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I’ve been thinking lately about how disconnected I feel regarding my father.
He’s been in limbo for so long now that I almost forget how to love the man.
I write this knowing full well I run the risk of sounding cold and emotionally apathetic, which I am definitely not.
But how do you find a way to love someone that for all intents and purposes is no longer there?
I care for him, God, I do and will forever remain his most vocal of advocates to ensure he’s treated with the utmost respect and compassion.
I owe him that and so much more.
Three years ago, I would have had a very hard time letting him go.
Today, I’m not so sure.
I want this thing to be over with for him, maybe for my sister and me too.
I want him to ‘get there’.
I want him to feel peace, not chaos; sunlight, not rain; happiness not despair; warmth and not apathy.
Anymore.
It makes me sad to write these words but I mean them in the best and most tender way possible.
These thoughts are always hanging off the edge of some deep and internal precipice of mine, wanting to fall off into some godforsaken abyss and be gone.
But somehow, they remain.
Until now, perhaps.
Maybe I’m writing these words in the hopes that they remove the chains that keep me from getting as close to him as I feel I need to be, loving him deep within my heart and not just on the pages of Smoke and Mirrors.
I waited on an older gentleman the other day that reminded me of my father some ten years ago.
He wanted to buy some cigars for his son who was celebrating his 30th birthday.
I wanted to tell him how lucky he was, how fortunate his son was that his father was still in good health, how life can change in the blink of an eye.
Giving advice on life to a man that could have been my father just didn’t make any logical sense to me.
It’s almost tragic how many things there are in my life that I no longer take for granted these days.
Like someone I love remembering my birthday.
Yeah, in a perfect world . . .
This isn’t a ‘poor me’ scenario because I honestly don’t feel that way at all.
I just wanted to let someone know just how precious certain moments really are.
I didn’t do that.
And the days go by . . . .
That’s not cold at all. It’s just life. Take care my friend.
That you care enough to want it to be done says more than anything else Michael.
It takes an enormous amount of love, compassion and self scarifice to wish peace and sunshine upon someone knowing full well that you will lose them totally.
I know mentally you lost him some time ago, but he is still here if that makes sense?
You can see him, you can hold him, he’s tangible, and real regardless of his mental state.
Something tells me this is a post that has been dancing at the edges of your mind for some time. It’s just taken till now to find the words.
Maybe it’s that i can hear them makes them seem more real.
Sad? Sure. But part of me says you feel better for having found them too….
“I just wanted to let someone know just how precious certain moments really are.
I didn’t do that.”
I cannot imagine some one with your deep love not having let your loved ones know that many times in many ways. But memories fade and often those tender moments are buried beneath a constantly accumulating everyday. Be gentle with yourself.
you’re a good son. it’s ok to want him to be at peace.
i had to “make the call” on Dad’s life support removal – despite a living will, and clear guidance from him, Mom couldn’t do it. i would have done it 5 days earlier, but Mom wasn’t ready…
i wished, and wished…. but he couldn’t go on his own. damn machines…
take care…
I know exactly what you’re feeling. I felt guilty for feeling disconnected from who my dad became. I was embarrassed by things he did, by his lack of basic social skills, sometimes I could hardly watch him, but I never stopped loving him. M, I’m e-mailing you something I wrote elsewhere, that I want you to read.
Kat
Don’t feel guilty ~m…be proud you love him enough to let him go…
{{{hugs}}}
what is it with those generations of fathers. I feel that remove too.
And that image….wow.
I see tender.
“But how do you find a way to love someone that for all intents and purposes is no longer there?”
I think you already have. It just doesn’t feel the same way as it did before, and it is hidden beneath the worries you have for him.
You care enough to let him go. That takes the strength that can only be found when you love someone.
(((Hugs)))
Mrs. V
Michael, no one who knows you even a little would ever think you “cold and emotionally apathetic.” You needed to get this out, and this is perhaps the best medium for doing so. (Breaking down and crying behind the cash register probably wouldn’t work so well.)
I have observed your private hell for three years now. Your father is neither alive nor dead, neither here nor gone. You live with this every day and can find no closure. You have born this with remarkable grace and courage. You have always done right by your father. Your ultimate place in Heaven beside him is already assured.
smith
So sad for you. No shame in having the feelings you are. Most of us will have to face a similar situation as we and our parents age. I hope you and your father will have peace soon.
“I just wanted to let someone know just how precious certain moments really are.” That really spoke to me.
This was so beautifully written and very touching.. It’s apparent how much you love your father.
Cas
No problem
And it’s actually not my first time here… I was known as “Girly” in a previous life.
“I want this thing to be over with for him, maybe for my sister and me too.” My sister and I said these very words not two weeks before our father died. I don’t regret the words or the thoughts. We only wanted what was best for our dad. We both loved him dearly. It is neither “cold or emotionally apathetic” to want something better for those you love.