Some days when you sit down to blog, the ideas flow. Some times those ideas are good, sometimes not so good. And then sometimes an idea sticks that probably isn’t the most appropriate topic, but it just won’t go away. So today my post is fairly personal, and I’m hoping to feel better after I get it out. Maybe even someone out there will understand and have gone through the same thing.
My dad died about a month ago. I can’t be more specific than that because I don’t really remember. It was a sort of anti climatic event for me. It would follow that I would have been sad that he died, he was my dad after all, but in truth the only emotions I had about the whole thing was guilt that I didn’t feel emotions.
You see my dad hasn’t been a part of my life for the majority of it. There have been moments, a year or two when we’d connect, I tried to live with him twice, but in the end he’d leave again. I think the universe was just letting me know, not so subtly, that our relationship wasn’t meant to be. And that is fine, I had my Pepe, and my Uncle Bob, two fantastic father figures. But I still felt that loss. I didn’t understand it.
Then one day, right around the day I decided I was dying my hair blue cause I had officially stopped caring what people thought of me, I realized that holding onto the hurt and the guilt wasn’t helping me. So I let it go. We were simply separate people, with our own lives and that was okay. I could continue to harbor bad feelings for the man, or I could just accept that that was who he was. And harboring those hard feelings, they never did me any good.
And that was that. I was done. Until I got the message from my half sister that he was dying. For real this time, not just him using that to get what he wanted. And I sat there waiting to feel sad, and it never came. Instead guilt showed up and did a happy dance on my heart. And man did that suck. But eventually, I figured out (with the help of some very smart wenches..ahem..) that it was okay to not feel anything. And they were right.
But there was still one bit of unfinished business in regards to our relationship. Fairhope. You see that is where my dad was born, Fairhope Alabama. He was the reason I moved here. I have very few fond moments of the man, but him telling me about growing up in Alabama was one of them. And I moved here because of it. When I made the move I contacted him, told him I’d visit Fairhope, but i never made it. A full three hours from where I lived, life just got in the way. Then he died. I figured that chance to go and to share at least that one bit of shared history with the man was gone.
Well, I made it. He’s no longer here for me to share the picture with, but I made it. And now I feel like I at least did my part. I can live now, knowing that I did what I said I would. Something he was not known for. That might not be the best way to think about him, but it’s the truth. He never came through and I swore I wouldn’t be like that. So I came through.