Mine was non-existent. Had children all over that he never took care of. At 55 i met 12 brothers and sisters. The stories they told me were unbelievable. Never paid the rent, were evicted, they had to beg for food around the neighborhood, the lights were shut off, water too, he spent all his money on women. I actually thought they were kidding me. Until my older brother said, no, i do not like to talk about it but the stories are true. But they still loved him!! Then he died and for them he became a saint. He died saying he was hungry. It that ironic or what? He never fed his kids, and he died hungry. Karma? I cannot believe that such a person was my father. Thank God my mother was an extraordinary human being. May he rest in peace, if he can.
How was yours?
ReginaLove, that is SO great to hear! As for soy, it may help with menopause symptoms -- it it controversial. The best way to use soy is in the form of whole fermented soy foods (miso, tempeh, tamari and natto). Non-fermented soy foods such as soy mi
Agreed. I never thought I was vain until I had a mastectomy at age 39. I was devastated and told the doc I wanted to wake up with implants. Now at age 60, I am lopsided and wondering if I was just avoiding the inevitable. You get what you get and you
Sounds very interesting.
Spike, you are awesome! Love your perspective, thanks for sharing.
My sisters and I are blessed with a wonderful father and had my beloved mother lived they would be celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary this year. I’m sorry that was not your experience, Lynnette.
Be happy.
i am so happy that your dad was a good man. I always watch the men and their kids when i go on a cruise and i see the little girls with their dads. One little girl was so cute, she was so little, her father a huge man, tall i mean… she was crying for some reason and he just picked her up and kept on wiping her tears. I wanted to take a picture but i did not know them.
I was a Daddy’s Girl. Thankfully, the only daughter. My brothers, who were twins, were loved unconditionally but I was “SPECIAL”. Growing up we were comfortable. We didn’t have any extras but we didn’t go hungry or do without the bare necessities.
In later years, after moving our family to the U.S. from Canada and becoming citizens, Daddy was able to get a decent job and become successful in his industry. Eventually he owned his own company. He was extremely generous to his children and grandchildren and even my mother who divorced him after 32 years of marriage. They became best friends 2 years after the divorce which was such a blessing.
Daddy died from a massive stroke at the age of 69. It was a shock to all of us since he was playing golf several days a week and looked like the picture of health. It’s been over 14 years since that horrible day. I remember it like it was yesterday. His dying and my brother’s dying from an epileptic seizure only 7 weeks later were the catalysts to my becoming a Certified Grief Specialist. It is a passion of mine to help others in grief.
Because of the people I work with, I have come to realize just how lucky I was to have a father who cherished me. When he died, there was no one left on this planet who thought I was perfect no matter what I did. No one. The rest of my wonderful family has me figured out! I am still loved unconditionally in spite of my flaws but there is a difference.
I wish that every child would grow up feeling like I felt without having it affect their attitude or sense of entitlement. Those with great fathers learned what to look for in a husband (not all of us succeeded) so that our own children would feel cherished. Those with ‘not so great’ fathers learned what NOT to look for in husband material.
For those of you who were not cherished by their fathers, I send my most sincere sympathy. You deserved better.
Hugs to all!
good for you, that in itself is priceless. Remembering a dad today in a nice way is heaven.
Mine was non-existent but he lived in the house with my mother and we 3 kids….
Mine was non-existent as well. Trust your mother gave u all the love he did not.
Nope, my father was different. Non-conformist, alcoholic maybe all his life, mean spirited, selfish, lier, cheater and a thief. He never laid a hand on me though. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words, they last forever!”
My husband is the best father he can be to his four children who love him very much.
Happy father’s day dear, (if you secretly read this).
His first all by himself in 35yrs ;^(
Yeap, words can be worse than a slap on the face. But you have a great husband, that is something special now a days. Trust you can be together soon. Florida is very hot so brace yourself. It feels like 205 today.
