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 Posted: Sun Mar 04, 2007 10:03 pm
Ugh My father...I love him but I really wish that my childhood wasn't taken up with his drunkeness.
What I remember of the time when my parents where together isn't necessarly good. Drug use, and lots of drinking...Thankfully the drugs left the pictures about the time I was 10 years old, but the drinking lasted up untill about 3 years ago.
Through out it all he left behind numerous broken promises, but I can live with them all as long as he can remain sober, like he is now.
I know I just made my dad look evil, but really there are a lot of good times wiht in all the bad. Camping trips in the summer, trips to SIx Flags, my first concert was with my father (U2). I dunno...not sure how I can make him seem like what he really is....
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Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2007 9:56 am
My dad... Uhm... he's never been much of a dad, I guess.
My parents divorced when I was six and I lived with my mom until she kicked me out. Before their divorce he was never home, as he travelled a lot. I remember I always asked where he was, and always got weird city-names as an answer... I sorta hated those places because I never got to see him.
After the divorce I didn't get to see my dad much either (probably because my brother and I always got hurt when it was "dad's weekend"), but when we did it was usually fun. But the "getting hurt" part delayed my mom from letting him see us (it wasn't his fault really, but he never looked after us or checked what we were up to).
After my mom kicked me out he agreed to let me live with him for a while... and I can say he's no good as a dad, but as a weird sort of friend he's not bad either. Which makes him much better than many of my friends' dads, anyway.
I also had a step-dad, and he was sort of an idiot. He would have been great had he cared for my mom... but he had an affair with some other woman and got kicked out of our house. Too bad, because he could have been a nice step-dad.
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Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2007 12:57 pm
I am lucky that I had a strong relationship with my father. I was a daddy's girl as long as I can remember. He used to take me to breakfast and drive me to school every morning, and spending that time with him endeared me to him more than to my mother. I'm sure that he couldn't hear half of what I said--he had residual hearing loss from his time in the USAF during WWII and I talk too fast--but the fact that he listened to me regardless and gave me that time exclusively instilled a lot of confidence in me that I don't think I would've otherwise had. I think having such an important and integral bond has made dealing with his loss (November 29, 2005, one of the worst days of my life, if not the worst) harder. The thing is, he was older--he had turned 83 the week before he died--and he had two daughters before me. That he was from a more stable and conservative generation (at least familialy) gave him a model of the traditional nuclear family by which he abided his whole life. I won't say that he practiced on his older daughters and figured out his mistakes by the time he got around to me because I see many parallels in terms of how he raised them and me. We may have had our conflicts, but I ultimately knew we were only angry because we were so alike and he didn't want me making the mistakes he did--he was mischievous growing up, to say the least--or any mistakes at all. It pains me that not everyone has a father figure like I did, because I don't know how I would've turned out had it not been for him. Life is so hard without him. I wonder, is it harder to have known a wonderful father and lost him, to know a troubled father, or never to have known a father at all?
--ashleyatusc
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 1:58 am
oh man... where to start with my old man...
for starters, before i was born, my mom had my older brother, who died 5 hours after he was born. when my mom was 7 months pregnant with me, he came home in a drunken rage and threw her down the stars. he told her to kill me like the first one. he was abusive to my mother and me until she had my younger brother. not long after that, he just up and left us. i was 3. i didn't see him again til i was 11. then it was twice a year until i was 16. by then i was old enough to do the things he enjoyed doing, like hunting, fishing, and working on cars. for quite some time, i resented my old man. i'd almost go as far as blame him for my teenage drug abuse. then i remember when i dropped out of college. i thought he'd be pissed at me. oddly enough, though, he understood. he went through hell and back trying to change and become the father i needed him to be. i remember one late night where he and i were drinking coffee and talking. by this time we became friends. i asked him if he ever regretted not getting to know me and my brother till we were older. he said he had many regrets in his life. the biggest one was not being there for us while we were growing up. the second was that he messed up with my mom. we started to become really close when my daughter was born. his grand daughters were his world. then, when they were only 6 months old, he got thrown in prison for 9-20 years for something he didn't do. that's something i won't go into detail about. all i know is my father is many things and has done a lot of wrong doings in his life, but he's an innocent man. he just had to grow up, i guess.
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 6:07 am
My dad... where to start. Well, I suppose I should start by saying that depression and bipolar run in our family. My father's mother killed herself, two of my father's sisters are bipolar, I'm bipolar, and my dad... my dad had depression when I was young.
I was a mistake. No, I don't blame myself- that's ridiculous- I actually find it really amusing that I was a mistake. That's what my parent's get for using the "rhythm" method of birth control. Anyway, they couldn't afford a third child, they didn't have space for me, so they had to move. Money got really tight and my dad had to work two, sometimes three jobs. He and my mom started fighting and my dad had- maybe has- a mean temper on him. His depression didn't help. He hurt my mom a couple of times, but more often he'd take out his anger on my brother. He wouldn't beat him, he'd just drag him around and yell and once he threw him on the ground. He never hurt me, not once, but hurting my brother was worse than hurting me. My brother and I have always been very close. By the time I was 7 I hardly ever saw my dad... then one day he wasn't sleeping in the bedroom with mom anymore, and then suddenly he was moving away.
That man wasn't my father, not as I know him now. Just as I feel I cannot be blamed (though I take responsibility) for my actions when I was deep in my bipolar, so my dad can't be blamed for what he did when I was little. My dad is a wonderful, insightful, caring person who has made my life infinitely richer and deeper. He is always there when I need him and is the most understanding person I know. He is one of my best friends. He now lives with my stepmom in Boulder, and my fiance and I plan on moving to Colorado as soon as possible to be closer to my dad (among other reasons).
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