I am not only a motherless child, but a child without a father as well. My journey with grief has not been an easy one. My mother died in March 2015 and then my father died in January 2016. I certainly did not expect to lose them so early in my life and so quickly together.
I have already shared about the loss of my mom, but there will be more to talk about as I go along. This post will focus more on the loss of my father. We were not as close as I would have hoped. He was probably the only person in my life that I could not be honest with. My mom had set me up to believe he was too fragile to handle life and stress. She never pushed him to pay the child support he owed her. He was really good at making promises, but not very good at follow through.
My parents began dating in the 60’s and got married in 1970. They attended the same church growing up and their families were friends. My mom was 19 years old and my dad was 22 years old when they got married. I remember when I was 19 years old my mom would ask me if I intended to marry my current boyfriend anytime soon. I thought she was crazy for even thinking that. I let her know that I was too young to get married, but knowing her history I could tell she did not want me to make the same mistakes.
My mom and dad both attended college, but my mom never finished. She quit so my dad could complete his degree of Music and Business. This fact still makes me angry because throughout his life my father never did anything with his degree and my mom struggled to move further in her career because she didn’t finish her degree.
When I was 2 my parents divorced after my mom found out my dad was cheating on her. She shared a story of how she left him and she was so proud of herself. He was leaving for the night and she told him that if he left she would not be there when he returned. She said he did not believe her so she wrote him a note and left it on her pillow. The note read, “Do you see me?” She thought this was so funny! We moved in with my grandparents who I adored so my life was still stable in my mind.
Later in the 80’s my dad was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I was not informed of this until I was probably in high school. I always knew something was off with my father, but really didn’t know why. Looking back it all makes sense. While they were married my dad would disappear for days and opened credit cards my mom didn’t know about. I think he thought she would just “put up” with all these issues, but the final straw was her finding out he was cheating. My dad was more like having another child than having a partner. I’m thankful my mom decided that she could not allow this to continue in our lives.
When my mom was single she had a lot of fun I’m told. I was too young to really know about all of that, but the stories I have heard sound like she really lived as a fun single 20 something at that time. My grandparents kept me every Friday night and I loved that. We watched Dukes of Hazard and ate Captain Crunch! My mom was not really fond of me eating “sugar” cereals as she called it, but my grandma Taylor loved to spoil me.
Another story I remember was when my mom was dating a guy named Rich who was a NASA engineer. She was happy with him, but I don’t think he was sure about marrying a woman who had a child. At that time, my mom met her next husband who swept her off her feet. It sounds great, but he ended up being the person she would spend 28 years with and he was abusive. He followed the typical cycle of abuse: honeymoon phase, tension phase, explosion and then back to honeymoon. I remember her friends thinking he was the greatest because he would shower her with flowers and jewelry as gifts. Looks can certainly be deceiving.
My husband joked with my mom that she chose a pantyhose salesman over a NASA engineer. She would laugh about it too, but knew why she made the decisions she made. She loved her husband, but she stayed too long in something that I feel eventually led to her mental health issues. She was a typical abused person. She would apologize all the time and needed to keep up appearances. It makes me sad that she was stuck in that cycle for so long.
As my mom’s marriage moved us from Florida to Georgia I saw my dad even less. His sister lived in Atlanta so occasionally when my paternal grandma and he would come to visit my aunt I would see them. I remember going to see the Atlanta Braves play with my grandma because she loved the Braves. This was the 80’s when they could not give tickets away. I loved spending time at my paternal aunt’s house because she and her husband were so creative. My cousins always had such interesting rooms and did many fun things. Being an only child was fun, but sometimes I wished I had siblings. My mom’s husband had 2 daughters, but they did not live with us and only visited a few times a year.
In 1989, we moved to Wisconsin from Georgia. I was not looking forward to moving so far north, but looking back I am so glad we did. I enjoyed my time in high school and college in Wisconsin. I have met some amazing people and had some great experiences. My father was not really part of the equation after we moved. He did not come to my high school or college graduation which was disappointing, but expected. Again, I was never fully able to tell him that his un-kept promises hurt me.
My dad’s existence was a sad one. He lived with his mother until he finally remarried in 1997. By living with his mother I believe he never was forced to deal with life or the consequences of his actions. In 1998 his mother/my grandma died. I was glad my dad was remarried so that he was not completely alone. He married someone who has 2 children. One of the children has many disabilities and trials he has had to endure. I saw my dad being someone who was there for his family, but when I spent time with he and his wife I realized she was a “mother figure” to him also. She had to tell him what to do and keep him from falling into old habits. She also had to deal with his episodes of Bipolar where he was hospitalized on and off. I’m thankful for her, but at the same time frustrated with her. (there’s more to that story, but I will explain that later)
While they were married I started receiving birthday and Christmas presents. I don’t think he ever told her that he didn’t do that prior to her. She seemed to think I was this ungrateful brat who didn’t want to spend time with my dad. I was also 23 years old when they got married so I didn’t really feel as though I owed my dad anything. I was no longer a child and I didn’t really seek a relationship with him at that point.
In 1998, when my mom moved to North Carolina from Wisconsin with her husband she was very concerned about leaving me without any parental support. She called my dad to make sure that he knew that their daughter would be on her own. I remember my mom getting into an argument with my dad’s wife because she told my mom I was not very grateful for my father. I thought my mom was going to lose her mind. If you know her you know she always kept it together and would not allow herself to just yell at anyone. She told her off and asked to speak with my dad. My dad was not anymore helpful. He asked my mom, “does she need money?”. My mom said, “no she needs a dad!”. I had never seen her that way, but was really proud of her. I knew he would not be the first person I called if I needed anything, but I appreciated her attempts.
