Father’s Day when you’re estranged from your dad. Photo courtesy of Ilonka Michelle O’Neil.
Father’s Day When You’re Estranged From Your Dad
By Ilonka Michelle O’Neil, Special to www.JenniferMargulis.net
My father isn’t dead but our relationship seems to be. Thanks, Facebook. The last time I heard from him, he told me to go forward as if he were dead. A reverse “You’re dead to me.” That’s where we left it.
My father is an alcoholic. He was abused as a child, married at 17, fathered five children, and walked out on the family when the youngest, twins, were two years old.
He wasn’t a pedophile, per se. But he was overly sexually charged.
He ogled.
He also spied on me as a teen while I was getting dressed.
After I discovered this, I had to hide between my bed and the wall, in a place he couldn’t see me, to change my clothes.
He was intrigued by any female form. He loved his Playboy magazines. My father didn’t hold back using profanity regarding women’s bodies around his daughters.
My young ears heard lots of talk of “tits” and “asses” and “pussies” growing up. My father and I spent many years estranged and I worked hard on my own healing.
Part of that healing included writing a memoir about my childhood. In my book, I told the story of my childhood, a story that still caused me shame. One of the reasons I wrote it was to absolve the child I was of carrying blame for things she couldn’t control.
Eventually, through my own spiritual practice, I would get to a place of forgiveness for my father. I found myself wishing I could go back in time, to his childhood, to love and protect him. I sat on the book for a couple of years.
I didn’t want to hurt this already wounded person further. Plus, I was scared. It’s a lot to put out there. It’s so personal. After about a dozen years of estrangement, I began to let my father in, just a little.
I saw him at a family celebration and he asked if he could send my children birthday and Christmas cards.
It was a start.
We had a cordial, light, surface relationship. Maybe we could build something. And then he joined Facebook. I have a good old time on Facebook. We’ve moved a lot and I love how it allows me to keep in touch with people in so many places.
But when my father reached out to “friend” me, my whole body recoiled.
Visions of him spying on me.
Visions of him trolling my FB feed and my pictures (and photos of my adolescent daughter).
The thought made me ill.
Ignoring this necessary boundary would be bad for me physically and emotionally.
I told him I couldn’t accept his FB friend request. I was honest about why.
Come with me into a dream. This is what a real healed father would do under these circumstances.
He’d say, “I am so sorry for the things I did decades ago. Even if I don’t remember them, because I was always drunk…I know you’ve been burdened with the memories. I am so sorry for ever making you uncomfortable. I will do anything and everything in my power to respect your boundaries, and I won’t give up. Your feelings matter to me.”
Of course, he isn’t healed.
And that’s not what happened.
His response was swift and final. It came in all caps.
(There were times as a child I wished him dead to stop my own suffering. There were times as an adult I wished him dead, to end HIS suffering).
I GUESS NOTHING HAS CHANGED. THIS IS THE LAST YOU WILL BE HEARING FROM ME. I LOVE YOU DEARLY BUT I JUST CAN’T HANDLE ANYMORE OF THIS. YOU WISHED ME DEAD AT LEAST TWICE SO MAYBE IT’S BETTER FOR YOU IF YOU JUST PRETEND THAT I AM. I WAS NOT A GOOD FATHER OR GOOD HUSBAND BUT I AM NOT THE DEMON YOU HAVE LODGED IN YOUR HEAD.
It was as if we had a tiny sapling growing and he mowed right over it.
My father never did know how to treat anything precious to him.
He immediately shut down his Facebook account. Energetically, I could feel his hurt. And it pained me that my rejection hurt him.
While there were times in my life I had been filled with anger toward him, there was no longer any part of me that wished him harm.
And this is going to sound strange, but I liked that he said he is not “the demon I have lodged in my head.” Because I don’t think he is a demon.
I think he is wounded and sick. I love that there is a part of him that knows he is good, despite everything.
But I am a grown woman.
I am a mother.
I am good at boundaries.
It’s a muscle I developed because I had to. And refusing his FB friend request was a choice I needed to make for my own well-being. So was, eventually, publishing my memoir.
I published my book in 2011. I weighed the possibility of protecting him from himself, against the potential benefit to others who might read and be inspired by my story.
I did not put it out in the world with malice toward my father.
I did hope people reading it would give kids from broken and dysfunctional families a little more benefit of the doubt and treat them more kindly.
Lest you fear the book is so heartbreaking it traumatizes the reader, it isn’t. I’ve had a lot of feedback from readers saying they didn’t expect it to be so funny. Most say they came away from the book feeling inspired, not depressed or horrified.
My father read the book. He hated it. He said it was full of lies and inaccuracies. My mother, who doesn’t come out smelling like roses in the book, read it.
She supported me and said every word is true.
Today I feel almost no energetic charge regarding my father.
I feel like our sacred contract has ended. I’ve learned what I am going to learn from him. He has learned all he can from me. I have compassion, but I do not feel emotionally entangled anymore.
Or, maybe I’m in denial, because here I am writing about him once again.
On Father’s Day, we will honor my husband.
He is a wonderful father. He works hard. He sacrifices for our kids. He shows up every time, providing us with everything we need (and almost anything we could want).
His steady and unwavering love for me has healed so many of my childhood wounds. I’ve been with him longer now than I ever lived with my father.
A friend, who is an intuitive, told me my father, on a soul level, decided to come here, so that me and my siblings and our children could come into the world. She said his soul knew it would be hard, being abused and neglected and suffering from addiction, but he did it for us, for the sake of infinite expansion.
I liked this.
My father’s alcoholism made him anything but honorable in my eyes.
But if I look at it from my friend’s perspective, I can see him as a brave and noble soul indeed.
