It’s been a while since I wrote something that actually had some meaning behind it. So here we go,
I decided to write, when I was driving home, and the song “The Hard Way” by Eric Church came on, and it got me thinking about lessons that I wish I didn’t learn the hard way. Through the duration of the song, my mind kept wandering back to one place, and obviously it was my father.
If you know a lot about me, or have followed my blog before, than you probably know about the fact that I lost my relationship with my father when we had a falling out when I was 14. I struggled a lot and dealt with a lot of depression, and self harm, due to the fact that I felt that my own father wanted nothing to do with me.
While I was driving home, I kept thinking of the fact that my father passed away before I had any chance to have an adult relationship with the man who was supposed to have been there for me my entire life. It made me angry the fact that he knew he was dying, and he wouldn’t reach out to me and make peace before he passed. I sent him a letter, basically telling him goodbye, and that despite all out issues, I always yearned for a relationship, and always loved him.
Despite my fathers passing, I always wonder what would have happened, had I manned up and gone to see him. I had the opportunity, and I just couldn’t do it, I knew he was suffering and didn’t want to agitate him, but deep inside I wonder what would have happened had I done it.
It also seemed that with my father passing, that my involvement in the rest of the side of my fathers family, including the two brothers that blamed me for everything that happened, has disappeared. Though I’m somewhat in contact with one of my brothers, I haven’t spoken to the other one since before Dad passed away. This is the same brother who came and yelled at me while Dad was sick, and told me that I should have reached out to my brothers, even though I was 14, and he was 24.
Regardless of all of that, I wish that my relationship with my Father was a lot different, I mean, I wish I had one. Though all of the stuff has happened with my Father, it may have been a blessing due to the fact that my relationship with my Mother is absolutely incredible, and the woman is a hero of mine for doing all she has for me.
The hardest part, of the whole situation is that the first time I saw my father in close to 10 years, was when I finally worked up the courage to go see his grave. I wept. It was something that I needed to do, and I’m certainly glad that I did it. Though, it’s a lesson I wish I didn’t learn the hard way.