Fathers Day & What It Means

For those of you thinking that this is one of those warm & fuzzy “Remembering Father On Fathers Day memories”……SORRY this isn’t one of those blogs..  You want Hallmark I suggest you find another blog.  

My Father just wasn’t one.   My Father passed away July 6, 2006.  Oh yes I remember the month & date and let me say I’m not one that remembers dates or even what day it is.  But I remember this one.   At the risk of sounding like Sophia Patrello of the Golden Girls TV series of the 80’s “Picture This”  …..I was notified of my Fathers death via voicemail one day when I came home from school by his 4th & last Wife.   I can’t describe to you how I felt.   Unless you’ve been through the exact same thing.   I was to put it mildly or for lack of a better term a complete “MESS”!   It got so bad that when I would go to the store the crying spells would attack me like an intruder who lies in wait to attack its victim..  I had no real support either at a time when someone needs support none was there for me.   All my Mom said to me was “Remember you have one parent still alive”  I guess that was the best that she could do.  But it was a shitty best that’s how I feel.    I did not get to see my Father buried either.  Nope.  His Wife moved the two of them from Los Angeles California to some small Podunk town in Florida.  I live in Washington State.  I could not afford to fly down to Florida, and Mom could not lend me the money to go.   So no final farewell!   I was kept out of everything from the Wife of Dads with not so much as a funeral program.   I did not know any details of how he was buried until years later from a priest that told Mom that Dad was buried very cheaply.

Dad never told me just how seriously sick he was either.  When I first learned of the news it was in 2005 ..  He was in the hospital that time.  And I had a hell of a time when I called the Kaiser hospital too.  I was bounced around from dept to dept…I can say in all honesty that the hospital staff sure were extremely stupid.   When I finally reached Dad he had just gotten out of surgery and he didn’t sound like Dad at all.  He talked like his mouth was full of cotton.

That was in December of 2005.   The few times I did talk to Dad all his talk was like a damn code his conversations shifted from “I’m Fine” to “I’ve just been given a party in my honor” I later surmised that it was Dad’s LAST party because he was dying, but he didn’t tell me that I had to figure that all out on my own just like every Fucking thing else in my life.

I was kept in the dark about everything regarding Dad.  I’m fond of saying (often to myself or on a blog) that my Father is like a tornado that you only have MINUTES to seek shelter from.  He hits, he devastates, and he leaves wreckage just like he has done countless times in my life before.  Kind of glad the angel of death finally paid him a visit because in my opinion Dad has ALOT to answer for to the great man upstairs.  Dad caused MUCH damage when he was alive I think I’ve covered much of that on my Mothers Day blog if you care to read it.   He caused some of the most SEVERE damage & all the while it was like la, la, lets go get ice cream or go to McDonalds, or he would go to one of many of Los Angeles greasy corner sandwich stands to stuff his face with a hot pastrami sandwich that was my Dad just so totally oblivious to what he has done.  Never thought about anyone except himself.   Way to go Dad! 😦

Sometimes I think I would have been better off if he did leave out of my life.  Sometimes I think that Fathers do a favor when they do because then there are no nasty custody battles where your pitted against your own Mother, forced to NOT call your Mother after you were forcibly removed by the courts, kept away for FOUR years of your childhood with no birthdays with your Mom, No Christmas’ with your Mom, NOTHING.   I don’t know what a Father is like except what I see on those lame commercials advertising Fathers day which to me are like one big joke like those Christmas commercials.  All bullshit.  I’m home alone, Mom is probably asleep in bed or zoned out in front of the TV with her husband both suffers from mental illness.  Mom just lives it seems in a World of her own.   I won’t even bother calling her cause all she’ll say to me is:  Why not kick you feet up & watch TV.   I have a family that is just so totally screwed up as well as clueless.  So today I won’t bother.   Getting support from my so called family if you could call it that is like hoping to win the Publishers Clearinghouse Sweepstakes…you keep hoping for something better to happen but you know it never will.    So what I have concerning that Father of mine are lots of unanswered questions, no goodbyes, and while he was here on this Earth whenever I would ask him questions regarding how he made a mess of things all I would get would be:  “I just don’t know”  favorite line of his.  

So no I don’t celebrate Fathers Day.   No point to it.  I just as soon celebrate Arbor Day.   At least that day has more meaning for me.   Celebrating Fathers Day is like the poor people of Moore Oklahoma celebrating the day the tornado came to their town & destroyed every single thing that was precious to them, or the residents of New Orleans Louisiana with Hurricane Katrina celebrating when the levees broke & flooded out their town killing a massive amount of people.    Today is just like any other.  A Sunday where I will do whatever I want treating the memories of my Father like a massive natural disaster that I wished never existed.