The years continued on and I desired less and less to go back to NY to visit. I was in college now. It was around this time that my dad fought to have me emancipated a year earlier than what the divorce decree stated. He did not want to pay child support anymore. He did not even want me to go to the college I went to. He wanted me to go to the university near him, so he could use me as a tax write off. I refused.
The emancipation battle was the last straw for me. There was another volcanic eruption from me and I let more of my anger go. I told him I did not want anything to do with him and didn’t for many years. It was a huge financial struggle for my mom to raise me, basically as a single mom. My dad was not there financially, emotionally, mentally, or otherwise. He did not help put me through college. He selfishly wasted his own money on his gambling addiction. To this day, I am still paying on my student loans.
My relationship with my dad has been on again and off again over the years. Every time I reach out and try to give him another chance, he just wastes it. We would have a few good moments here and there, but for the most part, our relationship stinks. He met a nasty woman and I told him not to marry her, but he did. She raked him over the coals financially and now they are divorced.
When he had a heart attack and had to have bypass surgery, I dropped everything and flew home. I was hopeful his near death experience would have jolted something, but time proved me wrong again. Nothing had changed.
Even today there is a strained relationship between us. I call him. I send him cards for Father’s Day and birthdays, yet I get nothing in reciprocation. I struggle to even find the right Father’s Day card that isn’t a lie. I didn’t have a sweet, lovey-dovey, daddy relationship. I am not about to pretend that I did, One thing I can’t be is fake. It is what it is.
Now that he is older, he is losing a grip on reality. He watches all kinds of crazy programs about conspiracy theories. He thinks everything is a conspiracy theory. It’s crazy talk. I try to stick to safe topics, but eventually the conversation ends up in the X files.
I have had to resign myself to the fact that I will never have that ooey, gooey, daddy/daughter relationship. That ship has sailed long ago. The reality is I can only muster enough grace to be caring and check in on him from time to time. I have forgiven him a long time ago, but I am still wounded. I can’t even begin to imagine how my brother and sister feel. I know my mom has forgiven him, but she has not forgotten.
Continued...
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