My mother died when I was 13, my brother was 8, sister 6. I barely knew my father until then...he worked very long hours while my mother was living. After my mom's death, my dad showed himself to be a true bxstard and all us kids lived in constant fear of his angry outbreaks. Housekeepers came and went. My father was the son of another bxstard, an Italian immigrant, and was severely abused both physically and mentally as he was growing up. My father was only allowed to go as far as the eighth grade in school and worked after that.
I remember me, my brother and sister praying each evening that my father would have to work overtime and so we could have just a little bit more peace. When he did and we heard the garage door open around 9p.m. we would quickly shut the TV off, make a beeline for our beds and pretend to be asleep. We would then only hear our dad curse to himself for five or ten minutes and we would fade to sleep. (I'm not fishing for sympathy posts here so please don't waste your time...please read on.)
Having said all that, I've often wondered what the experience would have been to have had a kind, supportive dad in a functional environment. I'd like to hear about dads in general, experiences good and bad. I'd like to know what life with dad is/was really all about for you. I know I didn't have it as bad as some or nearly as good as many.
Thank you in advance!
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What, Me Worry?
Last edited by LoveShack.org Moderator; 15th June 2008 at 1:12 AM.
Life for myself and my siblings was alot like yours. My grandfather was physically abusive towards my dad. My father definitely inherited that anger, although thankfully he never was physically abusive (well I guess these days it would be counted as abuse but I don't think it was).
I too remember the beeline for the bedroom as soon as we knew he was home. I was punished for anything he deemed to be misbehaving. I gave my best friend our phone number and I was grounded for about 3 months. I'd leave my towel on the bathroom floor for 2 minutes to go and get some clothes from my room and he'd scream at me, smack me and send me to my room for days. I mean, these things would happen to others, but this went on up until I was 14 and moved in with my mother. I don't remember a time when he would hug me, tell me he loves me and is proud of me. Then again I get along with my mother and the last time she did that was when my brother died.
I used to pray that my parents would divorce. I got my wish and ended up having an even worse step father. I cannot even speak about how he treated me without choking up. I used to pray he would die and again I got that too.
So with the two "fathers" I have had, one is dead and the other I don't have any contact with. I can see the effect this will have on me, but not much I can do other then not let it get the best of me. I sometimes envy those that are close to their dads, like my own sister, but it is a part of the world I associate as being separate from me so I don't hold it against them or anything.
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And they make me
Make me dream your dreams
And they make me
Make me scream your screams
My Dad?
I vaguely remember him being very big and swinging from his arm laughing going, "hoo hoo haa haa" .
I Remember mornings, quiet mornings, dark outside my grandparents home, looking out the window through fields of vegetables, knowing soon my Dad would emerge from where he lived on the thirty acre property.
I can remember banana pudding, my favorite still, before the sun or my grandparents rose; and the ritual or "see you later alligator " and "in a while crocodile" afterwards as he left for work.
When I was five my mother reappeared and with her new husband in tow, expecting her fifth child. She drove me away in a red van,several states away while I was carsick on a mattress in the back. She introduced to my life, physical and mental abuse far beyond "mommy dearest", and a series of shiftless moving and schools. Living in her friends and relations homes when she was close to being confronted by teachers or neighbors or social workers about the latest set of bruises, forgetting about me for months or years at a time.
When I was 14, while hitching cross country I was picked up in Utah for a truancy violation and not yet knowing the latest relatives phone number I gave the officers my father's name and hometown. It was the first time I spoke with my Dad in years. My Dad attempted to come and get me , but by the time he arrived my mother had been notified and her relative had already retrieved me.
I was in my twenties and getting a divorce the next time , not knowing what to do with my life and having no other direction to go I drove south, I called my Dad from just outside of his hometown and told him I may be coming through the state at some point. He invited me to a family reunion a few days away, so I found a motel room and camped out very nervously.
The day of the reunion, I found him amongst a hundred other people camped out on the bed of his truck, I sat down and we both sat there looking at our hands for about an hour.
The next time went easier, I had settled within a few hours drive of him.
Today we see each other every couple of months at least, and two days never goes by without us spending an hour on the phone.
My Dad is typically soft spoken and quiet, he doesn't seem to have much to say and if he does he doesn't say it. Instead he seems ever "watchfull". He rarely leaves the side of whatever vehicle he is driving, and when forced to do so tends to be nervous for that time period.