It was 96 today but you’re right, it felt much hotter. We are going to be together over the 4th of July weekend in Colorado. My sons and I will drive there and he comes in on a late flight Fri. Just hope the Grandaughters let us have a little time to ourselves. Can’t wait to see them all. Then we’ll part ways for another month ;^(
My dad was a drunk, liar, mean-spirited when drunk, abuser physially and verbally and served his country when the hate was thick, A Navy Man. First time I have said it out-loud molested me more than one time. He had his good points too, fix things, could cook, and take us on picnics with row-boating. I dislike my mother more, for I told her what he did, she rushed me out of the house like I did something wrong, He molested me two more times that I can remember, because she could not look bad in any-ones eyes and concerned about what people would say. She was not more concern for me. I ask her when I became an adult why she stayed with him, answer “the rest would not be any better!”
My father adored my daughter, but I let him know, NEVER, EVER put your hands on her or die!…TRACK
P.S. Now you know why I can not stand a sorry mother who does not protect her children..she picked him
Track–my heart just broke for you as a little girl. No little girl should have to endure that. Not from their father and not from their mother. You’ve turned into a fine, strong, and brave woman…..one that has my utmost respect.
Very brave of you to share this. Hugs.
Wow! It’s absolutely amazing what you and so many other children have survived. Track, you turned out to be a beautifully strong woman who gives solid advice and comfort to so many women here on VN. You’re quite a role model!
:{ that is so sad. Reminds me of the movie Precious. I am glad you were able to write about it. It is part of the healing process after all these years. I close my eyes and imagine the terror in your soul, not once but 3 times. I am sure you were very scared. My mother had a boyfriend that had some sort of an interest in me, i do not know what, i had no boobs. I never lived w/them but visited often. It was a beautiful house with a balcony all around it. I must of been in that house for a summer because i remember being there longer than a few days, i lived mostly with my granmama’. So it has to be during a school break. My mother was a beautiful woman and this man adored her. She did not learn how to drive until she was 50ish. I think i have said this before, he had a lot of money and would tell all the taxi drivers in the small town, not to take my mother anywhere. When they fought she would put all her belongings in a wicker hamper and ask his son to drive her to grandmama’s two towns away. Adam was his son’s name and he was the only one that did not care what his father said, he would take my mother anywhere she wanted to go. Well, one day i told my neighbor that this man, my mom’s boyfriend, was looking at me funny and touched my breasts. But i did not have any, i only had breasts when i was in sixteen or so. That neighbor told my mother and that was the end of a relationship of more than 20 years. I remember my mother waiting for him with a big rock in front of our house in PR. A huge rock and some small ones as well. As soon as he parked she took the big rock and threw it thru the windshield. A brand new car! Then she proceeded to stick her red nails on his face. It was a mess, i went under the bed. I still remember and i think i was 10. I did not know why my mom was so angry… the fight continued all thru the house. She never forgave him and he begged and begged. She told him i will kill u if you touch my daughter again. So she never went back. He would ride around our grandma’s house and she would close the door on his face.
As it should be!! To your MOM, thank you…TRACK
Oh TRACK…I can’t find the words to express what I feel, I’m sitting here shaking my head in sorrow. You survived the horror and now you not only soar but you lift up those of us here who have grown to rely upon your wisdom and warmth.
You are special and much is in store for you Track….You have had to go up against great odds of turning out to be the woman you are and I hope you will find just how you can use your experience to help others as we have discussed child abuse, I believe the biggest key is to teach women to love themselves enough that they don’t have to live with men who are abusers, and also to know that our children are far more precious than or images…it really is our ego that allows us to hide abuse, Thanks for sharing and continue to shine.
I second that remark.
My father was a good, decent every day kind of man. Born in the depression, he never knew anything but work (with the exception of 1-2 years noted below). He joined the Navy as a young man right out of high school, and while in the navy he had an accident in which he fell the eqiuvalent of several stories. He broke many many bones (including both legs, feet, nose etc) and spent the better part of the next year recovering in a naval hospital. Got addicted to pain meds, and then had to go through a painful withdrawal. They told him he’d never walk again and wanted to amputate his legs but he wouldnt let them; yes, he did indeed walk again albeit with a very strong limp and with special made shoes. He took the money he got from the naval medical discharge, bought himself an airplane and learned to fly and then went to college. By his own admission, he was quite the party animal at this time. Apparently this got in the way of his graduating and he never did. However, he became interested in technology when it was just being conceived of which led to him becoming one of the first generation of computer technicians.
