it's fathers day, did you know
below is just me talking about father's day / mother's day and reflecting on that
I may not have a mom, but I am lucky enough to have a dad. Not everyone can say that they have parents who give a shit. Not everyone can say that they have a dad that gives a shit. Not everyone can look back and appreciate their lives.
I never struggled growing up, not really. It's funny because I was born into a home with a handicapped child. My sister was 3 years older than me and was born with a form of anencephaly (I can't remember that exact name of it, but I'm lucky enough to have a dad who cares enough to know); she had 2/3 of her brain sticking out of her head, and the doctors told my parents not to bother seeing her because she wouldn't make it through the night. My dad ignored the warnings and saw her anyway.
The thing about it is that my oldest sister spent half of my life trying to convince me that my dad never wanted children. In fact, there are a lot of people who told me that. But, here's the thing, I have a dad who cried at my graduation. One who didn't leave my mom when he had a handicapped child (which, research shows that a lot of people split up). And one who took care of my mom when she became handicapped herself.
I am lucky because the dad that I have is a stand up guy. He has values that is hard for a child to understand because he wanted me to have a job and he wanted me to work for the things that I have even though he can afford to get it for me. As a kid, I hated that shit.
But, I am lucky to have the dad that I have because without him I would have been extremely bitter at the world. Not the kind of depressed, needy shit I get now (stemming from when I was less than 5 and didn't get to be the center of attention, which I understood at the time), but the kind that sits in my room and is a rude fuck and probably would have killed themselves. I don't mean to offend, just stating that I probably would have been that person if it weren't for him.
Since I was 13, all I've had was a dad. There was a lot of things he was trying to figure out. He didn't complain when I asked him to buy my feminine products, even sending him into the store WITHOUT me even though it annoyed him. He just did it. He came to every basketball game he could. Even when my mom was alive he took me to my Saturday basketball games even though he wanted me to play softball more than he wanted me to play basketball.
I know my dad is a sensitive guy. I spent a lot of time debating whether I should ask him questions I had always been curious about but thought would hurt his feelings. (PS, yesterday I finally asked him and he was more than happy to talk about it.)
My sister dwells on things from her childhood and things that my dad did like telling her that she wasn't going to move back and forth from our house to her mom's. Her mom called him one day and said that he had to talk her because she couldn't deal with her. Halfway through the semester her changed her mind and said she could move back - he made her stay and finish out the semester but told her if she moved back to her mom's than she couldn't move back in with us. It wasn't that he hated her, it's that he didn't want her to have an unstable life.
No worries, she proceeded to have one anyway but my dad has never been an enabler, I can say that.
My dad isn't perfect. There are times he was selfish and I was bitter because it wasn't all about me. I was a kid and now that I am doing things for myself I get it. My dad isn't perfect but he makes it so fucking difficult for me to ever be in a relationship because he's set some high standards.
My dad used to go to basketball games and softball games and award shows (for me and my sister both). He would go to Little Laps at the Little Light House (which is a fantastic organization for kids with disabilities and it is so perfect, started by a flawless woman named Marcia Mitchell) and push my sister around because his kids were/are important to him. Even though I am the only one he has a relationship with now, because my sister is vile and rude and causes more problems than she resolves (plus, she tried to convince me that he molested me when my did gets mortified about things like that and it hurts his feelings so badly that she did that almost 10 years later).
He's a good dad.
I'm lucky enough to have a dad who remembers every detail (except maybe the time) of the day I was born. He will tell strangers about how it was a Sunday and they went to the hospital just after midnight and in the early morning (4:13am, according to my birth certificate) I was born. He will boast about how he was the first person to hold me (and to hold my sister's hand, since she was in an incubator). He remembers things like that.
I am lucky and I know that. Even though sometimes I hated him and sometimes we fought and sometimes we butt heads because we are too much alike. Even though we went through some horrible things together and prevailed so we think we can treat each other like shit because we know the other isn't going anywhere (a legit conversation we've had and agreed on).
I may not have my mom, but I am lucky enough to have the dad I have - MY dad.
(I know I have a stepmom and she is a good one, but she still doesn't remember all of those childhood moments that my dad does, and not a lot of people who have only dads have dads who rememeber those things; I am lucky and I know it.)