He likes his life, land, a few horses, and hard work,he is happy with his accomplishments. He never had anymore children. I think we both find it easier to talk on the phone rather than in person , in each other's presence we resort to either fidgetyness or work.
I am thankful for the Dad I got, I've found I like him very much.
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it's easy to feel beaten down by logic. -Quankanne
I'm almost afraid to post in this thread since my Dad is a wonderful man. He's not perfect but I think he is, if you know what I mean.
He's very caring, strong and down-to-earth but also has his head in the clouds sometimes. He believes in the good of people and actively works to promote it. He's so witty and charming, using humour to deflect, guide and nullify potentially volatile situations.
Having said that, don't ever mess with his loved ones. If you have, get out your shovel, dig a hole six feet under and lie in it. He's remorseless when he wants to sink you AND he will.
I'm almost afraid to post in this thread since my Dad is a wonderful man. He's not perfect but I think he is, if you know what I mean.
Actually, I wished you would have posted more. I would love to know what it might have been like for me to have had a really great father. Having had no mother after age 13 and a father in name only, it's really a bummer not to have experienced what a nice family is really like.
There is little comfort and great sadness in knowing others here had bad experiences with their fathers. Why do people have kids if they're going to ruin their lives? Don't males know there's more to being a father than impregnating a female?
My dad was a loving parent, much more than my mom. He and I were closer than my mom and I.
As a young child, my father would be the one to read to us, and cuddle with us before bed (he was working all day long so that was his time with us), he'd watch cartoons on weekends, play board games, and (even if it pissed my mom off) he'd let me drink some of his coffee.
Throughout my teen years, he and I would go to hockey games together, baseball games, etc..
He protected me, or I guess I could say he was my barrier between my mom and I. She would nitpick me and he'd be the buffer between us. Life was just easier when he was around (family wise)..If that make sense.
He died in 1993, I miss him, I love him and I wish he was still alive.
Actually, I wished you would have posted more. I would love to know what it might have been like for me to have had a really great father. Having had no mother after age 13 and a father in name only, it's really a bummer not to have experienced what a nice family is really like.
There is little comfort and great sadness in knowing others here had bad experiences with their fathers. Why do people have kids if they're going to ruin their lives? Don't males know there's more to being a father than impregnating a female?
Reading your post made me kind of sad, thinking about children who were afraid and wanting to be away from their fathers.
I will add that my Dad was there for all the kids when we needed him. He attended every ceremony, performance, meaningful game, everything. I know he'll always be there for us, whether it's only in spirit, in my latter years.
He also gives the best bear hugs. It makes me feel loved, safe and protected.
My mother died when I was 13, my brother was 8, sister 6. I barely new my father until then...he worked very long hours while my mother was living. After my mom's death, my dad showed himself to be a true bxstard and all us kids lived in constant fear of his angry outbreaks. Housekeepers came and went. My father was the son of another bxstard, an Italian immigrant, and was severely abused both physically and mentally as he was growing up. My father was only allowed to go as far as the eighth grade in school and worked after that.
I remember me, my brother and sister praying each evening that my father would have to work overtime and so we could have just a little bit more peace. When he did and we heard the garage door open around 9p.m. we would quickly shut the TV off, make a beeline for our beds and pretend to be asleep. We would then only hear our dad curse to himself for five or ten minutes and we would fade to sleep. (I'm not fishing for sympathy posts here so please don't waste your time...please read on.)
Having said all that, I've often wondered what the experience would have been to have had a kind, supportive dad in a functional environment. I'd like to hear about dads in general, experiences good and bad. I'd like to know what life with dad is/was really all about for you. I know I didn't have it as bad as some or nearly as good as many.
Thank you in advance!
Wow.. you just described my father.. I hated him since I can remember.. I cut all 'link' with him for over 8-9 years now.. I will never talk to him again.
I can remember that he was working all week, and coming back on weekends.. (not all his life) but a lot.... we were sad to see him come back..
We were completely 'silent' when he was in the house.. for him, we were invisible... and that's the way he wanted it.. so I guess he traumatized us so that he wouldn't hear us... we were completely paralysed when he was in the house.
Not all parents should be parents.. he never liked children.. but, at that time, the religion was very strong.. and they weren't allowed to use birth control..
My father would come home and wanted sex.. my mother would tell him that it was the dangerous time of the month.. but HE wanted sex anyway.. that's how he got 5 kids.. not that he wanted kids but HE WANTED SEX.. and my mother got pregnant with 5 unwanted kids.