Eventually he met my mother when he was 29; my mother had a 5 year old son. They married and he adopted my brother as his own. I came along the next year. He treated us both as his own completely and thoroughly. My brother’s biological father was out of the picture, and there is no question to my brother but that he and I have the same dad. Later in life some relatives tried to connect my brother and his biological father, but my brother was aggravated by that. He knew who his father really was–it was the man who raised him since he was 5.
The man I grew up with was a family man. Quiet, he went to work every day and came home at 515 like clockwork. Due to his physical limitations, he wasnt an active engage in sports kind of man, but he did enjoy watching sports on TV. The most important thing seemed to be to save $$$ so my brother and I could go to college and graduate. Of course we both did. He enjoyed a cold beer or two most nights and maybe 1 more on weekends, but never to exccess. Enjoyed an occasional poker game with buddies, maybe 3 -4 times a year; he taught me to play (not that I ever become good). Would go fishing every now and then. And when may parents enrolled us in a small, start up private school that was completely dependent on parental invovlement to keep it going–he was there and a part of it in spades. Concession stands, painting, building, etc. Because he wanted the best education he could provide for us, and because that was a necessary part of keeping it going.
He also endured my mother’s craziness in a long suffering kind of way for years before he finally called it quits and divoced her (both my brother and I were adults and out of the house by then). In some ways I wish he’d stood up to her sooner but thats another post. Perhaps things would have turned out differently…………….but he was broken in spirit by the slow death of their marriage and the empty nest.
He developed pancreatic cancer shortly after they divorced and died too soon…..age 54.
Hi Dallas Lady – you’ve told me before you thought I might be a long lost sister due to some similarities in our life experiences. My dad was also a navy guy – another parallel with your life and upbringing. He also had a crazy wife and I am convinced the stress of living with her for 41 years gave him the cancer that killed him within 3 weeks of diagnosis, at age 63.
I didn’t have much of a relationship with him (we just didn’t know each other, and my mother actively stood in the way of being able to form a bond – she was jealous of me and accused me of being his “favourite” – of him preferring me over her and my older sister).
My dad wasn’t very communicative but one of the last things he said to me, on his deathbed, was “Don’t worry that you ever disappointed me – you never did.” I really appreciated hearing that.
His final message to my sister (they had always argued a lot) was “You should have been a lawyer” and to my mother “Thanks for all the great sex.” No lie. No exaggeration. I’m not kidding. Wish I was.
How weird. I think we did live in a parallel universe~! Or maybe its just the reality of what happened behind closed doors in middle class white America in the 1950 and 1960s??
Funny I did’t feel all that emotionally connected to my dad growing up either, I’m not sure he knew what to do so much with a daughter. We didn’t really talk. It wasnt until I was an adult that I really understood how much he did love me, and how much what he did everyday was about that. It just wasnt in a love/hugs/words kind of way……I guess writing the above was a bit cathartic of what i get now that I didn’t ‘get” then…
I did laugh at your father’s death bed comments, and not in a “how amusing” kind of way–but rather in a “what are you gonna do?” kind of way. Hey that’s a worthy ending for a book you’ll write one day no doubt. Apparently great sex got my parents together and held them for quite a few years…until she got mad at him over something that she emotionally dramatized into a grand betrayal (it wasnt) , and then withheld it from him and started giving it to others instead.
Now on his deathbed he was pretty zoned from the pain meds so there wasnt much talk….but he did tell us he loved us, and didn’t make any deathbed statements like that…Always stoic and silent to the end I guess.
Hi Dallas Lady,
Your comments about how your dad showed you he loved you reminded me of something else that happened when my dad was terminally ill and bedridden.
My jerk of an ex-husband showed up at my parents’ house to do the right thing and pay his last respects to his former father-in-law (mutual friends had told my ex that my dad was dying and, as he had been a member of our family at one time, it was probably appropriate he show some caring and support).
I opened the front door and there stood Hubby #1 with this hang-dog expression on his face, but I was gracious and led him into the kitchen to speak to my mother and sister while I went upstairs to see if Dad was up for a visitor.
I told him R. was here to see him and my father rolled his eyes and said “Now why on earth would I want to see that a**hole?!” That was actually a big show of love and support for ME out of my father – he had not forgiven R. for cheating on his daughter.
