The dad I have now is nothing like the dad I had growing up. Having come from a dysfunctional family, I have no idea if this is normal or not. I assume so, I suppose.
I've made no illusion about my dad in the past. I've told you stories...he's an alcoholic, he doesn't necessarily like children or families. He was a mostly absent father.
The dad I have now actually holds conversations and expresses gratitude. He attends the granddaughters events without complaint. He's sober. It is as if he made a list of what he used to be and changed everything categorically.
This is, by no means, a complaint. But after 40 years of a stilted relationship at best, I'm having to rethink everything. Assumptions can no longer be made. Habits have to be broken. Defenses have to be dropped.
It hit me during Apie's graduation. He sat with my mom and the other brother in the area designated for grandparents. Kevin nudged me and gestured. "Look at your dad, he's grinning ear to ear." And he was, happily taking pictures...another thing he's never done. It was alternately heart-warming and heart-breaking.
I can appreciate the change but there is an inner adolescent that is silently shouting "Who are you and where were you twenty years ago?"
I am trying to focus on the happiness of the change. But like acknowledging it, there is also the bittersweet knowledge that this is temporary. This has only occurred because he's dying.
So, here we go. The last year can perhaps make up for the first 40 years.
I've made no illusion about my dad in the past. I've told you stories...he's an alcoholic, he doesn't necessarily like children or families. He was a mostly absent father.
The dad I have now actually holds conversations and expresses gratitude. He attends the granddaughters events without complaint. He's sober. It is as if he made a list of what he used to be and changed everything categorically.
This is, by no means, a complaint. But after 40 years of a stilted relationship at best, I'm having to rethink everything. Assumptions can no longer be made. Habits have to be broken. Defenses have to be dropped.
It hit me during Apie's graduation. He sat with my mom and the other brother in the area designated for grandparents. Kevin nudged me and gestured. "Look at your dad, he's grinning ear to ear." And he was, happily taking pictures...another thing he's never done. It was alternately heart-warming and heart-breaking.
I can appreciate the change but there is an inner adolescent that is silently shouting "Who are you and where were you twenty years ago?"
I am trying to focus on the happiness of the change. But like acknowledging it, there is also the bittersweet knowledge that this is temporary. This has only occurred because he's dying.
So, here we go. The last year can perhaps make up for the first 40 years.
1 comment:
I know. I know. Glad to know I am not alone in dealing with something like this. The whole forgiveness and moving on to who they are now can be hard.
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