Why I had to Rebuild my Relationship with my Father

Summary

The author recounts the challenging journey of rebuilding a strained relationship with their father, culminating in living together and working towards a normal parent/child bond.

Abstract

The author describes a tumultuous relationship with their father, marked by absence, conflict, and minimal interaction during childhood. The father's alcoholism and drug use further complicated their connection. Despite these challenges, the author took a significant step towards reconciliation by moving their father into their home following a medical emergency, demonstrating their love and commitment to rebuilding their relationship, despite ongoing struggles and the need to build trust.

Opinions

The author initially had a contentious relationship with their father, with very little common ground.
The author's father was largely absent during their childhood, with the grandparents playing a significant role in their upbringing.
The father's substance abuse issues were a major barrier to a healthy relationship.
The author felt responsible for their younger siblings, which impacted their own childhood experiences.
The author's relationship with their father began to improve slightly during adolescence but remained strained into adulthood.
The author's father's kindness was often overshadowed by his tendency to use gestures to criticize the author's life choices.
The decision to take in the author's father after his accident reflects a deep sense of love and duty, despite the potential consequences of breaking their lease.
The author acknowledges the ongoing process of building trust and improving their relationship with their father, with both good and bad days.

We were not close at all, but now we live together.

Photo of my father and myself.

Many people have decent relationships with their parents. They love and trust their parents to guide and help them as they grow up. Most children gladly keep in contact with their parents even after they move out and start families of their own. They visit and have holidays together. I am not most people. My father and I had to work really hard to form a normal parent/child bond.

Growing up, I had an interesting relationship with my dad, to say the least. For much of my childhood, we refused to see eye to eye on anything at all. The only thing we could agree on what that chili should have beans. We were either fighting or he wasn’t around. When I was just a baby, my biological mom and dad had split up. My dad took me and we lived with his mom. My grandma was the person who took care of me. I have only a few memories of actually spending time with my dad. When my grandma passed away, my dad spent a little more time with me, but it was still not even close to the amount of time most parents spend with their kids. I spent much of my early childhood at my grandpa’s house. I would get dropped off before school started and taken back home after dinner. When Friday night came around, I would go to his house after school and get dropped off at home on Saturday night or even Sunday. Even after my dad had gotten married when I was 8, I still spent very little time at home. And when I was at home, my dad was usually at work or with his friends.

When I entered middle school things changed slightly. For the first half of 6th grade, I lived at my adoptive mom’s parents’ house. I got to go to a better school district while they found a house in the area. I was there Sunday night until Friday after school. Once my parents had moved to a house in the school district, we all moved back in together. But instead of things getting better, they just got worse. My dad was still not around much. I was babysitting my two baby brothers frequently. My adoptive mom would be angry and stressed and my father would take it out on me.

If we take a look into my home life as a teenager, it is quite different from most other children that age. At this point, I was babysitting all the time. During the summers, I was watching two toddlers for 12 or more hours a day 5 days a week. Even if my dad was home, I wouldn’t see him for more than a few hours a day if I was lucky. He practically lived in his garage, and then he literally lived out there. Most times I was around my dad it was because I needed a ride, it was mealtime, or I was being punished. He was not a kindly man. He was an alcoholic and was doing drugs. That left him little time to enjoy life and his children.

After I graduated high school and moved away, we hardly talked. Just phone calls on holidays and birthdays. The few times my dad and I met up, it was always stressful. He came to visit me once when I lived with one of my ex-boyfriends. Neither of us was on any government assistance and sometimes we didn’t have much food in the house. My dad took me to buy food. It was a very kind gesture, that he frequently reminded me of. Using it as a way to insult my ex, and make me feel bad that I had dated the guy. As time went on, I only saw my dad a few times a year. If he was calling me, it was either a holiday, or he needed money. There was one time, however, when my dad reached out and offered to take my boyfriend at the time to dinner. We had a very good night, but things went mostly back to our normal distant and strained relationship.

When I got together with my current boyfriend, we had moved within walking distance of my dad. We had walked over to his place a few times. When our car was working, we would drive over to him and stay awhile. It was the start of reforming our relationship. About a year and a half ago, I got a call from his landlady. My dad was not answering his phone, wouldn’t open his door, and there was blood at the bottom of his stairs. Although I was confused as to why she called me rather than an ambulance, my fiance and I rushed over to his place. My dad had fallen down his stairs the night before. My fiance helps him get back outside as I was on the phone with the paramedics. My fiance and I made the decision that my dad was no longer able to live 100% on his own due to his medical conditions as well as his drinking. We knew we couldn’t technically have him move in with us, but we did it anyway. We broke our lease by having an extra person living with us. We took him in because I have always loved my dad.

Today we are still building our relationship. We have bad days where we yell and slam our doors. We have great days where I sit and listen to him talk for hours. Most days are calm, other than my tiny humans running around. My dad is back in my life, and he gets to embrace his role as grandpa, as long as we maintain building trust.