Dad

I've been thinking a lot about my father lately.  As some of you may know, he's been fighting leukemia since September.  He seems to be okay now.  Still going through outpatient chemotherapy, but his, white blood count is up and seems to be doing better everyday.  It was touch and go there for a while and I even got to see him on my birthday weekend.  He was still in the hospital undergoing his first round of chemo, but I hope that my visit gave him comfort.  It did for me.

What's been making me think about him even more than I already do, is a horoscope that came my way via facebook.  To paraphrase, "You will come into a large inheritance this year."  Wow...kinda scary.  It's enough that I have to live with the fact that I may lose my dad sooner than I thought I would, but then to have it spit in my face over facebook is something else all together.  Now, I don't put much stock in horoscopes, but Jesus Christ, please,  enough is enough.

So what have I been thinking about?  Well...I blamed him for a lot of things that went wrong in my life.  I shouldn't have, but I did.  I blamed him for being alone all the time.  There were three siblings in my family and I was the youngest.  Whenever Dad would do things with the kids, I was always last and never got as much time or attention as my sister and brother.  For instance, he owned a motorcycle and would sometimes give us rides. Well, when it came my turn, it was always shorter and sometimes not at all.

When my parents divorced, I chose to live with my Dad.  In my mind, it was a chance to get closer to him.  To finally get the love and attention that I so wanted and needed.  It turned out to backfire in my face.  I was told that I would get myself up and ready for school.  If I wanted breakfast then I would make my own.  The school bus wouldn't stop at our apartment so it was up to me to get there on my own.  No big deal since we lived less than a mile from the house, but when it rained.... well, I got wet.  Very wet.  When we talked about it, he said I should make friends that would pick me up or give me a ride.  Sure...easy...no way!  I was the new kid.  Straight out of Kentucky and shy.  So shy.  It took me half a year to make a friend and that was only because I was in the band.  Still alone.

I started drinking in high school.  Senior year.  Found out that I could kill most of the pain and anger of being gay and awkward.  Also worked to mask the frustration that I so eagerly wanted the affection of my father and knew I would never get it.  It wasn't easy going through life so early knowing I didn't have a chance because I would always be afraid to stand up to the one man I needed more in my life than anyone else. 

So when the opportunity arose, I got out.  Not without making a fool of myself and without hurting him more than I ever wanted to.  No one deserves what I did to him.  He didn't deserve it.  All he ever tried to do was make me strong and independent.  Responsible.  And I threw it all back in his face.  Not much of a man or a son. 

When he came to my wedding, it was one of the happiest days of my life.  I had been sober for little over a year and seeing him made a lot of things come together.  But still I let fear run my life.  I've been trying to write him a letter to explain things.  To let him know I love him and don't blame him anymore.  That everything that happened was my fault.  I'm stronger now and well on my way to being a person, son, that he can be proud of.  He can't die yet.  I need to tell him how I feel and how much I'm sorry.  How I know he did everything in his power to provide for his family and that he did the best he could do when it came to me.  I fell short.  Didn't see that he was trying to teach me lessons in life to make me survive.  But I did.  He made me strong in a lot of ways.  I am independent and can cope with a lot of things that would make some people cry.  I've traveled and seen more of the world than most people ever will.  I am the man I am today because of him, not in spite of him.  And I thank you, Dad, for making me this way.

I pray that one day I find the strength to face my fear and tell you all this.  And I pray that it isn't to late.  Please don't die before I have the chance to say "Thank you" and "I love you".