I always felt, since I can remember, that he hated us..
He was the worst SoB.. the meanest man on the planet... He physically abused my brothers (he never touched me though)... but he emotionally abused all of us..
He seemed to enjoy making us miserable. He was drunk most of the time.
Even if he dies tomorrow.. I will not waste my time to go to his funeral..
So tomorrow is just a day like all the other days..
__________________ One nice thing about egotists: they don't talk about other people.
well my real father is a spinless jerk, Sold out everyone in the family including his own mother and children. No one has contact with him anymore.... But I was given a second chance, ( I think God relized he made a huge mistake with the first one) SO I was given the best step father in the world He raised me from the age of 5. Treated me as his own, took child pyscology and ended up getting his masters in the field, because he wanted to treat me right. I loved the Sundays at home, big breakfast, music... H e was in the military over 40 years. Travel all alround the world. He picked me up from base, even when we lived an hour away. He bail me out if I was in trouble, He never let me down He taught me how to manage my money, set goals, and always told me i can do anything I want in life, as long as I put my mind to it. But most of all he gave me uncondional love My stepfather has ALWAYS been there for me, for almost 40 years...Yes He was a gift from God, that I know..... Today he volunteers with the youth group..., church, he just keep giving were he is needed
My father is amazing. Very protective of his family. As his children, we are greatly spoiled but he makes sure all the time that we know whatever we have gotten from him and my mother, it is all out of hard work and those things don't come easily without breaking a sweat.
I lived with my parents until I was 19 and every day until I left their house, he would make sure everyone was tucked in and it was a must to kiss all of us 3 times every night ~ on both cheeks and forehead.
My father never missed any of our games, recital or ceremonies and in return, neither of us missed any of his talks, gala dinners and ceremonies. He makes time for us ~ no matter what. I can live without the material things but I can't live without my father and mother.
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I don't know your name - you're just my experimental game
My Dad also used to be a near-compulsive fly fisherman. He's since replaced it with golf.
He used to roll-cast and side-cast on our front lawn. The neighbors thought he was nuts and would laugh at him, not that it ever bothered him. He tried to teach us how to do this and both my brothers learned to love the sport. I could never get the hang of it, snarling the line into bush or pretty much anything so I stuck to spin-casting.
He also used to tie his own flies. When he was at work, we would tie our own flies, most of which were useless.
When we were kids, nothing would do but the remotest camping and fishing possible, for some family vacations. He was always in search of the ultimate pool and the ultimate fish. We used to hike 5 to 10 miles into the bush everyday, until he could find the best place to fish. We all fished but were never allowed upstream or close to his pool.
Don't believe me? Ask anyone who has had the pleasure of knowing him. When people find out I am his daughter I have heard nothing but compliments and a genuine big smile. He is so well liked and that makes me feel good. We have a mutual proud.
He thinks I am a great artist and can't understand why I'm not rich from it yet. He even has a nickname for me and he has explored his artistic side. So we have that. I am just glad he supports it and is proud of that part of me. Not many parents would. He is a supportive Dad with just enough pushing to keep me 'on project'. He just recognized that creative tendency in me early and fed it. Instead of trendy jeans, I got art supplies. Or supplies that I would turn into art projects. "Under's I'm interested in what you can do with this."
He found what each of his children's early innate interests were and set aside time and hands on adult help to help foster knowledge and capability in all of us. He even learned to sew a little for my other sister, the seamstress.
He is kind and would give a stranger the shirt off of his back if they needed it.
Don't cross him, underestimate, or take advantage though. That would be unwise.
He will dwell on another's problems and find every solution possible in an attempt to be of full help. Sometimes this is annoying and I have to catch myself when I see myself doing it to the annoyance of others.
He is a strong man with integrity. He doesn't lie, has never cheated, believes that blood is thicker then water and that before you pay someone else to do it, try and learn to do it yourself.
If we did something wrong when we were young. We had to face the consequences. We had to acknowledge the wronged party, admit what we did, apologize and fix it. Even if it embarrassed us. That was a great lesson.
He was frugal and even though I wasn't given much. I did learn the value of money, work and assets rather early. So maybe he was right? Darn .
He is a prankster and good natured humor is welcome. We have to laugh together even if we tease each other and call ourselves on any b/s. We all look out for each other.
