On this Father’s Day, I decided to release some inner anger or better yet, some very inner confusion that I can say I’ve had for a long time but lately I’ve been able to understand things that have opened my eyes some in a good way about my Dad.
It’s taken me 50+ years to figure out that nothing is set in stone when it comes to pain and heartache…..and trying to find the reasons why…
I grew up in an intense environment. It seemed to me my dad spent most of his time mad at something. Mostly it seemed to me to be directed at my mom or me, but that was only my observation of the conditions and it may have been misguided somewhat. We all have our faults and one of his was, he did drink a lot and it seemed that when he did, his anger increased. When my mom died when I was 15, it was just me and him and all of a sudden I saw how much he missed my mom. His anger subsided somewhat but we didn’t improve our relationship as I became involved in a cloud filled existence of my own anger fueled by the fact my mom was no longer there. I climbed into a shell of revolting for some reason and I missed (my own doing), a lot of the 10th and 11th grades and to this day I don’t know how I passed and survived the times, but I did. My dad couldn’t control me. He had to work and no one was there to make me be the responsible hurting kid so I was sent to live with my brother and his family for my final year in HS. I’m not sure I would have survived at all if this had not of happened; it was a time of my very first thoughts of suicide. My dad had no choice but to do this. At the time I had no focus at all and it didn’t make any matter to me where I was living. Fact is my brother and his wife saved my life plain and simple.
Dad died in 1991 of cancer and still we never tried too much to repair what was broken in our relationship since my earliest years. I’m sure in his later years, it was my fault more than his. I never felt any pride coming from him. Looking at the big picture, I may not have deserved it in his eyes. He never once told me he was proud of my military times, and even though that hurt, I let it go because it was just not worth the struggle to reason why he did that among other things. My Grandmother told me once I was an accident, not planned at all. At the time I thought that was funny as hell. But when I really thought about it perhaps the answers to my questions were right there on that birth in 1950. My brother was 9 years old so it made sense I may not have been planned. But I never blamed anyone for anything because I was born planned or not.
Fast forward to now. I still, to this day, sometimes on many days, try to figure out why the anger and why the fact he just wasn’t around much. Actually, he was but never did interact much with me and as a family, we hardly never went out much together, ever. He was not easy in public crowds. He was always nervous and on edge, and if he could, he drank. Then things went downhill from there most anytime we did manage to go out’ so basically as a family, we didn’t.
I usually hide those specific memories and will not bring them up here now. A few I will… I played basketball, baseball, and other sports, and never did he see me play; it just was the way it was. The bad thing was, I didn’t actually want him to go because I knew what would happen and maybe he did too and his absence was his only way to not make a fool of himself at my expense. And let me say now, I did not hate him. I did not understand his actions or behavior at all. I just felt so outcasts concerning him. And only in the last year or so have I started seeing a light of some possible answers as to what happened to maybe turn our world on its ear.
I was always asking, why did it have to be like this? I think I am slowly beginning to understand through the social media outlets I visit. In fact I have met a lot of people who have opened my eyes to a condition I overlooked in trying to understand why it was so unstable in our family. I never thought about the possibility he had a deep-rooted reason for his anger both in public and at times at home too. The evidence was there back then but I was not aware of it. For example, If he was asleep and anyone would try and wake him, he would jump and usually yell at or scare to death whoever was waking him up. It was like he was living in a nightmare. It was a kind of hellish action I sort of tried to stay away from. He was suffering and it was a time when there wasn’t any medical programs or support from anywhere to help him out. Let alone maybe tell him what was wrong. Back then we took it as just the way it was. I don’t know to this day why mom put up with it but she did. Maybe she understood why things were the way they were and even kept them from me and tried her best to keep it all smooth running..until her heart gave out. I was 15 when she died. I don’t blame him for that. But I know the stress was taking its toll on her.
All it took was searching and discovering all the things about my dad I may not have been aware of. And perhaps, here is what I really think was the root cause of it all.
The Real Cause Of Hell
My dad was in the navy and went to different places but his real battle came as he fought in WW2 at The Battle of Guadalcanal in the Pacific. Look it up; it wasn’t a very easy battle and it got very ugly very quick and many, many lives were lost on both sides. He fought and did battle with the Japanese and he saw many who died and even was part of the killing that took place. Not one time ever did he discuss this with me. Not one time ever did I ever hear anyone discuss it around me. And now its one of the things I regret the most and am angered the most because had I known, maybe things could have been different …..So how did I first find out?
One day when I was in my very early teens I was snooping around and found some pictures in an envelope along with some more papers about his service. The pictures were horrible. Japanese and American bodies torn apart burned, and cut into pieces by the ravages of war, his war, his nightmare, burned into his memory forever. And now looking back on it I am beginning to understand the impact all this had in his head. And that led to affect his ability to cope with everyday life. Most likely, He had a severe case of PTSD and back then it was not even discovered as a condition that could be treated. I can’t imagine his reaction to a surprise of a new baby, me, coming back then.
I have a lot of Veteran friends I have made on social media that have and are being treated for PTSD. The more I interact with them and talk with some, the more I am understanding why or rather how a war took my dad away from me long before I was even born. He fought for this country’s freedom and in the process, he had to go through, he lost parts of his strength and brought home a damaged memory that perhaps led him to have trouble with coping at all with me and others. But I just didn’t know at the time if this was the case. Mom never told me anything was wrong but it was apparent it was. I remember many uneasy times I spent in fear of the next step he or mom would take. Neither thought I needed to be bothered with the truths I suppose.
And Today is Father’s day. Today I pray that all dads everywhere are rewarded today by the love of God and Family. The families who are dealing with PTSD I pray that with communicating with each other and through support groups and therapy, things can and will get better. I also pray today that my dad, God rest his soul, somehow understands I did love him and he must know I wish I knew what I know today. I know I could have helped him from the everyday nightmare he lived through and I’m so very sorry I couldn’t at the time.
The image here is the only one I have of him. It shows my dad with my stepmom Elizabeth. She got him to open up some because, in his last days, he was content, more content than I ever saw him be. She died in the 90’s not too long after my dad died. It is sad I don’t have anything else to remember him by. No pictures at all, nothing. And I am sure that too may be my fault and I have to be ok with it as much as I can.
I do believe in my heart, the first step to healing is simply to talk more. It’s too late for me to get answers and I am sure if he were alive today, he would not want to talk at all about those nightmares. But I’m also sure if he were alive and I know what I know now, he may get pissed at me but I’d really push him hard to get some of the pain out from his nightmarish memory.
Happy Fathers Day Everyone! God Bless Everyone and God Bless Our Military and First Responders!
And to Dad, I understand now more than ever. I don’t think your anger was directed to me or momma. I miss you and I’m very sorry for ever misunderstanding how life can suck at times. RIP Daddy, you deserve it so much!
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