Memories fade with time: The once vivid thoughts that accompany pain or pleasure dull over time, like the white wash on a weathered fence, leaving behind only a fragment of the rage or passion. Memories of loved ones lost also fade with time. I remember my Grandparents, even my Great Grandparents, but as the slow march of time rolls ever forward, the memories that I have change. A memory that I hated at the time, might make me laugh today, or possibly even cry.
Today is my Fathers Birthday, he passed away in 1984, he would have been 75 years old. Many of the memories that I carry about him are not pleasant, but some are. We never had a close relationship, and I regret that today, we were like two Bulls circling in a pin that was too small.
As a child growing up I was afraid of him. I was afraid to raise his anger because it usually ended with a beating for me. Many nights I went to bed with welts on the back of my legs, butt, and lower back, too painful to move and unable to sleep. Its not surprising that I avoided him at all times. Its hard for me to write this and I am sure many people will be shocked to read it, not knowing or thinking that my Father would be like that.
Even after all of the abuse, mental and physical, I still loved my father. When I was 18 he tried to fight me over some insignificant event, I cant even remember why now, I was strong and grown by then, but I wouldn't fight my Father, instead, I held him in a bear hug and spoke to him in a calm voice and told him that the time for beatings had come to an end. I felt the rage and fight leave him and he actually relaxed in my arms. He walked away and never laid hands on me again.
I left for college and then the Army shortly after that incident. My Fathers health steadily declined in the next few years, but we became closer, I guess I had finally earned his respect when I joined the Army. When I reflect back and try to understand his reasoning and methods, I realize that he wanted to prepare me for a life without him.
It may come as a surprise to some, but I don't hate him, not anymore at least. I don't agree with his methods at all, and I made a promise to myself years ago that I wouldn't treat my own children that way. I kept that promise and I am close to both of my kids. He was a hard man with hard ways and I always tried to measure up. I never gave up trying to earn his respect, even today I wonder what he would think about me and the path my life took. I like to think he is up there looking down on me with a smile on his face.
Happy Birthday Dad.
