The Father I Always Wanted

Fatherhood is circular. One moment you’re the child with a dad and the next you're the father, leading a child. Not soon after that you’re the granddad, staring at your lineage, your inheritance. It happens too quickly, almost like a few bleeps on the radar of life. I have very early memories with my dad, riding on his back, going fishing and taking the family camping. These are fond memories, mixed with excruciating pain. Pain of self-hatred, then pain of depression, confusion and feeling completely lost within myself. 

My dad worked a lot. He had a lot on his plate. Failed business, four kids and trying to finically build himself back up from the wreckage of his dream job not working out. He tried with what he had. He came from a broken family - a mom with mental illness, his dad, distant and lost in his introspective thoughts. He lost his only brother while he was a young teenager, followed by his parents divorcing. He was forced to hold it all together. He had no other choice but to work towards a brighter future. And that he did. He met my mom when they were in high-school and found solace, dedication and commitment in their relationship. Something I can only imagine he never had in his family. 

As I look back on my life from 41, I can see how incredibly painful and difficult it must have been for my dad to create a constant family unit. How much he had to lay down many of his dreams and desires, for the sake of us, his kids and my mom. Unfortunately, as I was growing up this way not my perspective. I saw him as distant, lacking courage and not my biggest fan. The influences of being Gen-X were in full force, tainting my perception of him. Not only that, I was a kid. I hadn’t lived enough life yet to fully grasp the level of commitment he had for me and my brothers. I saw through eyes of pride, ignorance and selfishness, which I guess is a byproduct of being young. 

This perception of him caused a lot of internal pain and feelings of rejection throughout my years as a teenager. I blamed him for a lot of my sense of inadequacy, for the deep depression that was my norm and for some of my most hidden demons. Now I regret that perception. I wish I could visit my younger self and kindly explain why I was feeling that way and how much a real man, my dad is. 

Overcoming those perceptions was not easy, but the older I got, the most tragedy that entered my life, the more they slowly peeled away from my insecure and angry child within. I could get glimpses of his love, his strength and his genuine care for me. My inner child fought my old identity and the inaccurate story I told myself. So much of my protective mechanisms worked against me, turning my loving father into an enemy of my mind. I was hyper-sensitive around him, would withhold a lot of decisions from him and guarded this wounded child within. 

In my 30’s, I watch myself slowly begin to shed some of those old ideas. That process was painful and cleansing at the same time. It took a lot of courage to remove these defense mechanisms, one-by-one from that terrified kid within. As each mechanism was slowly removed, the victim, that I identified as, was also removed. For the first time, I had to walk around without these destructive identities. I had to face myself in new and honest ways. Ways that would at times scare the shit out of me and other times cause me to feel like a million bucks. 

Sitting here today, having just entered my 40’s, I am amazed that my father has become the man I always wanted him to be - not because he’s changed - but because my false assumptions are now gone. I can see him clearly, as the man he always was. I can see his care, his desire to remain committed and to support me. I am humbled to see this process and how wrong I was, which leads me to question your story of your dad. How much of it, is distorted by perceived hurt, pain and lack? Maybe, just maybe your dad is the man you’ve always wanted him to be but you’re living with perceptual filters that tell you a different story. 

Love you dad.