One thing we are short of in this household - is fathers. My father died in 1979, two days before his 73rd birthday. I have mentioned before that I was adopted, and the home life was not really what one would call normal. But, between the two adoptive parents, my father was my inspiration. I loved him more than anything, and of all three siblings, I was his favorite and we always had a great communication and bond.
Dad was a banker all his life, and "way back then", there was a mandatory retirement age of 65. To this day, I swear that is what killed him. He only knew his white collar world, and to be thrust into a world of idleness was a lot for him to bear. He toured Scotland and Ireland, and was writing a book about the English monarchy (which I still have in its basest form). But to do the menial chores around the house, like cut the grass, fix the plumbing - these were all alien to him.
He did the best he could, as being a parent - but having married the shrew of a ladder climbing bitch, he was never allowed to say much. Our conversations basically took place when the wench was out of the home or in a distant room.
For what it was - our relationship - I treasure the memories. He never drove, and I would take him on "Sunday drives", at which time, he would always point out the house of his NEXT wife. He would say, "when your mother is gone, I'm going to marry so and so." I thought that was pretty cool coming from this brow beaten gentleman. Unfortunately, he passed away first. My children were 2 and 4 months of age, when he died, and I regret that they never had the opportunity to KNOW their grandfather. (**They knew their grandmother, and also knew she couldn't remember their names.)
My children's father died in 2000, and the memories my kids carry are not the best at all either. He was a mean alcoholic, who ranked his wife and children way down on his list compared to: drinking buddies, extra-marital affairs, his own self and the alcohol. My husband had been married before and had two sons who were 5 and 7 when we married. We have occasional contact, and I am proud of their success in life, but they carry few good memories also. On our weekends of visitation, I was the caregiver, as their father was still busy at the bars and totally drunk. I took care of the kids with their chicken pox and cuts and bruises.
The "upside" to all of this is that my oldest step-son is a super father. His brother has not had any offspring to date. My son, will be one terrific father when the time comes. He loves children and knows the attention that is needed to help a child develop.
Thegrandson (son of my daughter), has no father in the picture - he bailed out when thedaughter was 2 months pregnant. Apparently he has donated sperm for at least 10 children that we know of. We do not dwell on that fact...we just try to provide thegrandson with ideals to follow, manners to adhere to and stability. As I am continually saying - thegrandson doesn't need a father - he has an Uncle Zac. Positive role models are always available and to date, and we don't see any problems developing in that area so far. (**So to hell with you Man Coulter and your single-mother theories!)
So, to all of you who still have a father in the picture - I say totally enjoy the moment. Not having a father in the picture is not the end all, be all of the world. The memories exist, good, bad or otherwise. We all manage to get past all the bad, and moderate our behavior so as not to perpetuate that bad.
Enjoy the day all! Later.......................
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