This weekend is not only Father’s Day but also my only son’s 36th birthday. Sadly, I won’t get to talk with or see either of them.
My father died when I was in my early 20s, but I’m proud to say I was his daughter, and those first two decades with him in my life were wonderful and enriching. My father was born in 1899, so I was a “late” baby, the only daughter after he fathered three sons, so to him I was “special,” although, since he was a “Victorian” father, I was strictly brought up.
He taught me so much of life, even though at the time I didn’t realize it. He would always tell me to be happy after waking up, as, “After all, you’ve made it to another day!” He also told me not to lose my temper or say anything in anger because it was a waste of good energy to be mad, and spoken words could never be taken back. My favourite saying of his was “Enjoy whatever you want, whether it’s smoking, drinking, or whatever. Why die healthy?” – all while he was sitting in his favourite armchair, glass of brandy in one hand, and a huge Cuban cigar in the other!
I’d like to think that I have lived and continue to live by the values he taught me and that doing so has led me down a better path. But only my family and friends could confirm this.
As for my son, well, that to me is far sadder, because he is alive and well and married living in Hong Kong but for whatever reason chooses not to communicate with his family of origin. This doesn’t stop me from messaging him on a monthly basis or sending him birthday cards, etc., but I receive no more response than a Facebook “like” when I’ve posted a message.
The pain of death is deep, and I’ve experienced it several times, but it pales into insignificance in comparison with the pain and sadness of a son’s going incommunicado on you and you know you will not see or speak with him anytime soon, and he is able to open himself to you but he doesn’t want to.
I haven’t given up total hope that one day before I die I will be reconciled with my son, and I continue to live my life to its fullest, with or without him in my life and me in his.
I am blessed with a daughter whom I’m now living with, and she has given me the great gift of grandsons with whom I have the best times ever!
| Copyright © 2018 by Penelope Griffiths |
So sorry to hear about your dad leaving you early, I had mine until I was 46. My wife's dad died when she was 26. We too have little contact with our only son, but some. That seems to be getting better, but only time will tell. Until then the best wishes possible.
ReplyDeletePenny, your dad’s advice about doing what you enjoy reminded me of Mark Twain, who wrote in his autobiography: “In my early manhood and in middle life I used to vex myself with reforms every now and then. And I never had occasion to regret these divergencies for, whether the resulting deprivations were long or short, the rewarding pleasure which I got out of the vice when I returned to it always paid me for all that it cost.”
ReplyDeleteI loved your sharing your inner thoughts and memories. Thank you. Father's Day is in Sept here in Australia. I know what it feels like to lose a parent early. I was 19 when my mom died and always felt very sad I never got to have an 'adult relationship' with her. She was my "positive place".
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