Each Father’s Day I am reminded that I did not have mine in my life growing up. I was the last of ten children, and about the time I was born, he was barred from coming to the home.
He was an alcoholic and a gambler, and though he fathered biologically 10 of us, that’s about the extent of his involvement.
My mother never derided him to me. What I learned was through my older siblings. I remember my oldest sister telling me that our father never held any of them and told them he loved them. In those days divorce was not as common as it is now, and women just stayed married. He didn’t physically abuse any of his children or my mother, until as I said around the time I came into the world.
My thought this year was just about why some men are not good fathers, and I came to the conclusion that they perhaps did not have a father to teach them or show them how to care for, teach and love like we expect fathers to be. I do know his mother was stern and lacking in the demonstration of affection… again hearing from my older sisters.
I would suppose generation after generation could react the same way unless there is an offsetting person to make a difference. In my family, that would be my mother. She had so much caring and nurturing within her, that it made the difference for my brothers and sisters.
She never demonstrated bitterness and she had plenty of reason to do so, as she never knew from day to day whether she would get money to buy necessary food and for other necessities of living.
Because of her gentle, loving and forgiving nature, we were able to then raise our sons ‘and daughters’ with the same qualities…. and although she remained separated from our father, and she could not at the time speak herself; when she was told he had died, tears rolled down her cheeks.
She still loved him!