Mourning a Father I Wish I Had

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My dad recently died.

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He’s had a series of health problems over the years. Some of them were self-inflicted by lack of care and pure laziness. Some of them were things he just couldn’t help and was part of the aging process.

As it became clear to me that my father would die soon, I started to think about our relationship over the years. My father wasn’t the type of man I would call loving. There were pockets of time when we didn’t talk at all because he was rather unbearable to be around.

He could be a very difficult man, and sometimes, cruel. He honestly wasn’t a good dad and I’m not entirely sure if he was a good husband to my mother. Sometimes, being too honest is bad if it hurts another person’s feelings, especially when they are a child.

I can’t say his attitude changed significantly when I became an adult. He would lecture me about things I honestly felt he was doing because he loved to hear himself talk. He often went on tangents that made no sense to anyone else. It got to the point where I just stopped telling him anything because it felt like he was looking for an argument more than he was trying to understand why I did what I did.

For all of my dad’s faults (and there were plenty, trust me), he made up for it by being a fantastic grandfather. He spoiled Bear and the other grandkids rotten. So being a good dad wasn’t really his forte, and with my dad being a Boomer, it might have been just how he was raised. But being a fantastic grandfather was where he shined.

He and Bear often FaceTimed each other, talking upwards to four times a week. He once bought Bear a year’s worth of school uniforms, socks, and masks. He would give Bear money for chores.

The final year of my dad’s life, I can honestly say we got along better in that one year than we did in my entire life. I would call him in the middle of the day to see how he was. We talked a lot during the recent NBA Finals and he was telling me about the player they call The Joker.

Maybe my dad realized he was too old to be doing foolishness and slowed down. Maybe I just realized life is too short, and I knew he wouldn’t see his 80th birthday (my dad died at 77).

I last saw on him Father’s Day in the skilled nursing facility where he was and knew, that was it. He was still lucid, but one can tell when the end is near. He was talkative with Bear and Maks while I stayed with my mother outside and kept her company. I told my Dad I would see him again, but I don’t think either of us realized how soon that would come.

I got the news he was found unresponsive in his room. Going home to Palm Springs wasn’t a rush, but it wasn’t something to take lightly. Because Bear was in school and had other activities, I traveled solo to see my dad in the ICU. He looked like death, and I knew he wouldn’t make it.

I didn’t care for the way the news of his death was delivered to me via group text message and allegedly it was my mother’s choice. I also didn’t care for the person delivering said text but that’s a different conversation for a different post. Important issues like life and death always require a phone call, full stop.

I’m lucky to have a great group of friends who have been amazingly supportive – Margaret, Tracy, Melodee, and Ricci. Ricci is my sister from another mister and she’s just been amazing in her undying support. Listening to me vent, rage, and cry. Melodee has offered prayer and assistance with anything. Margaret has offered a healing session and a playdate for Bear with her son (our sons are BFFs) and Tracy offered the same with her daughter, Bear’s other BFF.

I’m glad I made amends for everything my father has done, and I was able to appreciate him being a great grandfather. I never got the apology I’ve always longed for but I’ve made my peace with everything. I hope he rests well.

It’ll take me some time to come to terms with everything and I’m not sure how long that would actually take. I am glad my dad and I were able to end our relationship on strong and good terms. And maybe, just maybe, in the final year of his life, he was the dad I wanted all along.