were older, and in my kid mind I think I was afraid of killing you if I told you this. It was a secret, and I knew it and kept it until it nearly killed me. In hindsight though, I wish I could have a do-over. Although it would have been exquisitely painful and difficult for you and everyone else concerned, I think you and Mom would have handled it better than some others did when the secret came out after your deaths, and maybe our surviving family would not be permanently fractured by it as they are now.
Dad, I have to say if you had to go (which we all do), I’m glad you went the way you did. You were in such a good mood that afternoon! You were singing and you may have even played the piano that day. You didn’t do that often, but you sure were good at it. I had bought a harmonica at Ford City that day, learned a song on it in the car on the way home and played it for you, which you got a kick out of. Mom and I went out that evening, and when we came home you were propped up in bed with the TV on, legs crossed, drink on the nightstand, apparently dozing. Nothing out of the ordinary. Mom talked to you about whatnot as she hung up her coat, and then began to scream for me because she realized although you were there, you were gone.
The aftermath of this was very tough on Mom and the rest of us, but thank God you fell asleep in your bed and died comfortably without suffering.
Finally, Dad, I have to thank you for not just showing me love in your Merlinesque ways, but also for letting us grow up as children of a long-lasting marriage between a couple truly in love. You and Mom were made for each other, and it showed in every moment of your relationship, from you lovingly rubbing her feet to her making sure her lipstick and eyeshadow were on just right when she knew you were on your way to the hospital to see her, to the way you two handled the best and worst life threw at you as a team. I cannot recall ever seeing or hearing one of you behaving disrespectfully toward the other. Truly extraordinary and appreciated.
I love you, Dad. Thanks for everything.
Funny Dad story – when I was in nursing school, I worked weekends as an aide in a nursing home (for $3.10/hr, the hardest work I’ve ever done for the least amount of money I’ve ever made, but that’s a story for another time). Once I was giving a bedbath to an elderly man who had had several strokes leaving him completely immobile and unable to speak. As I bathed him, he became erect, which made me extraordinarily uncomfortable (I was about 20 at the time), and I didn’t know how to handle this.
Later on I was sitting at the kitchen table with Dad watching TV and for some reason I told him about this – I have no idea why as we normally never discussed anything remotely of a sexual nature. Dad’s response:
“If he can still do that, he doesn’t need you washing him.”
End of conversation.
