I don't post a lot of material on my parents, but today would've been my dad's 86th birthday and it got me to thinking. My dad was masterful at allowing people see what he wanted them to see in him. He wanted people to think he was successful and that he was a good person. He was a personality that loved telling big stories and he thrived on getting attention from his audiences, which is probably why I never acknowledged his passing in 2019 on social media and told very few people of his death. As petty as it sounds, I simply didn't want any more of his lust for attentions to be fed, even after the grave.
So why am I talking about him now? Bear with me.
While my dad erected a fancy facade fabricated on fantasy, portraying himself as a committed family man and an expert on relationships, the the reality was he prone to wander. Dad was very worried about appearances and did his best to impress his friends and extended family, but the depth of his concern on home front was another story.
He would go away for months at a time and leave us to fend for ourselves, it was common for him to leave on the road driving his semi for several weeks in a row without returning home or sending any money home, once he was gone for a three month stint. He would simply park his truck, whenever he felt like it and live his carefree life. For example he would visit ranches, end up staying there for weeks helping them bring in their herds for brandings or to go to auction. He did what he wanted when he wanted, and apparently forgot about his family at home. Once he joined up with a documentary production crew to film wild mustangs in the desert, again while we sat back home with no groceries in the house or money to pay our bills.
It stings to this day, and I can see now that much of the acting out I did in school and the trouble I got into, and my run-ins with the law were a direct result of my father's distance, not being there when I needed him to be, to hear him say that he loved us but then to neglect us.
In fact, when Tammy and I were getting married, dad was living in California with another woman while he was still married to my mom. I called and asked him to come to the wedding, and to be my best man. Why? I still loved him, nearly idolized him. He was my childhood hero, he could do no wrong, as a child I chalked up his absenteeism as part of the deal. I didn't realize the void he would leave, the insecurity, the bitterness, the resentment he was generating in my soul, the scars he was leaving on my heart and soul.
My guess is he never realized his selfish nature or the damage he unintentionally inflicted. Today there's a popular word for his personality type, a narcissist.
The scars of my father made me want to be a more conscientious parent, I won't claim to be perfect, but I can claim I tried to be present and purposeful. My dad missed Christmases, holidays, and major blocks of time with us, I wanted to be different. Actually he never changed even into his latter years he even neglected to attend our oldest son's wedding. I'm sure my children and grandchildren will judge me based on how well I lived up to my commitments, I hope not too harshly, and I hope the scars I leave behind will be thinner and smaller than those I have.
We can hope to be better than our upbringing and we can talk a big talk, but it is our actions that will speak louder than our words. Why bring up my disappointments with my dad? There is a cautionary tale in the old song, Cat's in the cradle, hopefully more people will heed its warning, there is no rewind on the clock and the time flies by quicker than we realize. Our kids deserve to be hugged, loved on, encouraged, uplifted, shaped, guided and developed, and to receive quality time from us, not just when it's convenient for us as parents.
