Some days the holes we all carry, points of weightless weightiness, can't be ignored. Today, Father's Day, is one of those days. My dad was 40 when I was born. He passed away in 1999 at the age of 86. I miss him, actually no, I don't miss him but I miss what I wish I knew about him. Dad's main philosophy of life, at least what I could pick up from someone who hardly ever expressed a deep opinion, was "Don't rock the boat". I miss what I wish he'd said to me. I miss hearing anything that might have said I was going to make it as a human being, an adult, a man. I miss knowing anything about my dad's hopes, dreams, thoughts, feelings. His main goal, it would appear, was to remain as benign as possible in all dealings with anyone. That may have seemed wise in his eyes and there are people who knew him, other family members who will tell you he was a "nice man", but for me, I wish he'd risked being less benign with me.
I inwardly bristle at those two words. It was not all that nice to leave gaping holes in the heart of his only son, a son that probably deeply disappointed him with his total lack of sports interest, total lack of mechanical skill, a slightly effeminate voice and carriage of himself, sensitive heart with tears that came all too easily and often, and a deep interest in all things beautiful whether they be music, theater, books or art. His silence left me to find my own value and I did not do that well. He didn't do this out of any spite but simply didn't know any better about how to father a son.
Dad was born in 1913, a whole different world. He was a very handsome man but oh so quiet about who he really was. I do wonder about his own demons and if they are so very different from mine. The closest I ever got to hearing "I love you" from dad was the morning after my first suicide attempt. He walked into my hospital room, stood there a few minutes, his eyes filling with tears, got embarrassed and turned and walked away. I was 17.
There are friends who will suggest I allow God to father me. I've allowed God to do that to some extent the last several years but, frankly, on Father's Day, the holes remain. There is something powerful about hearing from your earthly dad that you are loved and you are believed in. I know many who never heard this from your dads either, they were either absent or, like my dad, silent with their hearts. To you, I know and hear you even if you have never told me about those holes.
I have two children and I hoped to be different from my own dad. I know I was, I am not shy about saying what I think and I deeply wanted to be with these two children no matter what, enjoy who they were. I do hope that I said some of the things that needed to be said while they were young. I don't want them to be full of the holes I have. I know none of us parent without inflicting some damage on our children, I just hope some of the good I tried to pass on outweighs the bad. We do have reasonably good relationships with both of them now into their 30's. I love them, tell them this and enjoy them GREATLY. I do remember things I wish I'd done differently and it is hard for me to forgive myself but I do believe I did the best I could.
Funny thing, in spite of the holes my Dad's profound silences created, I too believe he did the best he could. I don't think he knew any better
I don't know if I am going to leave this post up in my blog. I am not seeing much transcendence in this but I needed to get some thoughts down, needed to be known on this day.
