Today marks twelve years since my Dad passed away at the young age of only 66. I was such a Daddy’s Girl when I was little. I was even named after my Dad. We have the same middle names, just different spellings. I thought that my Dad was such a great person, and that he could do no wrong.
As my younger sister and I grew up, I was sad quite a bit since my Dad wasn’t around very much. My Dad was a pipe fitter/welder and during the 70’s he traveled all over the country following one construction job after another. He was only home maybe a week or two and then he would be off to another job for three of four months. I realized later in life that a lot of his being gone & traveling had to do with my Mother not really wanting him around because of their marital issues.
By the time that I was about 10, my parents had divorced. My Dad moved 2 hours away, to Houston. My sister & I had very little interaction with him from then on. He rarely called or sent cards for birthdays or Christmas. My Mom raised us on her own, even supporting us by herself when my Dad decided to stop paying his $100 a month child support for three years – and that $100 was for BOTH of us! It hurt me deeply to feel that I wasn’t even worth $12.50 a week to him, in order to keep food in my mouth & clothes on my back. That is not how a young teen girl should be feeling about her father.
But, such is life. We grow up, forgive and forget and move on with our lives. I did try to bring my Dad back in to my life once I was married, after my daughter was born, but he never really seemed to be very interested. After a couple of years of basically beating my head against a brick wall, I just gave up.
It’s really too bad that he chose not to get to know his oldest granddaughter and his only grandson and the awesome people that they have become.
Anyway, he’s to you Dad. I still think of you often & wish that you would have wanted to spend more time with me when you had the chance to.
Jimmy (4/16/37 – 9/20/03)