Sometimes he rambles too long and complains about the government. Given his age and his experiences he is entitled and I indulge him or drag victims away. He knows he rambles. Our punishment when young would be long, long, long, long lectures. Or very hard work. Often we chose the work, but it was a toss up.
One of the greatest compliments to him was someone stating that he had raised 3 level headed beautiful women.
He laughs and says that the first one made his hair turn gray, the second (me ) made it fall out, and the third made the little that was left turn white.
I will be (with my sisters) spending the day tomorrow with him and doing projects that he can no longer handle. I can't begin to repay the astounding wonderful influence that he has played in my life. There are no cards or deed that can. Yet, for those of us lucky to know what a good father is, one word will suffice.
My father is a good listener and talker. He loves to debate about any issue, especially if it involves psychology and human nature. He likes to take the odd view. He has a lot of pet subjects that he gets mildly indignant about. For example, he will tell you all the reasons OJ may very well have been innocent.
Teleology in science is another thing that he can't stay quiet about. If you say the giraffe has a long neck so that it can reach the leaves, he gets really irate.
When I was a kid, he used to sneeze incredibly loudly, and he used to always let out a stream of nonsense words when he sneezed. Kind of like, "Abba roobah! Ibba wabba! Ribbit!!!"
He said if he didn't do that while he sneezed, that it would hurt.
He has a Clint Eastwood sort of a squint, and he isn't someone to smile in social situations just to make you comfortable, although he has gotten better about that over the years. For this reason, my school friends and the neighborhood kids used to be scared of him.
When I would go out as a teenager, he always used to say, "Drive carefully. And be cool!" He had a Fonz-like delivery with things like this because of his strong Brooklyn accent.
When I was a kid he taught me what he called "greeting skills"--how to give a firm handshake and maintain good eye-contact. After I would meet someone, he would rate my greeting skills by saying, "That was a 4.0."
He likes to make puns and silly quips, and he has a habit of singing a few bars of whenever a song comes to mind by word association. He also very seriously insists he can sing two and a half songs at the same time in his head. I have never been able to understand what he means by the "half".
He was always really athletic and handsome and looked younger than his age, except for his hair, which was all white by the time he was 40. He's a health nut and somewhat vain. He has a little sports car in his garage that only he drives and he won't let anyone touch. He has huge hands with an incredibly strong grip. When I was young I loved to hold his hand when we walked.
Well my wonderful father died when I was only 4. Everyone loved him. I've talked to family (including my mom) over the years and even my grandmother (who hates everyone) and no one has a bad thing to say about him.
He spoke 6 languages. (I speak three..so maybe he'd be proud of me.) He was outgoing and liked by everyone who had anything to do with him.
And even though I was only 4 when he died, I remember him taking my sister and I to the park and I remember singing songs in French with him.
He was an exceptional man...witty and funny and loved by all who knew him. I wish I had had more time with him.
Now, I have to mention my stepdad. He came into my life when I was 13. He was also an exceptional man. So good to my mom and sis and I. I miss him so much.
He was something. He was even there for me at times when my own mother wasn't.
He taught me how to drive a stick shift. He helped me with my college assignments. He helped me move after my divorce with my ex.
I miss him so much. And my mom has never been the same since he died in 2001.
And the third father in my life is my H. He's the best father in the world to our son and to my stepson. The absolute best. I can't say enough about him.
I guess where father's are concerned I have a bittersweet experience.
My grandfather was a good man too and took the place of my dad in my younger years. He's gone now too. I miss him. He was unique and loving and wonderful.
Happy Father's Day to all the wonderful dads out there!
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SO I was given the best step father in the world
He raised me from the age of 5. Treated me as his own, took child pyscology and ended up getting his masters in the field, because he wanted to treat me right. I loved the Sundays at home, big breakfast, music... H e was in the military over 40 years. Travel all alround the world. He picked me up from base, even when we lived an hour away. He bail me out if I was in trouble, He never let me down He taught me how to manage my money, set goals, and always told me i can do anything I want in life, as long as I put my mind to it. But most of all he gave me uncondional love
He even has a nickname for me and he has explored his artistic side. So we have that. I am just glad he supports it and is proud of that part of me. Not many parents would. He is a supportive Dad with just enough pushing to keep me 'on project'. He just recognized that creative tendency in me early and fed it. Instead of trendy jeans, I got art supplies. Or supplies that I would turn into art projects. "Under's I'm interested in what you can do with this."
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