My father died several years ago, but I did not bother telling very many people. Because they would always say “I’m so sorry.” And my response would be, “Don’t be. We weren’t very close.”
Which is the very polite, watered-down answer.
My father was a very selfish and angry man who never stopped taking out his wrath on his family. He was a non-stop torrent of verbal and emotional abuse, as well as prone to physical violence. He was so reckless and abusive I cut off all ties from him when I was an adult, and had virtually nothing to do with him for the last twenty years of his life.
I’m not sorry I did so either. I do not miss him, I do not honor him. Could he have made amends with me? Sure, but it would have meant admitting that he was wrong for the way he acted, that he made a mistake in being so abusive. And that was something he would never do. Never once did he ever admit that he erred, or acted inappropriately. He would never admit he was wrong in any matters large or small, no matter what the circumstances were.
And I am far from alone. I know too many people who have nothing but disdain for their fathers, and for good reasons. Some people have related tales of their father’s abuse that make my story pale in comparison. One friend of mine told me her father had passed. “I’m so sorry,” I said. She glared at me and replied, “If the son of a bitch wasn’t dead, I’d kill him.” (And I’ll admit, I’ve been tempted to borrow that line.)
For myself and other people such as my friend who harbors homicidal thoughts when thinking about her late father, this day is very bittersweet, especially with social media. Seeing all of the pictures of people proudly standing with their fathers and missing those fathers who have passed on with loving words and remembrances: Those pictures and words can sting. It reminds of us of something that so many others have which we were denied: A dad who could be honored and loved, and missed when absent.
Myself and so many children of abusive fathers have heartfelt feelings, but feelings of bitterness, of deeply felt shame, and as I have mentioned, the kind of raw rage that is all too common amongst survivors of childhood abuse.
Some people know why their fathers were so warped. Some were combat veterans, or alcoholics, or they were children of abusive parents. In my case, I have no clear idea what made my father the way he was. I only knew what he was like. Maybe if I had a better idea of what set him off on his path of behavior I could better come to grips with this dark past.
So if you have a father you can celebrate, thank your fates and your stars, for there are far too many people like me, who have no father or father figure they can celebrate.
