Father’s Day is complicated for me personally and it’s not a day I enjoy.
My father has two distinct personalities. At times he can be loving, funny, and caring. The other personality he embraces is cruel, mean, and destructive. I have seen both in my life although for the last 18 years, it has primarily been the cruel, mean, dishonest and destructive side of him.
It’s easy to say that the problems started the night I told him and my mother that I had been molested. He used to talk to my three times a week after moving to Saskatoon. Then he just stopped talking to me for months. Not a call, email, or letter. Nothing. It was like he no longer had a daughter. That being said, my mother went silent at the same time. It was really tough to take.
From there it go worse. He started to lie about thing and then he would defend his right to lie. Then he would be upset when I no longer trusted him. He would scream that he wished I had never been born. He would go on about how I wasn’t part of his family.
Later when Mark was two, he saw Mark for the first time. He then told me he didn’t want a relationship with me or Mark because he had other grandkids and didn’t need another one. He then stopped talking to me for almost a decade. He’s seen Mark twice, never met Oliver. He didn’t even know how old the kids were.
Recently he blamed me for being molested, backtracked on it when I called him on it, then said it again.
In the end, things will never get better between us because he has never done anything wrong and it is my fault.
Why is he like that. We have never been able to have that conversation. There is a lot of research and writing on Guyana where he grew up that shows that as a country, that are ambivalent and hostile to women who are sexually assaulted and are victims of sexual violence. My mother told me that she was taught (and would teach me) that it was the women’s fault when she is raped for dressing too provocatively and “inviting it”. Which when you look at my parents reaction, that is exactly what their reaction was. Its up to me to make amends for being repeatedly sexually assaulted.
If anything, I wish he would be honest with others about how he feels about me. It is really hard to hear his b.s. and then get lectured by someone from the church I grew up in about how much it hurts him that I don’t ever come back home or how horrible of daughter I am. Many people have told me that they pray that I can find the strength to leave Jordon and come back home. He’s always the victim and I am the one at fault.
In the end I take it out on Jordon on Father’s Day. He is sick with the growing infection in his ankle. He came home from work yesterday in a lot of pain, went to lay down exhausted and I kind of freaked out. Twice when he has been hospitalized he sent me home from the E.R. because I get emotional and start picking fights with him when he is sick. I did it again last night and then today. Of course I never get him anything for Father’s Day or do anything other than threaten to leave on Father’s Day.
Today instead of letting Jordon sleep in, I woke up and picked a fight largely because the idea of him having his leg amputated scares me. To his credit, Jordon just went back to sleep but then I was an ass all day to him. Instead of doing something special, Mark and I just wandered around in a bad mood until finally Jordon kicked all of us out of the house and made us go for dinner without him. It was that kind of day.
So yeah, I really hate Father’s Day.