I'll put this up front because I get if this post might be too heavy for some. A week or so ago, my Dad passed away after well over a month in the hospital due to a bout of pneumonia that quickly escalated to worse things, culminating in a sudden and severe heart attack. There's much more to the story so if you're cool with the weight, read on.
My Dad and I had been estranged since 1997, almost 30 years. It was also my choice to cut ties, even as an only child. I'm not going detail why, both because I don't see the need to trample on the man's grave, but also because it ultimately doesn't matter to the story. I was a emotionally sensitive young man and still am in some ways, though not to that degree. Part of that is just who I am, but also partly because of various mental atypicalities that weren't easy to diagnose then.
My default reaction when faced with emotionally severe situations back then was often flight. I'd extricate myself from those involved and try to stay away from what I perceived as the source of trauma in the hope of not having to relive it. I've never been good at confrontation and back then, it was nigh impossible. I would tend to just suppress my frustration and hurt until I couldn't anymore and when they became untenable, flee. Many people would say that's a bad way to handle things and they're right, but as someone who was unable to get professional help at the time and didn't know what else was at play in my head, I dealt with stuff however I could.
My Dad never once laid a hand on me, but he did have a short fuse and further, an unpredictable one. You could do the same thing at two different times and get two different reactions. Worse, you didn't necessarily have to do a bad thing to illicit them. This made me avoid bringing negative things to him and made confronting him near impossible, even when I was on the right side of the argument. He also had numerous bouts of depression and a deep distrust of others. He was a serial failed entrepreneur, in no small part because he burned every partnership he ever formed. While I inherited the depression and anxiety from him, I was the opposite on the trust issue, often giving it to people too early, too deeply, for too long, and being very easily guilt tripped. This got me mistreated and taken advantage of not only by him, but by many other toxic people in my life that others would have cut off sooner or just not gotten involved with at all.
To give him due credit, it's not that he had no good qualities. I know my Dad loved and cared for me and would have moved contintents to help if I was in trouble. Despite our family often being broke from his ventures, he always found ways to encourage my interests. I'm successful in technology now in no small part because he found a way to get us an Atari 130XE when I was little and later my first PC, among other things. These purchases were no small feats in the 80s and early 90s and he made sacrifices to make them happen, though I sometimes worry what those were. He also gave me a job at one of his companies in high school that paid what at the time was high roller money to a kid that age. I did learn valuable things from him that I carry with me to this day.
Lots of people have had similar or worse childhoods and didn't end up handling things the way I did or having their emotional development stunted. You hear stories all the time about people who were abused and then became abusers themselves but that's not me. I pride myself on my work ethic, empathy and core embedded desire to do good where I can. Many can't believe it when they hear I cut my Dad off and some have even said that I was the bad guy for doing that to family. Everyone--including you dear reader--is welcome to their own opinion. Judge me how you wish. I will just say that everyone is different and if you could endure that and keep those people in your life with no ill effects, I envy you.
I regularly thought about trying to reestablish contact with him but when I did, I remembered that I had spent my entire adult life without him in it and I would always worry that I would get pulled back into his emotional morass, especially if he hadn't learned or changed his ways. I said that I pride myself on my empathy but that also has a downside in that I too often tend to onboard the emotions of those I surround myself with and if there's too much negativity in my orbit, I become it and not fun to be around. I have a pretty good life now, but it took a long time, incredibly hard work and sacrifice to get here and I didn't want to risk it for someone who may have held me back from it had I kept them around.
Back in January, an old friend and I were talking on the way back from a convention and he brought up the idea. He did this from time to time before, I think because he's the same age as me and sadly has already lost both of his parents. Since we're getting old along with everyone else, he didn't want me to miss the chance. I'm glad he decided to nudge again. I've had a lot of therapy and done a lot of work on myself in the last few years and while I still have a ways to go, I like to think I'm better at confrontation, difficult conversations and setting boundaries than I used to be. I also came to realize that some of the issues I'm still working through are likely rooted in my relationship with my Dad and getting the chance to hash them out could help with healing them. My Dad is not tech savvy and while I knew what city he was in, he didn't have much online presense. My friend was way ahead of me and already found him on Facebook and offered to let him know and give him my email.
Sure enough, I got a message within a day saying how happy he was that I'd reached out. He said he'd made peace with the past and was willing to discuss anything I wanted, I could dictate the pace of it and if I felt the need to back away at any time, he'd understand. This was unexpected, but it's also been 30 years and people can certainly change. I felt my apprehension coming back up, but decided it was time to stop listening to it and see if this could happen.
