I didn't talk to my dad for seven years. This began a few months after I moved out of his house. It was because the few times I did talk to him in that period were so destructive and hurtful emotionally for me that it took at least a week after each for me to recover. Later, towards the end of the seven years, I was talking with a therapist about my inability to have a relationship with my dad and therefore my continued total blockage of the relationship to protect myself. He said something that really ticked me off: "Your relationship difficulties with your father are your fault."
What!?!
Now I had been in therapy long enough to know that there's gotta be more. But I was pretty ticked off. How dare he tell me that the pain that I experienced each time I saw my dad was my fault! Ok, deep breath. "Please explain."
"These difficulties are your fault because you are expecting your dad to be something he cannot be and yet you continue to approach him and expect him to do, to say, to be what he isn't and cannot be. You are old enough and have seen enough that you both know that this isn't possible and you are able to approach him with enough caution to guide the conversation and interaction around the issues and topics you know will cause you pain."
Whoah!
This changed, and I mean CHANGED, my relationship with my father. You see, before, I went to my dad with the fantasy expectation that I had of the father and son relationship that I had always pictured that we would have when I was an adult. Me, the independent son, inviting him over for beers and a good conversation about deep topics, or calling him on the phone and having an interesting discussion about current events, or asking his advice on something that I was facing. Him, the wise sage, now ready to dispense advice and yet respecting my independence, ready to listen, to offer feedback, and have good discussion that wasn't always in perfect agreement. But here's the reality of my relationship with my dad: that isn't possible. And frankly, for me to expect that of him isn't loving my dad for who he actually is, but loving some fantasy that isn't even him. Sure, it would be great to have that kind of relationship. But that's not what I've been given, it's not what I have. If I was to have any relationship with him, it had to be a real relationship that recognized and respected his limitations (even those he wouldn't recognize or accept about himself).
This has come with a lot of mourning and a lot of sadness, even today. The last two times I have seen him, I have wished for more, but I've had to accept what is, and mourn the loss of what isn't. I can't force him to be what he can't. I must see him and love him as he is. For me that means I don't get to share all of me with him, because I know there are certain ideas and opinions I have that he could not accept and it would add unnecessary pain to the relationship. It's tough to let go of the fantasy. The fantasy "feels" right.. and in a perfect world, it is! But I must accept my dad as fallen, just as I am fallen too. And turn the fullness of my desires, and sorrow, to the Perfect Father in heaven.
