Fathers

I was listening to the song "Mother" by John Lennon yesterday. That song always makes me think of my dad. I first heard it around the time my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, and I remember I always turned it off when my dad would come around because I didn't want to upset him. Just like for years after my grandfather's death I wouldn't speak of death or sickness or anything bad around my dad. I didn't want to make him upset. I'm sure he was never even paying attention to what I was listening to, but the lyrics of that song are like straight out of my dad's life, so since yesterday I've just been thinking about this stuff.

In the song, when John Lennon sings "Mama don't go, daddy come home" it makes me think of how much he struggled with my grandfather's death, and how he felt when my grandmother's life was slipping away in front of him. My grandfather, except for a few moments, seemed like a cold and detached man. Supposedly he loved me to death, and loved to play around with me. But somehow that makes me feel guilty, because I think of how much that must have crushed my dad to see. I know that sounds weird, but all his life my dad just wanted recognition and love and acceptance from his father. So to see my grandfather give so much love to us grandkids, while he basically neglected his own kids for years....I don't know, it must make them wonder why he didn't act the same way with them. Some men grow up in that situation and they repeat it on their own children. But my dad's a very sensitive guy with the biggest heart in the world. I bet when my brother was born, he promised himself he would be there for every little thing. And he has been. He would leave work early and then work at home all weekend just so he could come watch our football practices and be there for every game. When I was really little he would take my stuffed animals and do the "Bobby and Panda Show", and the "backstage" was behind his big belly. Those are some of my favorite memories. He would read "Cars and Trucks and Things That Go" until we both had the book memorized. He would take every opportunity to tell my brother and I that he was proud of us and that he loved us. And really, what can a father do better than that? There has never been a point in my life where I felt totally isolated, because I knew he would do anything. And this is not the ignore the HUGE importance of my mom in my life, but she didn't grow up with the same problems. She's always had the support that my father craved. All he ever wanted from my grandfather was for him to say how proud he was of his son. And it really makes me hate my grandfather sometimes to know how much he hurt my dad by acting like fatherhood is nothing special.

I'm more proud of my dad than I am of anything in the world. I have a few friends whose fathers, for some reason or another, were not involved when they were growing up. And I've seen how my dad has tried to be like a second father for them, even telling them how proud he is of their accomplishments. He's the reason I've never doubted that I want kids, and I am unbelievably grateful for every single thing he's given me the past 24 years.

That's all. I just felt like I should get these thoughts written down before I forget about them.