Sunday, September 6, 2015

The Death of Father's Day

Yesterday was Father's Day.  It would have to have been the lowest point I have felt in a while.

I have two teenage/adult children.  This is the first Father's Day with neither of them living at home.  The days of your children rushing in to wish you a happy day now distant memories that inflict a pain in the chest and a feeling of loss when recalled.

Did either of them phone me?  No.  I blame social media and the impersonal contact that came via facebook.  A short line from one, and eventually another line from the other.  While some could argue that it was the sentiment communicated, it was to me cold and impersonal.  Neither of my children live in another state or country, so the cost to phone their father would not have been costly.

The other party to blame would have to be my wife.  She did nothing to coordinate with the children to undertake an activity for Father's Day.  This hurts as well.

So no cards, no gifts, no family gathering.  (Though gifts are coming.)

When does a person who gives so much for his family, doing their thinking, planning and assisting get to the point of not caring for others?  It won't happen with me, because no matter how badly I'm treated I still care for my family, for better or for worse.  I keep being told to not take ownership of issues that are not mine, to let them go.  Easy for a therapist to postulate words.

One day my children are going to look around and wonder how they will cope when the person they relied upon is gone.  As a person who suffers from mental illness it doesn't take much to send me to the pits of despair, and if it happens often enough and the right trigger happens, then I won't be here.

So if you have a father, I hope you phoned him on Father's Day, spoke to him and told him how much you appreciated him - because one day he will not be around to offer comfort and words of support.

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