One of my sisters posted this pic on Facebook last night.
My first reaction was, “Momma” because I miss her so much, every day. However, because of some things I’ve been thinking about since I went home in October, I quickly reconsidered.
While 1 hour would never be enough, I’d love to sit and chat with my dad. My family doesn’t talk about him very much so I have no idea who he was. I’m not sure if it’s because I haven’t asked, if they still hurt, or if it just hasn’t occurred to anyone that I might be curious but I’ve always wondered who he was. I hate to press because of feelings that it might bring up but I do have questions.
Do my aunties have any of his mannerisms? How much are my siblings like him? What did he sound like when he laughed? Am I anything like him even though I didn’t grow up knowing him? What kind of things would he have taught me? What is his favorite characteristic about each of his kids? Would he have been as over-protective as Mom was? Why was alcohol more important than his kids? What did he think about my mom’s choice in men to watch after his kids? Lordy. (I’m not judging either parent.)
I get a lot of people grow up without one or both parents. My life doesn’t feel incomplete without him. It’s not about that. Mom & my sisters did an amazing job raising me & making me feel loved. I mean, I literally went 36 years before I started wondering who the guy was. All of my siblings had time with him so they know a little about him. Me? I didn’t even recognize pictures of him because they weren’t one of the small handful I have. It’s more about closing this disconnect I felt after I saw the words, “we owe it to Dad,” and my reaction being, “I don’t owe him anything.” Again, I know it sounds harsh (and spoiled). I don’t mean for it to. I guess I’m just looking for him to become something other than a headstone I visit once a year or a name on a fire truck.