I may not have a mom, but I am lucky enough to have a dad. Not everyone can say that they have parents who give a shit. Not everyone can say that they have a dad that gives a shit. Not everyone can look back and appreciate their lives.
I never struggled growing up, not really. It's funny because I was born into a home with a handicapped child. My sister was 3 years older than me and was born with a form of anencephaly (I can't remember that exact name of it, but I'm lucky enough to have a dad who cares enough to know); she had 2/3 of her brain sticking out of her head, and the doctors told my parents not to bother seeing her because she wouldn't make it through the night. My dad ignored the warnings and saw her anyway.
The thing about it is that my oldest sister spent half of my life trying to convince me that my dad never wanted children. In fact, there are a lot of people who told me that. But, here's the thing, I have a dad who cried at my graduation. One who didn't leave my mom when he had a handicapped child (which, research shows that a lot of people split up). And one who took care of my mom when she became handicapped herself.
I am lucky because the dad that I have is a stand up guy. He has values that is hard for a child to understand because he wanted me to have a job and he wanted me to work for the things that I have even though he can afford to get it for me. As a kid, I hated that shit.
But, I am lucky to have the dad that I have because without him I would have been extremely bitter at the world. Not the kind of depressed, needy shit I get now (stemming from when I was less than 5 and didn't get to be the center of attention, which I understood at the time), but the kind that sits in my room and is a rude fuck and probably would have killed themselves. I don't mean to offend, just stating that I probably would have been that person if it weren't for him.
Since I was 13, all I've had was a dad. There was a lot of things he was trying to figure out. He didn't complain when I asked him to buy my feminine products, even sending him into the store WITHOUT me even though it annoyed him. He just did it. He came to every basketball game he could. Even when my mom was alive he took me to my Saturday basketball games even though he wanted me to play softball more than he wanted me to play basketball.
I know my dad is a sensitive guy. I spent a lot of time debating whether I should ask him questions I had always been curious about but thought would hurt his feelings. (PS, yesterday I finally asked him and he was more than happy to talk about it.)
My sister dwells on things from her childhood and things that my dad did like telling her that she wasn't going to move back and forth from our house to her mom's. Her mom called him one day and said that he had to talk her because she couldn't deal with her. Halfway through the semester her changed her mind and said she could move back - he made her stay and finish out the semester but told her if she moved back to her mom's than she couldn't move back in with us. It wasn't that he hated her, it's that he didn't want her to have an unstable life.
No worries, she proceeded to have one anyway but my dad has never been an enabler, I can say that.
My dad isn't perfect. There are times he was selfish and I was bitter because it wasn't all about me. I was a kid and now that I am doing things for myself I get it. My dad isn't perfect but he makes it so fucking difficult for me to ever be in a relationship because he's set some high standards.
My dad used to go to basketball games and softball games and award shows (for me and my sister both). He would go to Little Laps at the Little Light House (which is a fantastic organization for kids with disabilities and it is so perfect, started by a flawless woman named Marcia Mitchell) and push my sister around because his kids were/are important to him. Even though I am the only one he has a relationship with now, because my sister is vile and rude and causes more problems than she resolves (plus, she tried to convince me that he molested me when my did gets mortified about things like that and it hurts his feelings so badly that she did that almost 10 years later).
He's a good dad.
I'm lucky enough to have a dad who remembers every detail (except maybe the time) of the day I was born. He will tell strangers about how it was a Sunday and they went to the hospital just after midnight and in the early morning (4:13am, according to my birth certificate) I was born. He will boast about how he was the first person to hold me (and to hold my sister's hand, since she was in an incubator). He remembers things like that.
I am lucky and I know that. Even though sometimes I hated him and sometimes we fought and sometimes we butt heads because we are too much alike. Even though we went through some horrible things together and prevailed so we think we can treat each other like shit because we know the other isn't going anywhere (a legit conversation we've had and agreed on).
I may not have my mom, but I am lucky enough to have the dad I have - MY dad.
(I know I have a stepmom and she is a good one, but she still doesn't remember all of those childhood moments that my dad does, and not a lot of people who have only dads have dads who rememeber those things; I am lucky and I know it.)