I went downstairs and told R. my father was sleeping after his recent morphine injection and a visit wasn’t possible. Kinda wish now I had told R. the truth, I don’t know why I spared that idiot’s feelings.
We are trained to do it, it’s called culture and upbringing…TRACK
That is sad that such a great person suffered so much! That is why i believe that divorce was invented for a reason. It is up to us not to waste our lives in a situation that has no end in site. Bad for the kids as well.
thanks Lynette. Funny you said that. After he died, I was depressed thinking about how sad his life had been generally. Not a horrible life (some people had it worse, no doubt) but not one of joy either. But then I had a very powerful dream. In my dream it was as if I was observing him as a young man in college when he had his beloved plane and was learning to fly…..and how much joy this brought him. I woke up thinking “he did have moments of joy and he had a life of interest that you werent a part of”. It was actually very comforting.
He sold the plane to buy my mothers engagement ring tho. Likely the worst investment he ever made.
My Dad is and always has been a very kind man. He’ll be 77 this summer, and has lived with PLS (like ALS) for 27 years. He can barely move his legs and arms, his speech is being affected, everyday is a struggle. He is always in happy positive mood. He needs a lot of care, which my mom does faithfully, but he has made it easier by being the kind of person he is. He has just published a book, and volunteers, with the transit system, showing people in wheelchairs how to use the trains and buses. He has taught me a lot.
what a great dad. I missed having a great dad. Well, i had a great mom, and granmama’ so i cannot complain.
My dad was a very good man. He was a typical Italian father who adored his children. He also adored my mom, who was also hard working but who was usually mean to him. My father worked three jobs so that his five kids could go to parochial schools. My parents had role reversals: mom was the boss and my dad was the one you went to for love and affection. I grew up with my father’s extended family and we had lots of kissing and hugging from everyone. I didn’t realize how lucky I was until much later. We were working poor but we didn’t know that we were missing anything. Our lives weren’t perfect, but we had love and encouragement – I wish all children could know how that feels.
Yeah, there are a lot of kids out there with nothing. Sometimes i feel that i am selfish by not adopting a child in need. But i remember my son’s teenage years and will never go thru that again. So i adopt dogs instead. Help out whoever i can as long as i am not being taken advantage of. To avoid the latter i give anonymously (sp)
My father was a good man. Thank you for the opportunity to write about him on this special day.
Dad passed away 20 years ago next month at age 57 of heart disease. He had a stroke at age 46.
My father influenced me in many ways…he loved nature, was a forester, a photographer, a writer and used these mediums to communicate his passion for conservation. He was a teacher, showed kindness, was a deep thinker, somewhat philosophical about life, and he adored my mother.
My father was also one to get a kick out of creatures, great and small, and find subtle humor in everything. He allowed me to tag-a-long during his work and visits with local farmers and communtiy members who were also conservation minded. He was ahead of his time…kind of a gentle environmentalist, but realistic, not preachy. He just lived what he believed.
Of course, my father had his “other side”, too. I am not sure if this is something that developed over time, but he was a workaholic, rarely showing up until long after dinner and our bedtime. It seemed he was uncomfortable raising teens and left my mother to be on the front line. I later figured out some of those nights were spent drinking. He was a bit threatening in a way that strict fathers can be. While, I do not recall him hitting us with “the belt”, he used to slap it against the bed rails to get out attention. He made my friends nervous because he had a way of looking up at you over the top of his glasses, seemingly sizing you up, yet establishing who the alpha is.
As I grew older, I developed an alcohol problem, too, though I quit by the Grace of God when I was 19. My dad’s stroke was instrumental in his abstinence from alcohol. So, we both were facing life sober about the same time. We were exploring our spirituality and reconnected after a tumultuous few years.
I truly miss my dad. He influenced who I am more than anyone else has. I knew in my heart he appreciated me and that I always had a home to go to when the chips were down.
He died when my oldest was 7 months old. He took some great photos of Zack.
To dad…always in my heart…I love you big as the sky!!
