If dad was ever caught out lying for example, he would turn the tables on us and accuse us of ganging up against him. This would end in one of us taking a beating or being alienated.

When my children were born, he made a promise that they would never see what we had seen. Yes, the beatings stopped, but the manipulation continued. He would blame everyone but himself for his failings, usually Mum!

He left our lives repeatedly as we grew up, usually as a result of him beating Mum and her throwing him out or as the result of him taking on another woman.

Mum has moved on and started a new life abroad. Dad however has taken on yet another woman, with three children from her previous marriage and he has completely cut us off. He never calls or texts us and walks past us in the street as if he does not know us. It is highly embarrasing as we live in a small closeknit town.

He walks around without a care in the world while we cry inside. He creates profound lies as reasons for not visiting my home, claiming someone is going to poison him. Despite me telling him that is untrue, he has kept away. Is that normal?

Perhaps it’s the relative (no pun intended) proximity of the holiday, but my own father has been increasingly on my mind. He was extremely emotionally abusive to my family, a man seemingly born without empathy or compassion. Additionally, he knowingly cost our family every ounce of financial security, leaving us homeless when I was a teenager.

I strongly identify with your description of crippling distrust of the mundane, uncertainty and insecurity.

During my college years, I had a slow epiphany pretty much exactly like you described yours. I have been extremely grateful for the many blessings that my upbringing gave me–precisely what you so beautifully described. Put in a rudimentary form, I am who I am because of this, and that can only be a good thing. I agree with you wholeheartedly.

I have not seen my father for three years. In all honesty, I had hoped that our next encounter would include a coffin. Now, though, I am unsure. While able to forgive him, I have never had the desire to inform him of my forgiveness. (Or to have him in my life in any sort of way.) Now, though, I think I want him to know I forgive him.

Your post gives me pause, however. Is expressing forgiveness selfish or selfless? As you so eloquently stated, “what to me has evolved into a psychological ‘friendly ghost’ is his daily demon. It is an inner torment to which I cannot relate.” Wouldn’t being aware of forgiveness potentially intensify any feelings of guilt one might have? Have you had the opportunity to express your own forgiveness? If not, would you take it?

I love this post. You are amazing. And you deserve all the models you can get.

From a single mother in Cambridge,
-L

Your message brought tugs to the heart strings, tears to the eyes, and such pride in knowing you as a friend and surrogate son. How sad for you (and your father), that you have not been able to share in the development of the beautiful, caring, loving and successful man that you have become. Its similar to the situation I grew up in except that my father was there physically and never learned how to express his emotions. I don’t eve recall having had a ‘conversation’ with my father. At least I had the knowledge that he was there to keep us fed, clothed, warm and safe.

Anthony, I am so pleased that you are such a dear friend to my #3, and I’m sure that some of your values have ‘rubbed off’ on him. You are quite a pair!

I do hope you will get to visit us and our new home soon. I need to share a hug with you. And, you need to see your Franklin ‘home’.

Much love and many warm hugs, Mumcia