Father’s Day has come and gone as has my birthday. Yes, I’m still here! I’ve outlived my fathers lifespan. That’s good news if I do say so myself. On the other hand, none of my children visited me on Father’s Day or my birthday. Busy, I guess. Too busy for their father.
I am left to wonder if I have done an excellent job in raising independent young men or if I’ve been such a piss poor father they do not care to spend time with me? Yes, they texted and or called. I guess that is something, but we live less than two hours away.
To further piss me off, my brother-in-law seems to think he’s their father and sticks his nose in where it seriously does not belong. He’s made a habit of this through the years. My wife followed his advice instead of mine and lost her elected position and our health benefits a few years back. It was really poor advice but her side of the family seems to treat him as a demi-god. He’s not. He's an intrusive blowhard of an ass that does nothing but cause me trouble.
Anyways, does that sound like I’m jealous? I am not. Just pissed. He needs to mind his own damn business and stay out of mine.
That my sons chose to not visit with me on either of the two days a father has as his hurts. To be honest, our middle child is the only one who comes home much at all. I am grateful for that. He’s married to a good woman. She keeps his head on straight and he’s good for her as well.
Three years ago, I asked my sons for help with a backyard project. Repeatedly. None of them have ever come up to help. Not a one of them. Also for three years running I have asked them to have portraits taken. My wife, their mother, wishes for updated pictures of each to hang in our family room and at her office. I’ve gotten a lot of lip service but we still haven’t received any pictures. This spring we bought a picture of a gristmill at an estate sale. One of those Thomas Kincaid type pictures. It is very nice. It occupies the wall space that we had reserved for pictures of our children.
When I was a child we made trips back to my home town on a regular basis to see grandma. Every two to three weeks. We had grandma stay with us at times as well. Hell, my own mother lived with us for the last 17 years of her life. Before that, when we lived 2 hours away, we made regular trips back to see both my wife’s parents and my own.
So, we set good examples. I set a good example. It just doesn’t seem to have taken root. I am at odds with myself over having been a good father or a piss poor one. Maybe I’ve done an outstanding job and raised independent self sufficient young men. Maybe I have been a piss poor parent and they all couldn’t wait to get away from me and don’t care to return to visit. Who knows? Only they can answer for themselves. To me, their absence is their answer. I don’t know if they realize that or even care.