~BHB
great story, happy that you stopped drinking. One question, and i do not mean to be disrespectful, do people drink for a reason or just because they like the taste of booze? For instance, i love to eat. I went to over-eaters anonymous and heard awful stories, but my problem was not abuse or “secrets”, i really, really love to eat. With menopause i had to curve my anxiety because weight is an added factor to the misery of menopause. My husband for instance, drinks because it was customary when he arrived home from work for his parents to be drinking beer and smoking cigs. so it was part of his dailly-end of the day ritual. He LOVES beer, too much.
It is hard to explain, but I’ll try. It is like I had an “X” factor from birth that was sensitive to alcohol. From the 1st time I drank (age 14), I looked for more & more opportunities to drink, became increasingly uncomfortable when alcohol was not around, and could not predict how much I would drink once I got started. It was just out of control. My paternal grandmother had alcoholism in the family history. My uncle died of alcoholism, and I am pretty sure my father was one, too.
I drank because I thought I had more fun, was not as shy, could dance uninhibited, could let go of my concerns/problems, feel like I fit in…but, mostly, I drank because I got a much greater high from the alcohol than probably a normal, social drinker would. It was a mental obsession with a physical compulsion. Once I started, I could not quit until we ran out, the bars closed, or I passed out.
I also have a sensitivity to sugar…once I get started, I can’t quit, but I have been working hard on this, and am less likely to binge. It just doesn’t serve me anymore. I like to eat, too, but have been reading Geneen Roth’s book Food, Women & God, and I am doing what I can to make piece with food.
I have been in AA for many years (32 as of June 11th) and every alcoholic has a little different story. Some can pull it off for years because they are functional and stay half-way lit without incident. For me, I was wreckless and suffered many consequences in a few short years. The common thread is that somehow we all lost control of our drinking and it was causing problems with family/friends/employers/financial/health, etc.
When I see “functional” alcoholics, it concerns me because there is such denial and it is difficult to confront.
I hope this helps.
i have a person in my family that drank like you mention and we do have alcoholism in our family as well. He has been going to AA for the last year. The weird thing is that i have never seen this person drunk ever. He just one day told me that he was going to AA and i was floored. Also, he comes to our house, there was always liquor in the bar and he never drank any. He told me that once he starts he cannot stop. We did go on a cruise w/other family members and the next day everybody would say how he closed the bar. This person is shy and an introvert. Very nice guy, wish he wasn’t so lonely.
My dad was killed when I was 7. I have very few memories of him.
I hope the few memories you do have are good ones.
My father was a good man, although a difficult personality. He was uncomfortable with any type of affection. It was difficult to be his daughter because he was very strict; very old world Latino dad. However, as the years passed, I came to know more about him and to understand him more.
What I learned was that at the age of 12 he had to drop out of school to help support his mother and three siblings. His father had taken off at that time. His mother remarried an abusive man and had 4 more children by him. Needless to say he didn’t get along with his stepfather. His oldest sister, whom he idolized, ran away from home.
My father was always a hard worker, though, and everything he did was for his family. He had the courage to leave Cuba and everything he knew behind to come to the US to a state where no one spoke one word of Spanish–and he spoke not one word of English. He did have a trade though, he was an auto mechanic. He worked for a car dealer and eventually saved up enough money to have his own shop. That was his dream; he had a shop which the government took in Cuba. With that modest income he supported a wife and three children. Helped me through college and my younger brother through art institute. My other brother learned a trade. He also helped five of his seven siblings get established in the US. He would help anyone who needed it and had a soft spot for animals.
If a man is to be judged by his legacy, then he was definitely a good man. He raised three children to become responsible, productive citizens of this world. He was not a public figure, yet when he died 170 people came to his funeral. Many with stories of how he had helped them out. I wish we had been closer.
He had a heart for people, thank you for telling HIS story…TRACK
I am always amazed at how immigrants come into this country not knowing anybody or anything, not even the language, just for the opportunity to do better for themselves and family. In your father’s case to get out of Communism as well. I do not think i would ever have the courage to do that. They did it for us.
I count myself extremely lucky to have had a Father who was not only adored by me but my two brothers and one sister and in turn all his grandchildren. His love shone through him and he was happiest walking hand in hand with a child to show them a bird’s nest, take them to the local farm to see the lambs born, catch the fish in his pond and the frogs spawn. Even now when I think of him I feel his cuddles and love.
