It wasn’t the alcohol or the abuse that finally severed the ties between Alan Bishop and his father. It was father’s inability to answer the question why.
My dad coached baseball, soccer and did stints as the President of both of the local community associations. He made a tin robot every Halloween to light fireworks off to enthrall the kids from the neighborhood at our annual Halloween fright night extravaganza. He took us to Disneyland and Hawaii on vacations. And he was an asshole.
He did all of this before my 10th birthday. But I don’t have those memories because he did it for himself. Not me. My dad went out of his way to look like an amazing dad to those on the outside. It must have been important to him that others saw him in this way. He was never able to explain it to me.
Three days before my 10th birthday I found out my parents were getting a divorce. I’m not sure how I found out but I know it was right before my birthday. I came to understand — if any 10-year-old can understand — that my parents were getting a divorce because my dad had an affair. Coincidentally, his affair was with a woman who also did stints in the local community sports associations. Over the next 5 years I would end up going back and forth between my parents’ houses, not because of some joint custody arrangement but mostly because neither one of them really cared where I ended up.
Before anyone clicks away I want to ensure you this isn’t a “Cry for Help.” I’ve dealt with the stuff around my parents. This is more about who I have come to be rather than who I wanted them to be.
The thing about my dad is that he’s selfish. He’s an alcoholic. He and his woman abused me. He may not have struck a blow or said as many of the nasty words but he stood by and allowed it to happen. He was a partner in crime even if he would never admit it.
My memories are things like hiding under a chair that my mom was sitting on while he came towards me with a belt before they divorced. The screams of anger and hate coming from him and his new wife when the two of them would get into that early evening fight after a full day of drinking (she was also an alcoholic). The deathly quiet of the morning reverberating through the house when the carnage of the night before was realized in their now sober state.
My final straw was my memory at 15-years-old. It’s the memory of seeing his second wife bite her own tongue and then the feeling of her blood hitting my cheek as she spat in my face. She did this because she wanted the police to have a reason to take my dad to jail because he had passed out and wasn’t sober enough to continue playing their familiar game any longer.
These memories impacted me.
When I became a dad so did the questions. At this point I still had a relationship with my dad but it was nothing more than Christmas presents and birthday cards sprinkled with the occasional game of golf. It wasn’t deep. I was also 3 years into what has proved to be the love relationship of my life. My wife had an amazing dad who loved her unconditionally. I saw things in their relationship that coupled with my new experiences as a dad shook me to my core. I couldn’t comprehend or even begin to understand how a dad could expose his child to the things and experiences that my dad exposed me to. I couldn’t understand.
So I meditated. I sought council. I worked out. I cried…but I still couldn’t understand. So I asked him.
The first time I asked my dad the why questions was in 1997 and he told me to suck it up. He said my stepbrothers got over it, moved on and so should I.
The second time I asked my dad the why questions was a couple years later. I remember him refusing to look me in the eye when he told me he didn’t have the skills like men do today. He said it was a dark time for him.
The third time I asked my dad the why question was in 2004. I was 35 years old and my sons were 12 and 9. We hadn’t been really talking for a couple of years and my boys didn’t have any type of relationship with him or his woman. This time I only asked him one question. I asked him why should I let him have a relationship with my sons. His answer was that he was my father. It was the last time I spoke to my dad.
This isn’t entirely true. The last time I ran into my dad it was actually in my own community. I was cheering on my youngest son and his teammates at a local youth triathlon. My dad was there too, apparently cheering on his grandson —my stepbrother’s son. As my son walked off the podium after receiving his medal a hand reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him away. As any good father would I immediately reacted and moved to protect him. It was then when my wife said “Hi Steve” and I realized who this man was. He smiled, made brief small talk and then walked away. I hadn’t said a word. I remember it feeling like an uncomfortable moment when you see your mailman in the grocery store and don’t quite know what to say.
As I said near the beginning, I’ve worked through the pain of my youth and I’ve worked hard at being a dad. I love my boys and the gift that they have been to me. My goal with them has always been to be the best role model that I can be.
I’m not a saint. I make mistakes like any other man. I fall…but I get back up.
I try everyday to be the best that I can be. I know that one day when my boys talk to their kids and they start the sentence with about my dad…they can share the most magnificent memories and never have to ask me why.
—photo by crabchick/Flickr
This was such a raw beautiful post Alan. Thank you for being vulnerable.I can’t imagine what your childhood was like but Im so sad that you had to experience life that way. From the very short time Ive known you, you definitely jam packed the rest of your life in and have done incredible things any parent would be proud of. Your sons should feel incredibly lucky!!
Your passion and zest for life is contagious!
Hi Lis,
Everyone has a different past that can either be used as a way to propel them forward or hold them back. It’s definitely up to the individual. I simply made a choice to let it make me better. It was a challenge at times but anything worth doing is usually a bit of challenge.
Thanks very much for your kind words and support. I’m very lucky to have 2 amazing sons who I cherish.
Cheers to life.
