First off, I don’t need any consoling. I think I’m fine. If anything, please critique me.
My dad and I were estranged for a decade, before that he barely interacted with me except to scold me for something. I was terrified that, as some people say, the loss of an estranged parent would bring feelings of regret for lack of closure. But really, it’s hard to feel much for someone who paid the bills and babysat with disinterest. I need some positive memories to actually miss somebody.
The one thing this has done has been to wake me up a bit. With climate catastrophe barrelling towards us, I’ve used my computer as an escape and I’ve neglected relationships. My phone always has unread messages. Fuck, I don’t want to be my dad, watching TV and mildly annoyed by the kids, rarely stopped to scream at the top of his lungs to tell the kids to “shut up”. Kids in my gf’s family want to play Roblox and Minecraft, ugh fine. At least have some good memories of me.
My dad’s not a bad person, he just profoundly indifferent to everything outside of TV and the middle class white people he tried to tie his identity too. My dad worked a trade, and I wish to fuck that he could be proud of being a prole. Decades of (likely) lead poisoning probably didn’t help. After retirement he got some real pro-landlord beliefs, although thankfully he never went full chud. Maybe if his son wasn’t bookish, fucking suck terribly at sport, didn’t leave the Church, go lefty, go vegan, get a small flat in the city, give up TV at 16, maybe he’d show a bit of interest. Probably if I bought a 4 bedroom house somewhere and had kids, shit, he’d start to ask me how my day was.
Talk to the people in your life, especially the young. FFS, don’t be my dad.
Can relate to this, estranged dad died a while ago now. But he was never really a big part of my life as I saw him one weekend per month as my parents split while I was a baby. Got roped into one of the three shifts of being at the hospital with him (cancer, took a couple of months) as he didn’t have anyone else, hadn’t spoken to him for several years before that.
Being told that he at least didn’t fuck up with me and my older brother (have a far younger half brother who has been involved in serious crime since his early teens) when he did fuck all to raise us was incredibly infuriating. I did more to raise my younger brother than he ever did despite only seeing him one weekend per month. Taking an active interest in what your kids like instead of treating them like a nuisance you have to pay for does wonders in getting to know them.
Having to offer emotional support to that overgrown baby who had never offered me the courtesy of the same just made me feel more resentful. There is something surreal about holding the emaciated husk of your father sobbing on your shoulder and feel nothing. Was more relieved than anything when he died. Him dying surrounded not by people who love him, but people who were there out of a sense of obligation was a reminder to not end up like him.
Sorry for the slow reply. I had work.
That’s really shit you had to attend your dad’s treatment. Ya my family is mostly functional, so at least he’s on ok terms with everyone else. I made general offers of “let me know if you need help”, but no one needed anything. The worst for you must have been no apology from your dad, no? Ya I had a better father than you did. Thanks for taking care of your brother.