He was the most precious person to me and my family he is sorely missed.
My Dad is actually my step-dad. He stepped up to the plate when I was 5 and is the only father I have EVER KNOWN!!! This man actually raised 3 children that WERE NOT HIS!!! My biological father decided he couldn’t deal and left my mom without a word – such a great man. My Dad not only kept a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, food in our stomachs and shoes on our feet – he gave us discipline when needed along with guidance and encouragement. He even protected us from the neighborhood bullies when were young. There were times he even took up for us against our mother when he thought she was in the wrong. It took my brothers getting grown to realize just what he did for us. And when that realization came in the resentment my brothers had been feeling for him turned to guilt at the grief they had given him while growing up. There is NOTHING any of his children wouldn’t do for him because we all consider ourselves BLESSED in the utmost to have him for a father!!! Our biological father leaving turned out to be the best thing that could ever have happened to us. And would you believe this no good so and so NEVER showed his face again after leaving – so we could cross paths in the street and wouldn’t even know who he was.
wow, that is a great story. I have to say that i personally have not met many men like your step-dad. The story is usually the opposite. Trust he is alive and well and that you and your brothers remembered him yesterday. Did he have children of his own?
Hi Lynette: We did celebrate. Guess what my Dad wanted to do on his day? Go to Coney Island amusement park!!! Now my youngest brother was in town that Saturday so he decided to put everyone in his SUV and drive down there. Unfortunately, they couldn’t get through because there was a “mermaid” parade that day and the streets were actually blocked off. He ended up turning the car around and going back home after sitting in traffic for 2 hours. My Dad is 71 – going on 72 – and his health is very poor. But he’s determined to live life to the fullest to the VERY end!!! When I went to see him on Sunday he was actually cooking dinner for him and my Mom and it was like 90 degrees outside and they didn’t want to turn on the air conditioning. Of course, I raised all kinds of cain and he just looked at me like I had two heads and said – “Relax, I’ve got it all under control.” He’s an inspiration to us all!!!
I like him…TRACK
Persimian, Wow, you just reminded me of how my father would take my sister and me to Coney Island once every summer. First we went to Nathan’s and had whatever we wanted, even the expensive fantail shrimp in the cup! He would patiently watch us go on numerous rides and we finished off the night with big ice cream cones. I always had pistachio. My dad died at age 62 – thirty two years ago and I’m still heart-broken.
Your dad sounds like a gem. Enjoy every minute with your parents. I hope you have him and your mom for many years to come.
Wow, what a guy. How blessed you are.
I just posted this on Vibrant Nation about my dad, who raised 3 teenagers after my mother died at 41.
http://blog.darrylepollack.com/2010/06/the-patriarch/
Been reading both heartbreaking and heartwarming posts on here. Here’s mine. My father was an alcoholic who cared more about where his next drink would come from than his family. He made my mother’s life hell. My older brother and I never brought friends home, and spent most of our teenage years at my grandparents’ and other friends’ houses to escape. He never laid a hand on any of us. But the verbal abuse and rants were constant. All my older brother and I wanted was for our mother to leave him. When my husband told me, after we were married about 5 years, that he wished he had known my father and knows he would have gotten along great with him, my jaw dropped. Apparently my mother had been painting a picture of a wonderful guy and kind of forgot to mention some of the cuter stories – like when he used to take me to the library when I was a kid and leave me alone in the car for an hour or so with my newly borrowed books, while he had a beer or two in the bar. He died of a heart attack when I was in college and the only grief I could muster was for my Mom who was left with raising my 10 year old brother, and very little insurance money to help with that. My brothers and I haven’t spoken about him since he died. So my husband got his information from my mother, who had seriously revised history. I worried way back about how my brothers would turn out as fathers, given that they had such a great role model. But they are both wonderful dads. They used to say that we all marry someone like our fathers. But I made sure my hubby was quite the opposite before we tied the knot.
