Re: I miss my dad

[Guest guest]

I wish I could be there to put an arm around you!  Forgive yourself, to whatever

degree you can.  We all do our best at any given time and we do what we know. 

You had to survive and acted and did so accordingly, like the rest of us.  I

often picture my dad with the sun shining down on him and me looking up at him. 

I know he is here with me whenever I need him and that visualization helps me

immensely!  Think of three good memories of you with him.  Focus on those and

others if they come.  That's what it was about for you and him.  Even if they

are few and far between.  I don't have very many memories of my dad because he

died when I was 10, but I hand on tightly to the ones that are there.  My belief

is that he is standing slightly behind you, just off your shoulder with a warm

smile looking down at you.  These are the thoughts that help me through the

times like you are having now.  Could you write him a note?  I've done that too

and

have felt it is beneficial.  I hope this was somewhat helpful and have you in

my prayers!

 

Take Care Of You,

JaneSoul

I miss my dad

My dad passed away in August of 2005, at age 58. I miss him more

every single day. I think that the loss of my dad is what has really

been the hardest thing for me to get over when it comes to my anger

at my mother. To be truthful, my dad and I didn't have much of a

relationship at all. My mom was very much the gatekeeper, though I

didn't see it at the time. When I was younger, and my mother was

more sane, my dad was an AWESOME dad. I was very much a daddy's

girl, he called me his " baby girl, " for my whole life, and it was

definitely reality. As I got older and my mom became nuts, she

started interfering with my (and my sis') relationship with my dad.

He was in the Navy and so wasn't home all the time, but he wrote us

wonderful letters, called frequently, and clearly loved us very

much. As much as he became distant when I was older, I NEVER doubted

my dad's love for me. When there was a problem in my life I knew I

could go to him and he would hug me and be there for me WITOUT

JUDGING. Anyway, my dad became (I believe) very depressed over the

years. Having lived with my mom for nearly 38 years, I don't blame

him! He ended up spending most of his time in his room (they didn't

share a room from the time I was 12, supposedly because of " his

snoring " ). When I called the house to talk, if my dad picked up the

phone, my mom would pick up another extension and tell dad to hang

up. Unfortunately, he always did. If I came over to spend time and

was talking with my dad, mom would have an urgent need for my

help...and I always went.

My mom HATED my dad. She was cruel to him and quite open about it.

She blamed him for everything, judged him for everything, and nothing

he ever said or did was right. I wish with all my heart he would

have divorced her and been able to live a happier life. My dad DID

stand up for me when he witnessed my mom's psycho behavior. He would

take me out somewhere, or give me permission to do something if we

knew she would throw a fit, and in my older years when she would rail

on me he would step in with, " That's ENOUGH! " I remember one time (I

was 24 years old, by the way) she and my sister had me trapped in a

room for an " intervention " about the man I was dating, and I was

crouched in a corner sobbing because of how awful they were being.

My dad barged in, grabbed me up and hugged me and told them to stop.

My mom always called and complained about my dad to me no matter how

often I told her to stop. She would say " I'm your MOTHER, " and I

would say " And HE is my FATHER! "

When he got sick with cancer, he only lasted 6 weeks. During that

time, my mom got to play martyr. She would sit by his bedside all

day, directing everything, stroking his head, holding his hand. All

of a sudden my dad was painted white...and she LOVED the " grieving

wife " routine. My grandpa (her dad) had Altzeimers and lived with

them...and so when my dad was in the hospital (all but 1 week of his

6 week illness) someone had to take care of grandpa. During the day

my sister did it (she didn't have a job) and when I got off work I

had to do it because sis wanted time to go to the hospital. So when

did I get to see my dad? Rarely. Only on the weekends and even then

my sis and I had to split the time caring for grandpa. I barely got

any time with my dad and I will never forgive my mother for being so

damn selfish. She didn't even like him, and for me he was my world,

the only true unconditional love I had ever felt.

I will never forgive myself for not spending more time with my dad.

I will never forgive myself for not telling my mom to hang up the

damn phone when she picked up. I will never forgive myself for not

just sitting in his room with him, enjoying the baseball game

together. I think what kills me the most is that I always WANTED to

do those things...but I felt so responsible for my mom AND if I did

retreat from her or family get-togethers to hang with my dad, I

got " you're just like your father. " I let what my insane mother

thought of me dictate the way I treated the only person who has ever

loved ME for ME.

I think this is my biggest problem. Sometimes I wish I could just

die because I must have hurt him so badly. He must have really

thought I didn't care. I hate that stupid b****. I feel like the

most disgusting evil person for saying this, but: I wish he was still

here and she wasn't.

Sorry...Father' s Day dredged up a lot.

[Guest guest]

Dear Jess,

I know you miss your Dad! That is so natural. His love for you was

so special!

