Yesterday, I talked about my dad’s past, how little I know, and how that affects me now. However, I didn’t talk about the people who did know my dad. I didn’t talk about my half siblings.
There are my 5 of them. They’ve mostly lived away from me. They are all quite a bit older than I am. They range from 30 years to 8 years older than I am at least. I don’t know for sure. This goes to show how well I know them all.
One of them I didn’t even get to meet till last fall when we all were together for the first time ever. She is a sweetheart. They are all wonderful people. My heart aches because of how little I know them all. They are all great people whom I wish I knew better.
Unfortunately, the phone line goes both ways and I have most of their numbers and never call.
So I am more to blame than they are for not knowing them.
They had the same dad as I did. But the person he was to them, is not the person he was to me. (This truth cuts me to the core.)
I sat up late with one of them and told him about the man I knew as my dad and he told me of the same man. I can hardly believe my dad could treat anyone so horribly.
He abused them.
It kills me to know I was raised so differently.
It makes me feel responsible. That night, my half brother told me I’m not responsible. But I still feel like I am.
I can see why my dad was who he was. He didn’t have a good relationship with his dad. He told me my whole life that his dad said, “I love you.” only one time in my dad’s whole life. My dad never recovered from that. He took it out on his children.
My dad carried the pain his dad left him with and never dealt with it. I know that because I can see how it still affected him through my life and to the end of his life.
I’m not going to carry that pain.
I’m making changes and pulling the plug.
The pain stops here.
What pain do you carry from your father and your father’s father?
How are you stopping it from rolling down hill to your children?
Where the buck stops,