If I choose this to be true, I can be proud of him. I can scroll through all the beautiful Facebook messages this Father’s Day and feel grateful for my own dad.
About the Author: Ilonka Michelle O’Neil is author of the memoir Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar. She is a former radio news reporter and her pieces have been featured during NPR’s Morning Edition on WAMU in Washington DC. She’s contributed to A Cup of Comfort for Parents of Children with Autism, and Special Gifts: Women Writers on the Heartache, the Happiness and the Hope of Raising a Special Needs Child. She has written for Literary Mama, The Imperfect Parent, Age of Autism, Cool Cleveland, The Bark, and many other publications. She’s a registered nurse, and is also a trauma informed yoga teacher in South Florida.
Love the infinite expansion theory. I buy it. Glad you came into this world, and that you share your light, wisdom and humor with us.
Thank you for your words that tug on my heart strings and tease out subtle emotions and old feelings. This bit right here: “A friend, who is an intuitive, told me my father, on a soul level, decided to come here, so that me and my siblings and our children could come into the world. She said his soul knew it would be hard, being abused and neglected and suffering from addiction, but he did it for us, for the sake of infinite expansion..” is golden. It helps me with the feelings of deep disappointment I have held onto for one of my children’s father. It helps me to accept him for who he is. Not who I “wish” he would’ve been to my daughter.
Thank you! I never knew my father while growing up; he left my mom before I was born. Missed him terribly during my teens, daydreaming every day that he would show up at my school and “save” me from my strict and overwhelming grandmother who was raising me.
Finally met him when I was 25 and had a 2-year old daughter of my own. I had high hopes of building a “real” relationship with my dad, but it never happened.
This “transmission” was received (channeled) for me, and it helped a lot in healing my abandonment/rejection issues that plagued me for most of my life… Maybe you or someone else can relate to these words, which is why I share them:
from Dad
SHIPS IN THE NIGHT July 18 06
It seems to me
you’d like to know
more about
what I have to say to you
and yet
I have to begin
with more
about what I am
Life comes
so unexpectedly sometimes
so full of surprises
that leave you feeling
its too late
to do anything
too far away
to reach
and so you keep your gaze
on what lies in front of you
you do your best
with what you have
at hand
In this sense
there was a practicality
to my nature
for like you
I was a survivor of sorts
someone who knew
the limits of what I could bear
and preferred to keep things
in a manageable place
where nothing too much
would overcome me
where things were recognizable
contained
in a familiar shape
or plan
And so
had I known
had I actually known you
as a child
I suppose it all
would have been so different then
you would have been
a part of the shape
of my world
you would have been
a place where my heart went
to live
and in that sense
you would have been part
of my growing up
too
But it never works
does it
to go back and say
what if
though the truth is
I have often wondered
about an emptiness I knew
wondered
if it was you calling me
all along
But don’t mistake me
I was not one
to spend my days
in self-analysis
or even worry really
I kept all that kind of thing
at bay
and it was a blessing
perhaps
for I had all the life
I could handle
at the time
I was
in so many ways
a simple man
just a man
with all the beliefs
that men have
about what is important
what is worthy
of their attention
and their time
And so I can’t help but wonder too
what you would have done with me
if you had had me around
if I had been there
to get in your way
to give you my limitations
to share
to be human
and fallible
in all the ways
that were mine
But then again
what is there to know
except what we know now
that when I look at you
through my dreams
I see someone very like me
perhaps more like me
than your mother
someone tall and lean
and proud in a way
someone able to work
and to focus
and to try hard to do her best
in every moment
even when life becomes too much
even when she wonders
if she has done something
terribly wrong
And perhaps
that is what I want to say to you today
to remind you of something
I know you know
which is that whatever choices you make
have made in this life
whatever turns you have taken
for whatever reason
don’t look back with regret
or shame
We cannot help but wonder
or examine our pasts
but when we do
let us try to do it
from a place of tolerance
of recognition
that we simply are who we are
and surely it’s all for a reason
surely
there is good
in every bad choice
we have made
Our lives can change
all in a moment
or two
things can be started
or ended
things can be finished
or left undone
and if each one of us
walks in our own footsteps
across the world
then we are bound to bump into
our futures
our destinies
don’t you think?
bound to return
to the places we’ve left behind
but only this time
see them clearly
see them true
Now I don’t pretend
to be a wise man
and I believe
you are humble
in the same way
though you are worlds beyond me
girl
worlds away
but if I could give you something
I would
if I could stand up here
like a father and say
this is my blessing
this is the touch
of my hand
What I would choose
is the knowledge
that even when two souls
seem to pass
like ships in the night
don’t ever underestimate
the power
of their connection
what began
in those first moments
when their lives entwined
because living next door
is no guarantee of love
nor is absence
any marker of a distance
between souls
I am proud of you
and the woman you’ve become
I am grateful to think
that you
and your children carry on
what was begun
between your mother and I
so very long ago
in a time of love
sure enough
as I remember it
a time as loving
as any
I have known
I have not been one
to speak of such things
it was not the way
of my world
but now I do
now I say
even my reserve
has fallen down
and I see
how we are a part
of our soul’s experience
of our traveling
days
And when you see
a certain sweetness
in yourself
beyond the boundaries
of all that you have been taught
about how to behave
when you find your way
to just being truthful
and that turns out to be
the loving part of you
go look in the mirror
right then
and I’ll be looking back at you
it will be my eyes
you will see
A kiss on the forehead
to you
to those girls
to that upstart of a boy
(don’t you think
he has my brains?)
my grandson indeed
So no more traveling needed
no more running away
You have the chance now
to do it all
where you stand
and remember me too
that way
(received via Cynthia Long/Adi Kanda)