Your father sounds like my grandfather. He was a nasty, violent alcoholic and my mom actually – purposely – got pregnant and married at 16 to get away from him. My grandmother stuck it out until she was 63 and my mom forced her to move away from him after he literally tried to beat her to death while in a drunken haze. To this day my Mom has NOTHING nice to say about him. She hates him with a passion – she says – because he stole her childhood. The only good thing I remember about my grandfather was a swing he built for us when I was a child in their backyard. This was during one of his RARE sober days. The last time I spoke with him I was 10 years old. In a drunken stupor he accused me of stealing and threw me across the room. I hit my back against a dresser and when my Mom saw the scar she FLIPPED!!! I never went back there and to this day my motto is: hit me and die (or at the most you’ll never have to worry about seeing me again). I don’t know how or why my grandmother stood it for 36 years, but she did. When it comes to being a good father some men got it – most men DON’T!!!
My father left my mother and I in 1946. I was 6 months old and she was pregnant with my brother. There was no contact. He was a raging alcoholic who abused my mother. Luckily she had the courage to toss his skinny ass out. The hard part was we grew up without decent fathering. It was tough. I believe that the rocky start we had and the absence of a positive male influence destroyed my brothers life. He died a few years ago, at 56. Alcholoism had desrtoyed his health. You cant tell me there isnt a gene. I guess though the jist of what Im getting at is that sometimes adversity early in life makes you strong ( it certainly did for me) but sometimes, if you dont have the steel to overcome it, as my john didnt, it’ll knock you down forever.
So sorry to hear you lost your brother so early. My Dad was 52 when he died. I quite agree with you about that gene thing. I watched my brothers carefully for years for signs. All 3 of us drink. But occassionally. So we lucked out. That and we all had a good lesson in how drinking does not lend itself to good marriages and parenting.
We were lucky to have good male relatives and neighbors to help fill in the gaps too. My uncle taught me how to ride a 2 wheeler, not my father. He also spent countless hours teaching my older brother how to drive. My older brother taught us. I did cry at my uncle’s funeral – a lot.
Morning, I don’t believe if it happen to someone in childhood, and that someoneturns and does it to someone else has to be a choice.! If I’m mistreated or abused in childhood and I hated what happen to me, WHY WOULD I DO IT TO SOMEONE ELSE? ANOTHER CHILD!? Because a person knows the hurt it causes, you have to purpose in your heart to do it again. People drink cause it’s a choice and get caught up in their decision and drugs are another choice, unless you were tried down and focused. I think we/people make too many excuses for people to continue to do wrong. Always excuses…And girls are programmed to take what some males will dish out and what some women will do also…we must train them differently. That’s my stand…
Thanks MOM for standing up…TRACK
I’m grateful mine never got to physical abuse. What a sad story. I remember one time I thought he would get physical. I came home from a Junior Achievement meeting when I was in high school to find my father in a rage. He said he saw me hanging out with boys on a street corner about 6 miles from where I had attended the meeting. (Of course he said it was on his way home from work, but was actually on his route home from his favorite bar). Called me a slut (I lost my virginity 4 years later) and refused to call my girlfriend’s father, who had driven us there and picked us up, or my JA leader who held the meeting, to get to the truth. To this day I don’t know if I was angrier at my father for not even caring to find out I was not lying, or for not being able to recognize his own daughter. My mother told me to ignore it. But he was screaming at me and throwing things. I was so terrified that it’s stayed with me all these decades.
I can’t help wondering if things would have been different for at least some of these folks had they been born a generation or two later. I know my dad, after two DUI crashes, would have been forced to take action. They were fender benders, so he was never charged. Wouldn’t happen like that today.
Mine was a good man – not perfect mind you. When my mother & sister left (I was 9) my older brother, my twin brother & myself lived with my father. He was a hard working man, very charismatic, handsome. There’s no doubt that I was Daddy’s little girl. Also had been a Navy man. He died of cancer at 62 (24 years ago). This past weekend I went to my niece’s college graduation party & my uncle (his younger brother) & his family were there – haven’t seen them since my father’s funeral. Got to hear some great stories about my dad when he was younger. It made me so happy to spend time with them but so sad at the same time (my kids never got to meet him). Miss him everyday.