I met my hubby in 1998 so I was definitely not alone anymore. We got married in 2003 and we invited my father. I remember saying to him “if you can make it”. He snapped back, “why wouldn’t I make it?”. Oh gee I don’t know you have never been to anything significant of mine before. No I didn’t say it, but I was definitely thinking it. He asked if he could walk me down the aisle and it was probably the first time I could be honest. I told him that mom was going to walk me down the aisle because that position was reserved for the person that had always been there for me. He was probably hurt, but didn’t say anything. We allowed he and Michael’s father to light the family candles for the unity candle. It wasn’t really what I wanted, but it was the best I could do for him.
The wedding was beautiful. My picture with my dad was the first picture we had since I was a young child. It was nice of them to come, but nothing really changed in our relationship. My husband seemed hopeful for me, but I had to remind him that I was past getting my hopes up. My mom and dad walked into the reception together and that was definitely awkward, but they both survived. I also didn’t do a daddy daughter dance because that didn’t seem appropriate. He asked me to dance and we did, but I didn’t feel totally comfortable. Sad really.
The next few years I heard from my father every 6 months (birthday/June and Christmas). When we found out we were pregnant we let him know. He seemed very excited. He offered to come visit for a week after Elias was born. Once again, Michael got his hopes up for me, but I didn’t. I just couldn’t allow myself to expect more from him. His visit was very strange. He struggled with sleep apnea, but did not use a cpap machine. He would fall sleep while we were having a conversation on the couch. He would wake up because he couldn’t breathe and would go running for the bathroom. It scared me to be honest. I had never seen anyone act that way. I also noticed his medications in the kitchen. He had very high doses of his medications for Bipolar. He took Lithium and said he had been taking it for probably 25-30 years. I tried to talk with him about it, but he didn’t want to talk about it. I was a therapist by then and knew more about psychotropic medications, but that didn’t change his perspective.
That visit was so unsettling. We honestly started to think that his wife needed a break and sent him to us for a week. It was a very long visit for two people who never see each other. I tried to talk to him about his mental health, but it was difficult. He barely held Elias when he was there so I was really unsure what we were going to do to fill our time. I remember talking to my mom and she gave me suggestions of topics to talk with him about. Again, I tried, but didn’t do much good.
In 2012 he called me to tell me he was divorcing his wife. He sounded as though he was in a manic phase and possibly drinking. He was living in a motel with some interesting folks. One in particular that he said called him “daddy”. I was rather unnerved by that and tried to help him understand what was wrong with this picture. He said they were just friends and he was just helpful to her. I didn’t hear from him for about 6 months after this and actually began to worry. I searched google to see if there was an obituary or arrest record or something. My intuition was correct. He was arrested for not being able to pay his motel bill. He eventually went back to his wife and seemed to be more stable.
We moved back to Wisconsin from Ohio in 2013. Elias was 2 almost 3 years old when we moved. My dad called us around Elias’ birthday and said he was going to send him something. I knew how that has always gone so I tried not to make a big deal with Elias because I didn’t want him to be disappointed. I was correct. He never sent him anything. I knew I needed to limit our contact with my dad because I just couldn’t let Elias get hurt the way I did.
In March 2015 when my mom died I got a Facebook post from my dad’s wife on my wall, not even a personal message, saying how sorry they were for my loss. If my dad knew anything he knew how close I was to my mom so I was very hurt that this was all he could do. I didn’t receive a phone call or anything. I later received a phone call in May 2015 from my dad. It went to voicemail. He was angry and told me that whatever I thought was going on was not going on. He didn’t understand why I wouldn’t call him back and that I needed to call him back. His approach completely sent me reeling. I was not going to allow him to yell at me and blame me for whatever his distorted mind thought was going on. I was done. Officially done.
In November 2015 I got a weird Facebook private message from his wife. She said some vague statement like, “if you want to know anything about your dad contact me”. I was done. I assumed maybe he was having a manic phase and was back in the hospital. A month later I got another message from her. This time more descriptive. She said that he was dying and basically like a child. She said they believe he had multiple strokes and was having liver and congestive heart failure. She was planning to put him on hospice and needed me to know. I thanked her for letting me know. I thanked her for all she’s done for him and offered support. I told her that I know it has not been easy being with him, but that I knew he loved her. She didn’t want to hear from me. She said that I didn’t need to worry because he was in such a state that he will probably not remember he had a daughter. (Not sure why so vindictive, but she let it fly for sure) I would never say that to someone and I would recommend that even in grief no matter how angry you are saying that to someone’s child is just cruel.
Again, she didn’t fully understand my story with my dad and that was still apparent. She only saw it from her perspective. I asked her to let me know when he passed. I knew I couldn’t do anything else as she let me know she did not intend to have a funeral. I started my next journey with grief, as I was still dealing with the loss of my mom.
In January 2016 he passed, but she did not let me know until 3 days later. I again offered support and thanked her for all she had done for him. I asked her if there was anything he would have wanted me to have. She never answered. Telling I guess.
My journey with grief has been turbulent to say the least. My father was not the person I needed him to be, but he was still my father. The loss was still real. My biggest revelation was that I no longer had parents. I was left without parental support. One of my mom’s biggest fears. I work through it daily, but every holiday, every birthday, every time I want to call my mom I am reminded.
I have judged myself harshly many times for not being more understanding of my father’s mental health issues. I am a therapist after all, but what I had to realize was that I am still allowed to set boundaries and when a family member’s issues impact your own family or yourself it’s okay to put your needs first. Not easy, but necessary.
If you also have joined the ranks of the parent-less I offer you support and hugs. It is not an easy road and I hope you have someone to talk to. Coping can be so difficult. Seek counseling to show you different ways to care for you on this journey. Be patient with yourself and others. Allow time to heal. Don’t rush yourself.
Lovely with a side of chaos 