To my dad on father’s day…(Rated R)

Dear Dad.

You’ve been dead now for 13 years and as I don’t believe in any form of afterlife I know that you’ll never know how I feel. This isn’t for you this is for me.

Fuck you.

You were never a father to me, or more specifically, you were never my “Dad” You made it clear to mom that you didn’t want me when you took me in that you weren’t interested. You only went through with the adoption because she emotionally battered you until you did. (She was *REALLY* good at that, but I’ve come to believe that was from 40 years of living with you)

You see – I know where I stood. You were 52. You had just lost your first born to a senseless murder, your daughter, whom you ran off when she was 13, came back 15, pregnant and on more drugs than you knew existed. You were ready to crawl into your hole and die, not caring that you had a wife and four other kids to worry about, and there is a big part of me that wishes you had.

We would have been better off without you.

I grew up needing a father. You see, mom tried to teach me things, but she was so emotionally beaten that her world-view was, shall we say, skewed. She tried to teach me everything there was about being kind, considerate, compassionate, but was completely incapable of teaching me right from wrong, because in her mind what you did to us was *right*.

At first all I ever wanted, all I ever needed was your admiration. Then I would have settled for approval. Finally all i wanted was acknowledgement.

You couldn’t even manage that. And you wonder why I was always in trouble? Fuck when the cops brought me home was the only time you ever gave me the time of day. That bit about kids craving attention is true, when they don’t get good attention, they settle for ANY attention.

Would it have fucking killed you to say “Good job” even once in your miserable life? Encouraged me just a little? Bothered to show up when I got an award in school? Hell you even bitched like hell when I wanted to play Little League, when you finally broke down and signed me up for it you never ONCE hung out and watched a practice, or a game, and you wonder why I didn’t stick it out?

I know what it was. You viewed me as a potential replacement, I know that’s right or not that’s how mom probably billed it to you. “Here, we just lost a kid but here’s a NEW kid…”

I was a usurper, a pretender to the throne. The bastard child of your whore daughter. (Your words, not mine)

Fuck you.

Fuck you for telling me I was never going to amount to anything.

Fuck you for telling me I was going to live on a park-bench for the rest of my life.

Fuck you for not instilling *ANY* kind of values in me.

Fuck you for blaming me when I showed the world I had no values.

Fuck you for bailing me out, not out of any love for me, but because you were too embarassed to have a son in jail. And fuck you for ensuring that I *NEVER* suffered the consequences of any of my actions.

Fuck you for drinking EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. until you couldn’t stand up.

Fuck you for beating mom and putting her in the hospital in 1984. You think I actually believed you when you told me she had “gone to a hotel” after that fight? I was 14, and not nearly as stupid as you thought I was. It does make me wonder how many of those fights I spent my nights listening too ended in bloodshed…she always went on “vacation” after those fights. (That was also the fight where I put two and two together and realized how long you had been beating her.)

Fuck you for showing me such a damaged version of what being a *man* is that I came dangerously close to being you.

And for my final fuck you:

This is what you did to your family. (I mean the ones that actually tried to follow in your footsteps.)

#1 died because he was into drugs, and potentially into something *WAY* over his head. Shot in the stomach on his own front doorstep with a crowd of people in his house too stoned to noticed he was gone, let alone to hear a gunshot.

#2 is currently living in a Volkswagon Van on the beach in Hawaii, slowly dying if liver failure from almost a half-century of tequilia.

#3 (Daughter) is living broke in a crappy trailer in Alaska, not able to functionally deal with being a part of society. She’s no longer a drunk, which is good, but she’s still quite the pot-head. (This is my biological mom, in case you missed that part)

#4 is the one you would consider the “success” in the family. He tried to mom to move out of her very comfortable house into a mobile home to conserve the estate. (I put a stop to that) And then when she finally passed, he pillaged the estate. He is universally hated, both by his siblings and most of his extended family) One kid who he hopefully won’t fuck up as bad as you did. His measure of success is money, and only money. Treated your death as a reason to throw a party. Actually said (to his wife) the words “There isn’t as much money here as we had hoped, we’ll have to change some of our plans.” WHILE HIS MOTHER WAS ON HER DEATHBED.

#5 is a complete drunk, like you he has gotten drunk every day of his life, can’t legally drive anymore (PERIOD). He fucked up 2 out of 3 of his own daughters, was a grandfather before his 50th birthday, and now sits in his rented house with NOTHING and NO ONE.

And then there’s me. The one you decided *NOT* to parent. The one you gave up on. The one you really couldn’t have cared less about. (I mean other than the times i was an embarrassment to you, you sure as hell cared then.)

Maybe instead of fuck you I should say….

Thank you.

Thank you for not taking an interest in me. Because you didn’t care, I stood a chance. Because you pushed me away, I didn’t learn from you. Because you showed me nothing, I took nothing from that relationship acquaintance.

Though it took a while for me to learn how to figure things out for myself, I thank you for that too; I learned to rely on myself because of you.

And the final win, I’m a better father than you could have ever hoped of being. DESPITE you, not because of you. My kids worship me, and you know what? I worship them right back.

I’m a better husband than you could ever have dreamed of being. I respect my wife and listen to her when she wants to talk. When we argue the possibility of physical violence is NEVER there.

I’m a better MAN than you ever were. Because I take care of *ALL* of my responsibilities. You believed that a husband’s / father’s responsibility ended at providing for your family…you were *ALWAYS* wrong about that.

Because: When I get into a situation where I don’t know what to do, I think of what you would have done, and do the exact opposite.

That one rule, has *NEVER* failed me.

Happy Father’s Day to the *REAL* fathers out there. The ones who give a shit.

Jesse

P.S. To all the fathers who can’t be bothered to take an interest in their kids when they are at home, giving the “i’m too tired” bullshit excuse. I have good news for you.

Some day your kid will write something very much like this about you.