As I had a conversation with my nephew today, I started thinking about patterns. Primarily patterns we make in our lives that our parents made and we as their children repeat ourselves.
Anyone who knows about my childhood, knows that my mother was sick and not able to care for me beyond the age of five. Fortunately for me, other people in my life stepped in to fill in for my mother’s lacking. My father was in the picture, but often times he was out working, so he was not around much. My mom’s mom, my grandmother Janet was one of the people that stepped up to help my dad out between my mom’s many hospitalizations. Additionally, as I grew older other people also where helpful during my growing up namely my Aunt Brenda. She took me over weekends and during some holidays.
Eventually, when I was around 12 years old my dad and mom divorced after many years of being separated. My dad had already started a new relationship and was living in a different state by the time the proceedings finally went through.
My dad and the lady who I called my step-mom, Gloria (but they where never married in the nearly 20 years they where together, until she died) lived all together with her children and myself roughly about six months when my dad decided to send me to live with my Aunt Brenda and Uncle Bob.
I lived with my aunt and uncle from the age of 12, in the 6th grade until I was 15 and in the 9th grade. During the time I lived with them, my father never paid child support or helped with my care financially. He did send cards, letters and gifts (when appropriate) and we did talk on the phone, but he essentially pawned me off on someone else because it was convenient for him. My step mom and I didn’t get along and when we lived together we constantly where bickering about something or another. I believe that because my dad wanted to have a “peaceful” home without the bother of his teenage daughter around, he sent me away.
Later on, when I was sent to go live back with my dad (because I was messing up in school and doing dumb shit) my dad had me for one school year (10th grade). Then over the summer between my sophomore and junior year he decided he wanted to have a “peaceful” home again and he sent me to live at a youth facility. This time he had to pay money towards my care, because the facility makes you pay according to a sliding scale based on your salary (but even then he didn’t pay much).
This backstory is helpful because the situation of my nephew and his father (my half brother) is similar to mine and my fathers. My brother was married to a woman and they had a child. Eventually the marriage didn’t work out for whatever reason (I don’t know the details) and the mother eventually moved to another state bringing the child with her. My brother, since the marriage broke up has not supported his son, does not visit and has had very little to do with his eldest child (he has 3 other kids from other women). His son, my nephew have been friends on facebook for some time, but we didn’t really talk much, this changed today.
My nephew confided in me that he really didn’t know his father and he was fine without knowing him. I talked to him, telling him my situation with my own father and how my dad didn’t set a great example as to what a father was supposed to be. I am the youngest of my dad’s four kids (my half brother and sister have the same mother and I have another half sister that has a different mother). Sadly, of his children I am probably the one who had my dad around the most, which isn’t saying much.
My brother seems to have repeated the same things with his own children, he doesn’t see them much and isn’t providing much support (financial or otherwise) to his children. His two oldest are with their mothers and the last two with his current wife have been adopted out to another family. It seems that the thing that these men know (or have picked up) is how to make children, then dip out on them. It’s just sad to me that these kids don’t know their father.
That said, I really don’t talk to my brother. He and I are barely acquainted, other then the fact that we share a father. Besides sharing a genetic tie we have very little in common and he really doesn’t know me. Additionally, we also live almost 2,000 miles apart from each other so that does not help either.
My dad is different story, as I have gotten older I have gotten closer to my father. I have found it ironic that we are closer now especially when I’m old enough not to need a father figure. Now my father lives alone and is almost 71 years old. He is not in the best of health and he has reached out to me, wants to live with me or near me because he does not like being alone. I find it strange that after all of these years of him not needing me, or wanting me around, now he wants to be closer to me. Honestly, I’m not even sure how I feel about it. With the help of a therapist, I was able to get over my anger and resentment that I carried against him and my step-mom for years. Now the only thing I really feel for him is pity and sadness at how things have gone. Mostly, he is still estranged from his other adult children and does not communicate with them much, if at all.
Thinking back about some areas of my childhood, I realize that in some areas he did the best he could, given his circumstances, lack of education and resources. I also realize that raising children isn’t easy and we don’t come with some kind of handbook, you just have to figure it out as time goes on.
All of this said, my nephew said something that struck a chord with me, I was telling him about my experiences he said that even if his father’s dad was not a great role model of what a dad should be, wouldn’t that make you want to be a better dad? I would like to hope that as an adult you see the mistakes that your own parents made and try not to do the same things, fall into the same patterns, etc.
For me, I believe I will try my hardest to not be like my parents where when I have kids. I don’t want my children to experience one tenth of what I went through. I want them to understand how loved and wanted they are/where. Being gay, I have to jump through extra hoops and I can’t just have and “oopsy” baby. I have to plan for children and do whatever it takes to have them when I’m ready to do so.
Here’s to breaking the pattern and the crappy cycles I was born with and to new beginnings.
~D~
AwesomeDawn 