Last week I visited my father for the first time in a while. If you have read my book, Death by Chocolate Cake, you will know that our relationship is not healthy. From as early as I can remember I have been afraid of his moods. Most of my adolescent memories are filled with his criticism of me. Always falling short of his expectations has left me with feelings of inferiority and rejection. I am certainly not his favourite child, and I have witnessed better treatment of others, so I do know he could be kinder.
Sadly, my visit was not any different from those in the past. Why should I have expected any different? At nearly 98, he is not about to change. I have spent much of my life trying to prove my worth to him and competing with my sisters for his attention, but his eyes cannot see what others see in me. I know I am not the only one in this boat. Like any child, I long for a loving relationship with my father, but it is not to be. Why did I visit him? Because, despite our poor relationship, I love him. I will always love him, and I will always hurt for him and for myself.
This was a sobering visit. I had hoped he would sense my love for him, but he has decided that I have not done as much as others to prove my love. Deep within me there has always been hope that this would change, but I guess at 98, it’s too late. My only hope is that his choices don’t make his last days more miserable than they need be.
Over the years I have learned that his treatment of me does not determine my response to him. Even though he treats me with indifference, I can still love him, because what I feel is MY love for him. Even though he treats me badly, I can still love him because love is my reason for living. In fact, this choice is less painful than the alternative of anger and bitterness. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of bitterness about the situation, mixed with jealousy and self-pity. But I have found that getting in touch with my real feelings has shown me how much I can love, and this love is healing.
In love, Jenny
