My Dad's Letter

I've been reflecting on being a father for some time and trying to figure out what I did right but seem to only be able to find things I've done wrong. I am reminded of when I was in Vietnam and received a letter from my dad. I guess I may have gotten more than one but I only remember this one and the first line from that letter. That line said "I don't know why I"m writing this letter.". Damn, I was mad and pissed off at him. I  had never felt close to him and felt like I was the kind of son no one would want and this seemed to just validate those feelings.

When I was in Basic Training earlier I had called home from the hospital at Ft. Lewis. I had went to sick call and was sent to the hospital. I was going to have a surgical procedure done. I was feeling scared, lonely, etc. and called to talk with my mom. She started talking right away about dad leaving again and his drinking. She said she did not have any money and cashed my income tax refund check. She wanted to know if it was OK to divorce him. Well, so much for the call. I don't remember what I said and the call was short and I was feeling like the adult in the family again or rather being forced to be the adult. I was the second of eight and the 1st boy. I pretty much worked full time and went to school and help support the family and many times into the adult role. (She did divorce him.)

So here I am looking back at my being a father and thinking of my own father. It was easy as a young kid blaming him for everything. Yep, he drank and would be gone for a few months and then return. This happened over and over and got worse over time. As I got older, he called me all kinds of names and made fun of me and me fighting back just as bad. But I never knew or thought that there were things in his life he could not handle, being in WW2, had a lack of support from his family, a job that was only seasonal and that he would never be able to measure up to his brothers (he was the oldest).  I began to realize he did the very best he could and I also realized that there were things I did as a son that were not the best I could have done. I also realized that in many ways I was caught between my mom and dad and that had a big bearing on me and my dad's relationship.

I was lucky in the fact that I came to realize this before he died and was able to tell him how much I loved him and thank him. And when he was in hospice at home I was able to take care of him. I remember telling him that he did the best to take care of me and now it was my time to take care of him. I am so thankful I had that opportunity and felt so close to him in his final days. I was able to tell him I loved him and although he had difficulty speaking he told me he loved me too. I remember him calling "Mickey" from his room and me being so glad I was there for him.

In the end, I think of one night with my dad. It was getting dark and I was about 10 and he and I were sitting on the stairs coming up the small bank in front of our house. He was holding a hose with a nozzle on it watering the grass he was trying to grow. A bird was fluttering under, and enjoying the water. He was smiling and laughing watching this bird and talking to me about this bird liking the water, etc. I remember being so happy, just me and my dad. Funny how in the large scope of my life that something that seems so little and insignificant can mean so much. It is a memory that I will always cherish.