Father's Day is such a mixed bag for me. On one hand, I have a husband who was absolutely born to be a dad. He's an incredible father and his dad is an amazing grandfather to Aidan. The problem for me is my relationship (or lack thereof) with my dad.
I was an accidental pregnancy. My parents were young (Mom was 20 and Dad was 25) and were serious drug addicts. My problems with my Dad started pretty early. Mom was in labor with me for 18 1/2 hours so there was plenty of time for my Dad to be there, but he wasn't. My uncle Billy was the man standing by my mother's side when I came into the world, not my dad. I lived in an apartment with Mom, Dad, my Aunt Cathy and my grandmother until my parents split up when I was five. Even when we lived together as a family, my dad was never really around and when he was, he wasn't into being a hands on dad. In fact, I don't have a single memory of playing with my dad during those years.
In the years that followed, I only really saw my Dad on holidays and for a few minutes on some Sundays. My dad came to one dance recital when I was eight and he came to my high school graduation. No violin recitals, no other dance recitals, no school plays and no awards assemblies. He took me on one weekend vacation to Ocean City, MD and even that was during a tropical storm so we didn't get to do much. It was always apparent that my Dad didn't really know me and didn't care to know me. I always could almost see the countdown in his head to when I turned 18 and he didn't have to legally give a damn anymore. In my entire life, I only have one memory that represents a true moment of father-daughter connection. When I was 18, my grandfather died and my dad and I were both devastated. We were at the funeral and "Amazing Grace" began to play on the church organ. My Dad just hugged me close and we sobbed together. I had hoped that this would be the beginning of a new start for us, but I was wrong. My grandfather died in October and by June I had moved to Virginia to move in with Ryan. On father's day 2004, I called my dad to wish him a happy father's day. When he answered the phone, he was so high on some substance that he didn't even know who I was or why I was calling. I hung up on him and haven't spoken to him since. I realized in that moment, that I would never be able to have the relationship with my dad that I should have and that I have always wanted.
I pushed my feelings about my Dad aside for years until I had my son. I distinctly remember holding Aidan when he was a few hours old and thinking of my Dad. I look just like him and Aidan looks just like me. I saw my dad's face in Aidan's eyes and it broke my heart that Aidan would never have a relationship with one of his granddads and it hurt to see just how quickly Ryan jumped into the role of "Super Dad", which I always wanted for myself.
I try not to think about my family because it hurts and makes me really melancholy but in the week leading up to Father's Day it is unavoidable. I allow myself a little time to think about my Dad but then I have to push it aside and celebrate my husband for being the spectacular dad he is.
Any male can help create a child, but it takes a man to be a dad.
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