Alan
How easy it is to judge someone from your sandbox. I also had an alcoholic father but he was a self destructive alcoholic. At least thats what I labeled him. He was only self destructive to himself and very apologetic and weak towards us. He was like an injured child, lost and crying for help. Despite that description he did alot of damage to me and only now in my early 50’s do I see it. I am a compulsive worrier, and a complete pesimist. And all this damage from an alcoholic that was not agressive, abusive or violent. I… Read more »
Hi Marlen, See my above reply to Leia and thanks for your kind thoughts. I am sorry you had to go through what you did. I wrote this piece because I wanted to entice and engage in discussions about our fathers. My belief is that most men would love to be heroes to their sons. That just wasn’t my case. I try everyday to be a HERO to my sons. As @anotherdad has pointed out “your dad did try”. Well, I’ll leave that up to him to have that opinion but in my world he really wasn’t much of a… Read more »
@Alan: As an adult, you can choose who you want to be your family members….I am sorry you had to suffer so much from that childhood hell trap…. Alcoholic narcissists don’t deserve more attention from their entrapped family members if it just feeds the fires of enabling….sometimes moving on and knowing that there is nothing else you can do to change someone, except by walking away, is the best path to take….I know too much about wasting my time with an abusive alcoholic (actually, in retrospect, walking away from him was the best for him—he finally got his career in… Read more »
Leia, Thanks for the comment. What we learn from, can make us stronger. That was the case for me. I made the decision at 15 years old to leave that abusive environment after the spitting incident. I removed myself from that home and started my life as an adult that day. The next 4 years of my life before I joined the military would prove be very interesting as I made some good decisions and some bad ones (thankfully more good than bad). My years living with my dad and his wife were horrific. No child should be exposed or… Read more »
@Thomas Pluck, sorry to hear your story and that you carry regret over not reconciling with your father. I disagree with your statement, though, “It is not up to you to forgive but for him to seek forgiveness.” It is up to each of us to forgive, because forgiveness is for us, not for the object of our forgiveness. Unfortunately in your story, you regret not reconciling, but it sounds like you were waiting for him to ask for your forgiveness. That would have been nice, but it didn’t happen. I suspect this hurts you deeply…the waiting and now the… Read more »
And I know I can’t imagine YOUR pain or your story. I’ve had my own struggles with pain and forgiveness, I’ve learned what works for me. I’ve learned about what people much wiser than me say about forgiveness, and it is still a struggle. Life can really suck, but it is our reactions to it that make us strong or make us suffer. I believe forgiveness is for the strong.
Strong and brave words, Alan. It is not up to you to forgive but for him to seek forgiveness. I also dealt with an alcoholic; addicts of any sort seem unable to accept responsibility for how they have hurt others, which is why the “steps” involve asking forgiveness for those they have wronged. Because they want to forget it, and to move on, they cannot. “Get over it” is enough to put me on the edge of a violent outburst because the words are so incredibly callous and self-centered. No one knows what you went through. It may not be… Read more »
Thomas,
It was a moment for sure when I heard those “get over it” words.
It’s never been about a last word for me. I’ve had peace for a long time now.
I’m excited that the post is connecting on many different levels as that was its goal. Like you said my story isn’t unique but it is one that others can relate to. If it helps someone make a bit of forward movement in their life I am happy.
Thanks for taking the time to comment.
Alan
Thank you for your brave words. I haven’t spoken with my father in 23 years, and a lot of what you spoke on in your story rang true to be. Even brought up some of my own ghosts that I have been dealing with my whole life. Just wanted to say that I relate, and I understand. The other poster mentions consideration, and where is it in your life. I say it is not that easy. So, just wanted to say I appreciate your resolve and ability to move on with your life, and give your boys a fighting chance… Read more »
Adrian,
Thanks for speaking your truth.
I believe our stories – the things we believe to be true, are a direct reflection to the words WE put on the page. No one else can write our life stories for us. We have the pen and the paper with which to write on. Our narrative can always change because nothing is pre-written.
I hope one day you too get the chance to write the story of what your life will be like as a Dad.
A.
“I’m not a saint. I make mistakes like any other man. I fall…but I get back up. ” Why don’t you afford your Dad the same consideration? From your story, it sounds like he was present, he tried, he made mistakes, he was human. He is still your Dad. Your story sounds like you are self-centered and victimized. Maybe your Dad’s mistakes weren’t about you, maybe they were about his own struggles, the same ones we all have. I hope you can find compassion within yourself and forge a relationship with your Dad, even if he continues to make mistakes.… Read more »
Hi Another Dad,
I appreciate your comment. I agree with you that in any relationship we can always give our best. Our best is in our control and ours alone.
I’m content and have taken great learning forward from my past. When you say “You don’t have to have a good Dad to be a good son”, I challenge you to think on that statement.
It’s my belief that we earn those rights – good son or good dad. No one is entitled to a relationship.
A.
I can’t feel your pain, I haven’t walked in your shoes, I’m sure from this article I can’t see the whole picture that is the relationship with your dad. What I do see in this article is a man who accepts his own humanity and failings, yet not his father’s. I see a man who pushes his father away because he is not loved like he wants to be or his expectations aren’t met. I see a man with a lot of pain and little forgiveness. I stand by my statement. It doesn’t mean that you have to continue in… Read more »
Another Dad,
I am startled and shocked that you have the nerve to chastise Alan for removing a raging alcoholic from his life and the life of his sons. Either you don’t have any experience with unrepentant alcoholics, or worse, you think they are safe people to be around. Frankly, I’m a little embarrassed for you.
I guess I missed the part where he said his dad was a “raging” alcoholic. I admit I’m not exactly clear on the level of abuse, he says his dad never struck him or used “nasty” words, but allowed it to happen? Maybe I didn’t read enough into his words, maybe I missed that point. I also don’t think I chastised anyone.
I never said anyone should put up with abusive behavior. I attempted to make a point about forgiveness. And I hear you saying that someone who struggles with addiction doesn’t deserve forgiveness.
I just feel you went in with an “I know better” attitude into someone else’s personal place of pain. That’s my take on it.
Maybe so, good point. My apologies if I offended.
@anotherdad I was not offended at all. Each is entitled to their own opinion and discussion. I think a topic like this is ripe for positive open discussion and I’m glad both you and Mark (and others) are involved in the discussion.