When I was a kid, before my brother was born, almost every memory I have involves me and my dad.
I can remember being about 3 years old with a Scooby Doo fishing rod and reel, sitting on a bank one sunny afternoon fishing with my dad.
When I was ten years old I remember Dad being at every softball game I had.
I remember how Transformers was my favorite cartoon and how my brother and I were convinced that Dad was secretly Optimus Prime because he drove an 18-wheeler.
I remember how when I was about twelve suddenly Dad was less interested in our time together and more interested in hunting and fishing with my brother.
I remember how when I was fifteen it seemed like such a hassle for him to answer any of my questions.
I remember that when I was eighteen my best friends mom died and Dad promised me that he would go to the funeral with me since mom was out of town and then he didn't come home for the night.
I remember how when I was twenty-one he told my mom that he hated her and the life they had together.
I remember how from the ages of twenty-two to twenty-six he spent a large portion of that time in and out of jail, fucked out of his mind on meth and alcohol, and spending time with a bunch of absolute waste of space group of people.
I remember when I was twenty-five he sent me a birthday card a month late with a three page letter telling me that he loved me and he was proud of me and that once he got out of rehab he would turn his life around and I would be proud of him again one day too.
I'm thirty now. He is sober but I'm still not proud of him. Since I was about twenty-two or twenty-three, I quit expecting him to be in my life. When it comes to family events I know there is a possibility he might show up. But a bigger probability that he won't. I have adjusted and accepted that he will never be in my life in any big way.
For a long time I was angry with him. Almost ten years of anger really. I was jealous of other girls that had their dad around every single day. I never had that really. My dad was a long haul truck driver from the time I was born until I was about seventeen or eighteen. He would be home maybe 2 or 3 weekends in a month.
He is a fun guy to be around when he is sober. He has all the jokes. He knows how to play guitar. He can sing really well. He knows how to make you feel like you are the only person in the world.
He also knows how to make promises that he won't keep.
I have seen my dad two times this year. Once when he showed up to help me move and once over the fourth of July weekend. Kind of sad when he passes through the town that I live in at least once every three or four weeks since January. The last time I talked to him was back in July. He called my phone by mistake one day. I got to hear his voice but he didn't speak to me. Every time I call him he hems and haws about how busy he is so that our conversations last a minute or two at the most. And he always promises to call me back as soon as he can. But never does.
When I saw him over the summer I was a little angry with him because he had promised to see my brother a few weeks earlier but he of course didn't go or call to let them know he wasn't going to make it. So, I told him how shitty I thought it was for him not to call them. I told him that I expected his asshole moves but that Daddy Amazing deserved better. Especially since he is about to have his first child.
Part of my dads charm is that he can get tons of sympathy from others. He is good at telling how his daughter is upset with him. How she is mad because he didn't call her. She is upset because he didn't stop in to see her. But he never tells the part of the story where he made the plans to be somewhere at a certain time on a certain day. He never tells the part about how he went to see an old friend and drank a bottle of Jack and played the guitar all night long. He never tells how he was hungover the next day and slept until 5 in the afternoon and then started drinking again since he missed his obligation.
So, after I expressed my anger at him for standing my brother up I got bitched out by my aunt and uncle and various family friends for telling him how I felt. I was told how I don't understand what he goes through and how I should cut him a little slack every now and then.
But they didn't know that he was supposed to be somewhere. They didn't know that Daddy Amazing's feelings were hurt. They just knew that I had bitched out my father (in private) and how he was embarrassed to be reprimanded by his daughter.
I have decided that I don't give a fuck what others think about my relationship with my father. That includes my brother, mother, aunts/uncles, and family friends. I have accepted how he is and I have decided that I'm no longer going to allow him to get away with the bullshit anymore.
And if anyone has a problem with how I treat my father they can all go fuck themselves. Because their opinion doesn't mean shit until they walk a mile in my shoes and see how he is from my prospective.
