My dad was paranoid and delusional. He would have dreams that dead relatives were telling him that living relatives were conspiring against him, me included. He drowned in his suspicion, sued his own family, and interrogated me about made up madness before dropping dead of a heart attack that I have no doubt his stress contributed to.
When I was young, I hated him for being mean and insane, but then through my 20’s, I had several experiences on psychedelics that felt strongly like spiritual messages. Unlike my father, I never acted on them in any way that was conspiratorial or harmful to others, but I began to see his perspective in a new light. I understood a bit of his conviction to believe his visions—when it’s happening to you, it feels very real indeed.
When he died, I had no anger left, just sadness that we never had the opportunity to repair. I wrote him a note telling him I forgave him and apologized for the part I played in the distance between us. I slipped it into his suit pocket before they closed the casket, and I never saw him again.
Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to sit in silence with him and smoke a cigar (his favorite activity). I think we could have found healing through simply being in each other’s presence and enjoying an activity without words.
I have his nose. I have acquired some skills that he had too. He’s in me, and I try not to forget it. My mom acts like I was immaculately conceived and only connected to her side of the family, but as I get older, I find more of him in me all the time. I just try to remember where he went wrong so I don’t follow the same destructive path, but recognizing his reflection in my own life has brought me a lot of peace and understanding for how he acted in my childhood.
So what makes a good father? Hell if I know, but I think it probably starts with recognizing generational similarities and choosing a healthier path in hope that you can make your contribution to generational change.
And if your kid reaches out to you, it would really make them feel better if you reach back. I wish mine had.
I feel you.
My dad was paranoid and delusional. He would have dreams that dead relatives were telling him that living relatives were conspiring against him, me included. He drowned in his suspicion, sued his own family, and interrogated me about made up madness before dropping dead of a heart attack that I have no doubt his stress contributed to.
When I was young, I hated him for being mean and insane, but then through my 20’s, I had several experiences on psychedelics that felt strongly like spiritual messages. Unlike my father, I never acted on them in any way that was conspiratorial or harmful to others, but I began to see his perspective in a new light. I understood a bit of his conviction to believe his visions—when it’s happening to you, it feels very real indeed.
When he died, I had no anger left, just sadness that we never had the opportunity to repair. I wrote him a note telling him I forgave him and apologized for the part I played in the distance between us. I slipped it into his suit pocket before they closed the casket, and I never saw him again.
Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to sit in silence with him and smoke a cigar (his favorite activity). I think we could have found healing through simply being in each other’s presence and enjoying an activity without words.
I have his nose. I have acquired some skills that he had too. He’s in me, and I try not to forget it. My mom acts like I was immaculately conceived and only connected to her side of the family, but as I get older, I find more of him in me all the time. I just try to remember where he went wrong so I don’t follow the same destructive path, but recognizing his reflection in my own life has brought me a lot of peace and understanding for how he acted in my childhood.
So what makes a good father? Hell if I know, but I think it probably starts with recognizing generational similarities and choosing a healthier path in hope that you can make your contribution to generational change.
And if your kid reaches out to you, it would really make them feel better if you reach back. I wish mine had.