Father's Day

I think I have spent enough time on this here blog hashing it out over things that have to do with my biological father. In fact, I was perfectly content with just ignoring the whole situation and going on about my happy little life. But. I feel some sort of need for closure and before I go and do something REALLY stupid like call that SOB up and start screaming, I figured I'd try to get some thoughts out here. I apologize if they are incoherent.

I sincerely hope that he doesn't celebrate Father's Day. I hope no one gives him a card or an ugly necktie, I hope there are no special BBQs planned in his honor, and I certainly hope no one thanks him for being a father. I especially hope that his step-children don't celebrate with him on Father's Day because THAT is a slap in the face I can't endure. I hope that he feels sheepish when people ask him what he did yesterday, that he gets that red-faced, uncomfortable feeling that comes with knowing you're a jerk but are trying desperately hard to hide it. I hope he's honest when people ask him if he has children. No. He does not.

I finally read the letter. The one that should never have been sent because he read something that he was never meant to see. The one that arrived months before my wedding at probably THE most stressful time in my life thus far. The one that I hid in a drawer for an entire year before convincing myself to open one night when I was home alone and half drunk on champagne. And now I wish like hell I hadn't read it. That's the truth. I wish I could take that knowledge back and return to the place where I was angry and self-righteous and judgemental but also a little nostalgic and hopeful, to the part of me that on good days would day dream about reconciling. But I can't.

At first I delayed reading the letter because I was angry and quite frankly I wasn't ready to be forgiving. I have held on to my hurt and anger for so long that I was literally terrified to let go of it. Then I procrastinated on reading because I was afraid he'd play the victim. It's HARD to be a dad when you live so far away... It wasn't HIS idea to get divorced... Blah, blah, blah. I'd heard it all before and I was NOT buying it. I have several friends whose fathers live on opposite coasts from them who manage to make it work. Frequent flyer miles and long distance calling plans exist. You have to want to use them though.

I was in no way prepared for the judgemental, insensitive and just plain cold detachment I found in that letter. I wasn't prepared for "holier than thou". I wasn't prepared for HIM to be angry with ME. I wasn't prepared to hear such childish excuses and half-hearted attempts at joking, JOKING about how distant our "relationship" is. I am not sure what I was expecting in that letter... But it certainly wasn't anything like what I found.

So you know what? I'm glad he's made peace with himself, with God and that he feels forgiven. But if it were me I'd be a little more concerned with making peace with my family and in actually seeking true forgiveness for the pain I've caused. You can't use God's love for you as a salve every time you hurt some one's feelings. That whole "I can be a jerk as much as I want but God forgives me" is a highly suspicious sounding argument isn't it? But maybe that's just me, my feelings, my projections. I've decided to just put him out of my head. Not like he's dead, more like he just doesn't exist, which as far as I'm concerned he doesn't. Not to me.

Also? I DO NOT forgive you. And I am at peace with myself.