Papa (Is) a Rolling Stone

       Father-daughter relationships are special. Your father is supposed to give you insight into male behavior and shield you from harm. In modern society, this doesn't happen regularly. What has happened to fathers?



       My father was 21 when I was born and in the Army. He expected that he and my mother would get married. My mother declined, which was best since they are so ill suited for each other. I met him when I was 5 years old. Even upon meeting him, he spoke mostly about me changing my last name. I told him no. I saw him sparsely throughout the following years. He'd even told people I wasn't his child. This lie caught up with him when he was working with a friend of my mother's and didn't know it. My mother wasn't amused. He ping ponged in and out of my life when he wanted to impress a current girlfriend. He also would favor their children over me. At 12, I decided to stop seeing him after he put me in a car and yelled at me until I cried. He reached out again when I was 15. He immediately began talking about my newborn brother instead of trying to repair our relationship. I was done, or so I thought.



       About a month after my high school graduation, my father popped up over my house. My reaction to him was cold. He and I went to his father's grave. He told me he wanted to establish a relationship. I told him bluntly that if he disrespected me or mistreated me, I wanted him to lose my phone number. He agreed.


 
      From ages 18-24, we were on decent terms, but we frequently had disagreements because my father doesn't like to be held accountable or to deal with people who don't share his opinions. He won't agree to disagree. When he and my stepmom split, he was angry that I wouldn't stop communicating with her. He even accused me of telling people that  they were divorcing. I hadn't. He began leaving rude voicemail messages, which I ignored.


 
      The week of my 25th birthday, he called me at my job and screamed at me over the work phone and hung up in my face. He wanted to know why I hadn't called him. I was seething. I promised to call when I was out at work. Boy, did I. I shredded him. I told him how disrespectful he'd been to me my entire life and how disrespectfully he'd treated my siblings. I told him that I was done with his childishness. I let him have it when he tried to interrupt me. He'd interrupted my life enough. I told him never to call me again. This time, I hung up.


     I occasionally saw him at church. It bothered me how he pretended to be a decent person and falsely represented himself to the others that attend our church. They don't know that he's been married 5 times, that he barely supports my 4 other siblings, and that he is frequently unfaithful in relationships. He now resides in Hawaii, lying and impregnating other women, I'm sure. His service to this great nation is the only place that he hasn't failed as a man.


     This story has a  happy beginning and ending. I was raised by my maternal grandfather, who taught me what a father should be. When I had chicken pox, he went to my school and picked up my work to keep me from being behind. He comforted me and let my tears soak his shoulder after my first heartbreak. My actual father saw an ex that I'd almost gotten engaged to and told him he accepted his new life. My grandfather, taught me things, like the importance of self worth and independence. He never let me slide with subpar grades. I owe my work ethic, inner strength, and faith in God to him.


    Though my actual father failed me, I have a good example of what a father is. My grandfather was the first to hold me when I was born and that's when our bond started. Sometimes the relationships you need and hold dear don't come in the form you thought they would, but that doesn't make them any less valuable.