I checked my to-do list this morning before leaving for work and noticed “Father’s Day gift” at the bottom. Typically this just means a card for my grandpa, a message to the father of my children, and recently something for my husband and father-in-law. But every single year it feels strange and a little sad.
Growing up I never made a card out of construction paper and crayons, or left a handprint with paint on a piece of paper with sloppy handwriting spelling out “Happy Father’s Day!” at the top. I never picked out a tie or excitedly waited for my dad to serve me a cheeseburger fresh from his new grill. I celebrated my grandpa and uncles with the rest of my family, watching my cousins chatting with their dads, donned in their new shirts they received as a gift that day. It hurt every year. I wondered what the circumstances were when my dad left. Why he left my pregnant mom and me, not even two at the time. I don’t blame him fully since it takes two, but I always wondered if he just didn’t want me or my sister. What was wrong with me? What did my cousins and friends have that I didn’t? What made me so insignificant?
My mom married eventually, had my sister and later on gave birth to my brother but that marriage ended in divorce. She was with a great guy for seven years that I never fully appreciated until he was gone. After that, I didn’t fully form healthy relationships with anyone else in her life. I looked to my grandpa and uncles for everything. Car troubles? Richie. House/construction needs? Greg and Fred. Cool/old school music? Doug. Help with my taxes? Jeff. Learning how to drive? My grandpa. They all helped in ways a dad should and made great dates to father/daughter dances and escorts on and off the stage while I was doing the beauty pageant thing. I even had my brother walk me down the aisle. But at the end of the day, I didn’t have my dad. The person I share half my DNA with and the reason behind my thick, dark curly hair.
I spent some time with him here and there, but nothing significant and it often led to disappointment. I was thrilled to finally meet my aunt, grandma and cousins, blood related or not. But even then, it turned into just seeing my aunt and other relatives without my dad.
Last year my aunt passed away. While my cousins are still around, I feel like a lot of that side went with her. I walked into the church terrified. I had no idea if my dad would be there or not. What would I even say to him? Would I just run out crying? I finally calmed down after doing a perimeter check behind my aunt Melissa. I found out that my dad is in a nursing home with dementia. He didn’t even know that his sister was gone. He probably wouldn’t even remember me. That broke me. My dad, that left, only occasionally returning out of the blue with promises (that he always broke) and random phone calls on Father’s Day wouldn’t remember me.
This isn’t my first encounter with dementia. My grandpa, the man that was always a dad to me also has it. Early stages, but there are still days where he can’t remember our names. I always worried I’d get it one day and the idea of not remembering my children or husband completely crushes me. But seeing it first hand with my grandpa and now knowing that it might be even closer since my dad was diagnosed is heartbreaking. I’ve felt insignificant my entire life, especially on Father’s Day. This year might hurt a little more. I don’t know that it will ever get easier as my grandpa is only getting older too.
We talk about pain on Mother’s Day for those that have lost their mothers, lost a child, or are unable to have a child of their own. But I think we often forget about the kids that don’t have a father on Father’s Day. The pain is very real. This isn’t a pity party for me as I’ve grown up with my grandpa and uncles, my kids have a dad and a bonus dad, and I have a father-in-law that cares about me. But I’d be lying if I said I don’t feel that pain every year as I see photos of people with their dads — smiling, talking about how wonderful it is to have him. Post away because I love seeing happiness! I’ll probably share a funny picture of my grandpa too. But think about the kids that grew up without their dad and be kind.