My mom says my dad was the only man in his family to get up in the middle of the night with babies, change diapers, etc. He has a sharp mind and a fantastic sense of humor; which his five children have inherited. He never drank or smoke and went to Mass every Sunday, but never wore his faith on his sleeve. He has the Irish gift of gab and a temper that was all bark, but kept us in line. He’s 92; my mom’s 85 and they’ve been married 57 years. He’s not an expressive guy or lovey-dovey but he always showed us he loved us by being there for us.
So many sad stories I have read and in any ways I could add another one about my father who was a good man ….with many problems alcohol. women and anger…but he never physically of sexually abused us… My heart goes out to the sisters on the page who suffered such , The one good thing that came out of my fathers faults is I knew what kind of man I wanted and what kind of man I didn’t want… My husband was a daddy that was on point, cared for the kids and assisted me in any way he could , any thing that they needed for school or to better themselves he provided, once my son went on sage to perform on his trumpet and the pianist ( an adult) played off key and threw him off key on the trumpet and he was so embarrassed we thought he would never play public again… his dad my husband went out and bought himself a trumpet and practiced Moon River with our son and they both performed it together on stage….gave our son his confidence back an he went on to win several music contests…
Lynette I like you had a wonderful loving mother who taught me to be proud and go for what I wanted in life, but to help others on the way… May you and your siblings be blessed.
Lynette I am so sorry that your father was not in your life and that you found out so many years later that he was not a good father to his other family. I am sure that him not being present in your life left a void in your heart. Like you said, Thank God for your wonderful, loving, and nurturing mother.
My father is still alive at 83 and he has always been a Great Dad. He always put the needs of his family first and worked every day until he retired. I have such fond childhood memories of my times with him. My father, mother, brother and I were always a “family” and did family things together. He played childhood games with us like hide-n-seek, red rover, red rover come on over, badmitton, took us on many a camping trips to the Smoky Mountains and Myrtle Beach. We didn’t have a lot of money but he made the effort to make sure we did things as a family and that is what makes him SO SPECIAL. I know I am so blessed that he was my father.
Sending hugs to my sisters who posted heart-breaking stories here about their fathers.
My dad was a good man. In my eyes, a wonderful man. He was kind, hard-working and helpful. He was my beloved grandmother’s first child, his father died when he was two years old, my grandmother remarried and had three more children. My dad was close to all his siblings his entire life, but as I discovered later in life- he had conflict with his step-father. My dad was the worker bee in the family, my “grandfather”- not so much. As my uncle said at my dad’s funeral-”during the depression, when grown men had difficulty supporting a family- my big brother, who was a teenager at the time, worked all kinds of odd jobs and put food on the table for 6 people”. My dad left high school at 17-exaggerated his age-and joined the Navy. He spent the next 4 years fighting in the Pacific during WWII.
After the war he just wanted a steady job-having lived through the depression. (After he died I learned that he had saved and bought a gas station before he joined the Navy and relied on my “grandfather” to manage it while he was gone. It was sold and the $ spent while he was fighting in the Pacific.) Post war he found a civil service job on a Navy base, went to school at night to gain promotions and spent his entire career working for the government and being grateful that he had a good steady job, “with benefits”!
He was a great dad, strict, but loving and my older sister and younger brother and I adored him. Our mom was also strict, but not as loving and I wish he had gotten more affection-he deserved it. He worked hard his entire life, knew the difference between right and wrong, and would gladly help anyone in need. We used to tease him about his garage. He had a workshop out there and at any time you could find vacuum cleaners, etc, any household appliance that wasn’t working which had been brought over by a neighbor- asking if he could fix it-and most of the time he could.
He got lymphoma and died at age 72-entirely too young. He was still a very vital, active man and it was difficult for all of us to watch him go through the transformation that cancer makes. I watched my mother stay by his side everyday during this difficult time and it gave me an appreciation for her that I hadn’t had before. I thank God for this.
Yes, my dad was a good man and how fortunate I was to have him in my life.
p.s. I read the other posts and am amazed at how many other VN women have dads that were Navy men. Go Navy!
All these Navy men…..Isn’t that amazing! My Dad was in Pacific too!
Wow-maybe some of them knew each other!
I was thinking the same thing
I wish mine had been non existent. I remember laying awake at night praying he wouldn’t come home drunk and raising hell. Never could figure out why my mother stayed with him all he contributed to the home was misery.