We exchanged a couple of emails, just giving a bit of a "where are we now" style catch up. I found out that he'd been running a NASCAR memorabilia store at a flea market for about a decade before COVID, and has been doing it online in a more limited way since then. He was a minor league NASCAR driver before I was born and was always hardcore into it so it was a natural fit. He was also doing a lot of volunteering with the homeless, cooking and distributing stuff at soup kitchens. He was a dope-ass cook when I was growing up. He used the word "pray" several times and this was a surprise because he was as much an athiest as I was back in the day and I was curious what changed that.
It was going well, but then he didn't respond for a week. When he did, he said he'd gone into the hospital with pneumonia, but things were going well and he'd be back in touch soon. Then I didn't hear again for another couple of weeks. A friend of his then emailed me from his account saying he was still in hospital, but still intended to get back to me. Then I didn't hear anyhing for another long time. I called the hospital and confirmed he was still there, but every time I was transferred to someone who could say more, I was either hung up on or would sit on hold forever. I gave up trying after a week.
Then last week, his friend emailed from his account again, asking me to call for an update. I was pretty sure what this meant. His pneumonia was slowly improving, but another disorder he didn't know about was triggered and that led to a severe heart attack and he didn't make it. His friend and I talked for almost an hour. He's a good guy and said my Dad had been a family friend for a number of years. We discussed what little my Dad and I had managed to talk about before all this, but he said that hearing from me gave him a real spark at a time he needed it and even if we didn't get to resolve things like I hoped, that what we got was better than nothing and meant he didn't die with the ice between us fully intact. That meant a lot and I do appreciate him saying it.
Many others have said similar to me since. "At least you made that effort" and "You gave him something to cling to at the end". I suppose that's true, but I'm also going to have to chew on a lot of regret for not having done this sooner. I had my reasons for keeping him away for 30 years and for most of that time, I think I was right to do so. But I've also probably been in a position to be able to handle this for a while now and if I'd reached out even a couple weeks sooner, we could have covered a lot more and maybe even found some common ground before his health went south. His friend told me some more about his later life and said he's happy to tell me whatever else he can. Some of his other friends might also hold a get together in the next couple of months, just to share stories and such and I intend to go to try and learn more about the person he'd become. I'm grateful for that chance, but it still won't be the same and neither my Dad nor I will know what could have been.
It's not wrong wanting to avoid stepping back into a place that once burned you. You don't owe anyone pain at your expense. But if you see an opportunity--even a risky one--that can lead to something better, hesitating too long can also leave you with a lot of what ifs unanswered and worse, potential good things that will never come to pass. Being in our comfort zones and feeling safe is important, but we also don't achieve better or see if the grass is greener without pushing ourselves and taking a risk sometimes. You can't plan for everything, but you can try to set things up for the best possible outcome. I was probably in that place a while ago, but I couldn't get out of my own way.
My therapist and I use the term "fog walls", named after the barriers that separate you from boss fights in the Demon's Souls and Dark Souls games. To traverse them, your character has to push and force their way through, showing their commitment to the daunting task ahead. I think they're a great metaphor for the tough things in life we all have to do. They can end up in more hurt, but can also give a huge leap forward and increase in strength if you conquer what lies beyond. I let my worry control me and didn't push through until it was too late and now there's nothing there. No let down, but also no challenge and no chance for better.
Dear reader, I likely don't know you or your struggles, whatever they may be and far be it for me to tell you what to do. However, I would like to relay a small lesson from this pseudo eulogy if you'll permit me. If there's a challenge in front of you and you can see potentially greener grass on the other side, don't wait. Push through the fog and take it on. Be prepared for it before you do so and certainly, don't pick battles you can't win or that will do no good, but focus on the good you can see coming from it and use that to drive you forward. Don't say you'll get to it later or fixate on what could go wrong as reasons to stand back. It won't always work out in your favour, but even then, there's always lessons you can take and apply to the next challenge. And when you do get those wins, they'll do more good for you than just about anything else in life.
Don't worry about me. I've dealt with pain and loss before and I will process this, file it in my psyche and keep moving forward. I have great friends and loved ones in my orbit and they'll make sure I'm fine, even when I'm not sure I am. Things will be good, I promise. But I implore you, don't make the same mistake I did. You've got it in you to achieve more, go get it if you can.
Rest in peace to my old man. I'm sorry it took this long, but I'm glad we at least broke ground on a new foundation.
