Did You Call Your Dad Today?/Respect By Default

A few months short of nine years ago, we received news my Mom was suffering from a terminal illness. Father’s Day came two days after we got the news and before attending a family function I visited her in the hospital. Mom was sleeping, so I quietly left a note at her bedside and tiptoed out of the room. The note read:

“I just wanted to drop by and wish you a Happy Father’s Day. After all, you did the job of both parents and a hell of a job it.”

Though the family gathering later that day was enjoyable, I carried a heavy weight upon my heart. What was to become of her? What was to become of me? I’ve never been a negative thinker but the facts suggested she didn’t have a whole lot of time left. While speaking of this to a family friend, I was rudely interrupted by someone who asked “Did you call your dad yet?”

Against my nature, I stopped my conversation to acknowledge the person who interrupted. “No, but as you are aware I’ve had a lot on my mind this weekend.”

Not satisfied, the interrupter said “Yeah, but he’s still your dad…”

In a tone I don’t normally use when speaking to an elder, I quietly but firmly said “Someone should have told him that thirty fucking years ago…”

I had no regret for saying it but I must say I was surprised my response quickly diffused the situation; I surely expected things to get pretty heated. Thankfully they didn’t and I was able to spend the rest of the day in relative peace.

This got me thinking, how many other grown men are out there being criticized for having little more than “respect by default”? By this I mean how many fathers out there demand respect from their children, yet not show it in return? It’s the equivalent of a man planting a garden and blaming the garden for not growing when he neglects to water it.

The home I was at that day was the home of my uncle through marriage; not blood related but the respect I have for him is unsurpassed and accordingly, he earned it. He may not have sought and whether he likes it or not, I love the hell out of him. That love and respect was gained through who he is, from the heart and not from what a piece of paper says. He has four sons and their bond used to be something I envied as a child, even jealous of at times.

Yet there was no reason to hold my cousins in contempt for how great their dad is, nor is it their or anyone’s fault my dad wasn’t exactly Ward Cleaver or even Al Bundy. That was the life I was born into and to quote my uncle, we turned out pretty good considering the hand we were dealt.

Reading Huckleberry Finn for the first time was the first example of someone having a dad like mine. Drunk, bitter, conniving? Yep, that was my dad. I couldn’t relate to any of the TV dads or even any of my friends dads. When I watched La Bamba it scared the hell out of me, Esai Morales’ character Bob was the spitting image of my father. I had the opportunity to share these thoughts with Esai himself one day, though I was able to assure him things are not quite as tenuous as they used to be.

There were a lot of resentments and often, I was punished for having the resentments. Even worse, I was a verbal punching bag for many who had issues with him, and punished again for daring to ask why I was being criticized for things my dad did before I was even born. The resentments are gone now, at least as gone as they can be. This is something I never knew was possible. As a man wiser than myself said one night in response to my fierce criticism of my dad, “That’s his cross to bear, you did nothing wrong and you’re only hurting yourself by feeding those resentments.”

Sage advice that helped rid me of decades worth of anger in a manner of seconds.

Father’s Day is a bittersweet time for me, but in years past it was all bitter with no sweet about it. Such is the same with the relationship I have with my dad these days. Long gone are the days I would be criticized for something he did and punished for not liking it. No longer do I live in fear of him and his ways, instead I live with gratitude for who he is now. And it’s been three decades since he cussed up a storm about my mom dating, all while driving to one girlfriends house to cheat on his live-in girlfriend; now he is happily married to my step mom, who had as big a role as anyone in the changes my dad has made.

I’ll never forget what once was, nor will I hold resentments.

I saw my mom cry many times due to him, but the last time I saw her smile was because of him as well. I shook in fear when he came home drunk and took his frustrations out on us, but I also saw the sincerity in his eyes when he said “Mijo I wasn’t a perfect father, that’s why I thank God for your mom and your grandfather”. I was reduced to tears of embarrassment when he would criticize and ridicule me, in front of others, for not knowing something that most kids usually learn from their fathers; but I cherish the times he comes to town and the way my kids faces light up when hands over a bag of cookies, a handful of jerky or a new bike.

No, things weren’t always great and for a long stretch, were not good in any way. But he’s trying, God bless him. He’s honestly and earnestly trying, not to make up for the past but to be the best he can be now. And when you think about it, that’s all we can ever ask about each other…