Since I’ve shared about my mother, it’s only fair that I should share about my father. Or at least share the things that, for most of my life, have gone unsaid and unshared about him.
Instead of writing about everything that he isn’t, I want to share about everything that he is. He will be turning 73 this week. He is my only living parent.
But first, it’s important to note that he is the opposite of what my mother was. He is weak in the areas where my mother was strong. He is unforgiving in a way that my mother was endlessly forgiving. But this is not about my mother; this, I have to remember, is about him.
I’ve learned that my father is a man of big emotions, bigger than I could’ve imagined. In childhood, I associated him with taunting comments, critical and painful words, pride, and anger. As I’ve become his confidant with the passing of my mother, I’ve come to see other emotions that had been hidden for so long. Fear and insecurity are present, along with sadness and regret. His regret is the biggest of all emotions: his regret that he wasn’t able to be a more emotional father to his children, his regret that he wasn’t able to be a more loving husband to his wife, his regret that he didn’t have the same love of adventure as my mother and couldn’t be the partner that she may have deserved, and his regret that the only “I love you” that I’ve ever heard him utter to my mother was when my mother was no longer there to hear it.
My father is someone whose fear drives him to make decisions without factoring the consequences of his actions and who reacts like a cornered animal when things in his life don’t improve. I’ve learned that my fathers ability to hold grudges and cut people off stems from disappointment, whether that’s in himself or others. This is a trait that my sister carries and one that I try to let go of.
I want people to know that my father isn’t his fears, sadness, and regret. He is also the one who would always give me the other half of his candy bar, when he got home after work. He is also the one who would give my siblings the last 20 dollar bill in his pocket, even if that was the only money he had left. He is the only parent and adult I knew and know who would willfully watch cartoons and laugh alongside me without trying to change the channel (I still catch him watching cartoons when he’s alone), and I’d like to think my hidden love for cartoons and young adult novels comes from him.
My father was and is a dreamer who was fortunate to see his dream of having endless fruit trees become a reality during his lifetime, even if he had to give that dream up with my mother’s passing.
Out of all things, I’d like people to know that my father is a strong man, even though most days he thinks that he’s weak.
My father 9 years ago, living out one of his dreams.
My Lifestate 