Today is Father’s Day.
I went shopping for a card for him yesterday and not one card felt true
to me. Not the “Best Dad in the World”, “My Hero”, “Amazing Father’ etc. Not one inspired me to buy. Instead I chose the simplest and blandest
card ever. The outside had a picture of
a dad sitting on a couch, scratching his belly and on the inside, it just read,
“Happy Father’s Day”. I
t’s not that I don’t love my dad, I do. In my own way. But something inside always keeps me from
truly loving him. Oh, I know all about
forgiveness and moving on with life. And
how it’s a very healthy thing to do.
Trust me, I did the therapy sessions and the self-help books for a long
time. Until one day I finally decided
that I didn’t hate him and that I was tired of being angry and that I just
couldn’t keep going on with myself like that or I would be unhappy for the rest
of my life. So, I forgave him. But forgiving him didn’t mean I suddenly
wanted him in my life all day, every day either. I can only take him in doses and only for
short periods of time. Isn’t that
weird? My siblings do not understand
me. They think that I just hold grudges
and am mean to him. Maybe they are
right. I just can’t force myself to go
through the motions of portraying him as something he is not nor has ever been
to me. Sure, he worked hard and made
sure that we were fed and clothed (because my mom was always there for us to
make it happen) and he put us in the best private schools in the city (again,
at the insistence of my mom) But I guess what I am most disappointed in is that
I never saw him as someone I looked up to, or felt protected by. He didn’t respect us. He lied and always cheated on my mom. I
remember arguments they would have that we could have easily sold tickets to
because they sometimes rivaled something you would see on the tv show
“Cops”. And then there are the dark
secrets that only I remember. That only
I went through with him. And that is
when I remember why I have this love/hate relationship with my father. But even still, I do love him. He is my father after all.
So, for this day, the day they honor Dads, we took him to a
baseball game. My father is an avid
baseball fan. He is the one that
introduced my siblings and I to the love of the game and the Astros. It had been a while since we had done so as a
family. So that’s what we did. We did the whole brunch thing with him and
then headed to the ballpark. It was a
really, really, good day. One of those
days that no one bickered but laughed instead and just enjoyed each other’s
company. I know he was happy. I just wish that this good feeling we felt,
would last 365 days a year instead of just one.
Once the game ended, we Ubered it back home, said our goodbyes and got
into our respective cars and resumed our normal lives.
Perhaps one day, I will truly forgive him.
