“Our fathers had their dreams: we have ours; the generation that follows will have its own. Without dreams and phantoms man cannot exist.” Olive Schreiner
I Miss What I Never Truly Had
My son, Lewis, top, taking time to enjoy his son, Scott, one of his four children. Scott, by the way, leaves for Marine boot camp tomorrow. Happy Father’s Day Lewis — and good luck Scott. — Photo by Pat Bean
My father died in 1975. He was only 62. As he lay in his bed, suffering from emphysema and a stroke, he pantomimed to me that he wanted a cigarette. I replied that the doctor told him he couldn’t smoke.’
He reached for the pad beside his bed and wrote: “To hell with the doctor!”
I gave him a cigarette and sat by his side as he smoked it. He then went to sleep.
Two hours later, when I got up from watching a television program with my mother, and went in to the bedroom to check on him, he was dead.
A few days later, as I sat at his funeral, and when no tears would come, I realized my father had never been there for me.
He was always gone to work before I woke in the morning, and didn’t get home until well after I was in bed. And this went on seven days a week. It wasn’t that my father worked long hours, it was that he played hard, drinking and gambling.
My son, D.C., left, with Jennifer and David, two of his three children, at Epcot. Happy Father’s Day. D.C. — Photo by Pat Bean
Many were the Friday nights that I listened to my hot-tempered mother scream and yell because my father had spent his pay check before coming home.
I was too young to understand the implications. So it was my mother I hated when I was growing up, instead of the person who was the reason why I went to school with holes in my shoes. It’s because my father was a happy person, even when drunk. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body. He was a true good-timing man.
I still remember the day my mother threw a beer bottle at my dad and knocked him unconscious. I thought he was dead. When he woke up, he just laughed about it, saying he deserved it.
I have no rancor toward my father, and thankfully my mother and I made our peace long before she died. But there is sadness in me that my father had so little time for me, and that he always stood me up when plans had been made.
But I’m truly glad I gave him that last cigarette.
Happy Father’s day Dad – wherever you are
Pat Bean's blog 
Thanks for this post, Pat. And for the reminder that I appreciate my father more and more as I recall and understand him better as I grow older.
My dad died when I was 8 so I really don’t remember having a father. My mom & dad ran the town grocery store so I do remember being with him around the store which, of course, we were required to work in even at a young age. My mom and I never got along and she died 20 years later, so I have spent most of my adult life without parents. So I adopted my own. Most of my “real” family is not biologically related to me, and I think all of us make our own families as we travel along in life.
For many years, I knew that if I were ever in trouble, it would be my friends I turned to, not my family. You’re so right that we can make our own families if ours aren’t there for us. It sounds like you and I were among the lucky ones who did so.
Great post. I’m glad you’ve come to a good place about it. Thinking of your dad is a way for him to be with you even now.
Thanks Elladee
I appreciate this post as I’m dealing with my own father issues. He’s still alive, but in terrible shape physically, financially, spiritually. There is a lot of anger and bitterness surrounding him and it is hard to know where it starts, or if it’ll ever end.
I’m really glad you made your peace with your mom, and judging from the relationships you share with your children and grandchildren you are doing it better than your parents. That’s a huge accomplishment.
Thanks. I made every mistake in the book raising my kids. Parenting shouldn’t come when we’re so young. But love was the one thing I gave them freely, and it’s makes me feel good all over to know that they take their roles as parents seriously. I hadn’t planned on writing the Father’s Day column. I had hardly thought about my dad at all since the day I attended his funeral. I think yesterday I finally forgave him — and it feels good. My heart’s there with you in dealing with your father, whether it is being there or not being there. Sometimes the later is the right answer. As much as we may want, we can’t solve someone else’s problems. Each of us has to take responsibility for our own lives, and that certainly includes your father. Hang in there and hang tough.
Wow, what a great story of love and redemption. I think we women always have some issues with our fathers. They are the fist men we love and we always compare other men to them, whether consciously or not. My father was less than perfect, and I could relate to your wish that yours had been with you more. My parents were divorced, so I only saw my father on visiting days. He had another family, and sometimes I felt so left out of his life. Thankfully, we, my father and my siblings – step and otherwise – all resolved all that before our father died a few years ago.
BTW, are we still on for my visit to the blog tomorrow?
Thanks Maryann. I’m so behind on my e-mail that I’m just reading this. As you know I goofed. Hope you forgive me.
What a poignant story about your father, Pat. I am happy you could forgive him
and your mother too.
I was happy to read about someone else making mistakes raising their children. I did and still they loved me-in fact those were the last words my oldest son spoke to me in his time on this earth. This year, my other, more tortured son…he admits having been a mama’s boy-and proudly so.
I am pleased to be able to still go off to visit my dad-and told him in person just yesterday…he is 89.
Thanks Nancilynn. I wonder if there is a parent alive who feels they did it right? And if they do, I wonder how their children feel about that.
Our job now is to help make sure no other little girls feel the way we did while growing up with absent fathers. Let’s hold the fathers we know accountable to their responsibilities, and also spend time letting them know how incredibly valuable they are to the well being of a child.
I think fathers today are more involved. I know my sons and son-in-laws are. Back in my days, fathers never changed diapers or babysat. It wasn’t expected of them. And as for being in the room when the mothers gave birth, that was unheard of. I think it’s changing because women are finally demanding parenting help. And that’s a good thing.
I have the best dad in the world. It took me a long time to appreciate him because he didn’t come into my life until I was already use to not having a dad. I love him like he his my very own, because he has always fought for me and tried to give me a better life. He loves my mother the way his father loved his, with total devotion. I am happy you shared this story. You only know about people, what they are willing to tell you. Sharing your story makes it impossible not to reflect on ones own life. Thank you.
Thanks for commenting Shanna. The truth is that sometimes I think my grandkids know more about me than my kids. I didn’t talk about my childhood with my kids. It hurt back then. But now it’s all coming back and I’m realizing things weren’t so bad after all. Love you Shanna. Nana