You said that even though your Dad grew distant when you were older,

you knew he loved you. Guess what? Even though you didn't spend a

lot of time with him, he knew you loved him. People know when they

are loved. Even though your times with him (on the phone, in the

hospital, etc.) was shorter than you would have wanted, trust me, your

body language/tone of voice conveyed your love to him. He not only

knew you loved him, he knew how controlling your mother could be. He

didn't blame you. He understood. Be comforted knowing that you and

your Dad shared a special love. There was a mutual understanding

between you.

All of us wish we could have done things differently in our lives.

When we lose someone that wish turns into regret. But we don't have

to live with regret. As we come to an acceptance that some wonderful

things in our lives are now in our past, we can embrace the special

memories free of regret. Perhaps you could write him a letter, telling

him everything you wish you could say. Maybe you could put it in

type of scrap book with his picture. Anything to help you get more

closure. I'm glad you knew his love and he knew yours. Hold him in

your heart. Someday your painful memories will no longer hurt so

badly, and you can look back on him with joy for what you shared.

Hugs,

>

> My dad passed away in August of 2005, at age 58. I miss him more

> every single day. I think that the loss of my dad is what has really

> been the hardest thing for me to get over when it comes to my anger

> at my mother. To be truthful, my dad and I didn't have much of a

> relationship at all. My mom was very much the gatekeeper, though I

> didn't see it at the time. When I was younger, and my mother was

> more sane, my dad was an AWESOME dad. I was very much a daddy's

> girl, he called me his " baby girl, " for my whole life, and it was

> definitely reality. As I got older and my mom became nuts, she

> started interfering with my (and my sis') relationship with my dad.

> He was in the Navy and so wasn't home all the time, but he wrote us

> wonderful letters, called frequently, and clearly loved us very

> much. As much as he became distant when I was older, I NEVER doubted

> my dad's love for me. When there was a problem in my life I knew I

> could go to him and he would hug me and be there for me WITOUT

> JUDGING. Anyway, my dad became (I believe) very depressed over the

> years. Having lived with my mom for nearly 38 years, I don't blame

> him! He ended up spending most of his time in his room (they didn't

> share a room from the time I was 12, supposedly because of " his

> snoring " ). When I called the house to talk, if my dad picked up the

> phone, my mom would pick up another extension and tell dad to hang

> up. Unfortunately, he always did. If I came over to spend time and

> was talking with my dad, mom would have an urgent need for my

> help...and I always went.

>

> My mom HATED my dad. She was cruel to him and quite open about it.

> She blamed him for everything, judged him for everything, and nothing

> he ever said or did was right. I wish with all my heart he would

> have divorced her and been able to live a happier life. My dad DID

> stand up for me when he witnessed my mom's psycho behavior. He would

> take me out somewhere, or give me permission to do something if we

> knew she would throw a fit, and in my older years when she would rail

> on me he would step in with, " That's ENOUGH! " I remember one time (I

> was 24 years old, by the way) she and my sister had me trapped in a

> room for an " intervention " about the man I was dating, and I was

> crouched in a corner sobbing because of how awful they were being.

> My dad barged in, grabbed me up and hugged me and told them to stop.

> My mom always called and complained about my dad to me no matter how

> often I told her to stop. She would say " I'm your MOTHER, " and I

> would say " And HE is my FATHER! "

>

> When he got sick with cancer, he only lasted 6 weeks. During that

> time, my mom got to play martyr. She would sit by his bedside all

> day, directing everything, stroking his head, holding his hand. All

> of a sudden my dad was painted white...and she LOVED the " grieving

> wife " routine. My grandpa (her dad) had Altzeimers and lived with

> them...and so when my dad was in the hospital (all but 1 week of his

> 6 week illness) someone had to take care of grandpa. During the day

> my sister did it (she didn't have a job) and when I got off work I

> had to do it because sis wanted time to go to the hospital. So when

> did I get to see my dad? Rarely. Only on the weekends and even then

> my sis and I had to split the time caring for grandpa. I barely got

> any time with my dad and I will never forgive my mother for being so

> damn selfish. She didn't even like him, and for me he was my world,

> the only true unconditional love I had ever felt.

>

> I will never forgive myself for not spending more time with my dad.

> I will never forgive myself for not telling my mom to hang up the

> damn phone when she picked up. I will never forgive myself for not

> just sitting in his room with him, enjoying the baseball game

> together. I think what kills me the most is that I always WANTED to

> do those things...but I felt so responsible for my mom AND if I did

> retreat from her or family get-togethers to hang with my dad, I

> got " you're just like your father. " I let what my insane mother

> thought of me dictate the way I treated the only person who has ever

> loved ME for ME.

>

> I think this is my biggest problem. Sometimes I wish I could just

> die because I must have hurt him so badly. He must have really

> thought I didn't care. I hate that stupid b****. I feel like the

> most disgusting evil person for saying this, but: I wish he was still

> here and she wasn't.

>

> Sorry...Father's Day dredged up a lot.

>