My Father’s Legacy is Being Human

December will mark 10 years since my father died.

Thinking back on his life and death, I don’t remember a time that I have properly mourned him. I gave myself many justifications as to why I haven’t, because I believed proper procedures should be followed before one can truly let go — in this case, assisting in settling his estate would be the final thing left for me to do before I could let him truly rest in peace. But that has not happened — due to a lot of reasons and people.

On this Father’s Day, I wanted to come to terms with how my life has turned out and how that has and continues to affect my own son. Looking back on my father’s legacy has been something that I have not allowed myself to do — whether it be out of fear or having to confront things about him that I didn’t like, I’m not sure. But if I don’t do this for myself, I won’t be able to let him go and find my own life.

My father was a great people’s person — if you met him for the first time, he would make you feel like you are the most important person to him. You would leave his presence feeling great and, as most people would tell me, I am fortunate to have him as a father. He spoke several languages (French was one of his favourite), was very intelligent, loved to travel, and generous to a fault with his friends and sometimes strangers.

He had a consistent group of men around him and he valued his friendships. He worked hard in whichever position he held and worked for multiple government agencies in two countries. His passion for his work was always evident and many relied on his experience and expertise. It was always fascinating to watch him work a room, engage with colleagues, dignitaries, or even restaurant servers — he made them feel good.

We had our moments as well — one I always remember are the times we are either in the car or watching tv and quiz shows came on and we competed to see who would get the most correct answers — spoiler alert, he did.

My father was an alcoholic. I grew up seeing him and his friends drink practically every day — to the point where I ended up being their bartender. He was terrible with money and romantic relationships and made promises to me while drunk that he would never remember the next day. I was always afraid of him — I did not want to disappoint him but he had instilled such fear in my life that I constantly did in his eyes. For example, he once sent me to a driving school on my own and told me to go find out all the information and pricing to learn how to drive — but I was so afraid of just walking into that space alone and asking for information, that I stood outside the offices of the driving school but did not go in. I don’t remember what I told him when I got home, but I do know that he never discussed it nor attempted to help me get my license after that.

There was such deep seeded fear of rejection and abandonment in me that has affected a lot more of my life than I care to admit. I wanted to be like him so much that I followed in his footsteps without even knowing I was doing it — but I had no vision for myself beyond that. I wanted him to be proud of me — and he was; but only when I was successful. My failures were never spoken of, I had to deal with those myself and it has taken me a long time to deal with some of those — but I still have others I need to get over.

When he remarried for the last time, I felt a sense of freedom, where I could go out into the world and find out how to be a success on my own terms. I was naïve — and when I look back on my life, it is amazing how many people took advantage of that. I always tried to see the best in people and trusted the idea that if you do good for those around you, you will get it back too — the idea that your day will come. I believed that I was walking in my faith and that God will look after me when I did what was right. And don’t get me wrong, helping people is amazing — to lift people out of a place of brokenness and help them see the light ahead is inspiring.

I didn’t get that though. Life broke me until I could no longer carry myself. I had to learn to ask for help, but even then, my life decisions did not bring a great change in my life. What I thought were honourable and great decisions came back to bite me. Many a day and night I have questioned if there even is a purpose to look for in this life because we seem to be stuck in a loop of work, paycheck, taxes, debt, depression, expenses, and needing more money — while hoping and praying to win the lottery. Constantly being afraid to be wrong, to be judged, to be rejected, and abandoned is something that has haunted me even when I thought I was free.

The birth of my son showed me that I can be a father, despite all my shortcomings. I have tried to be the best of myself in his life and to a large extent I have succeeded — but there are crucial parts that I have failed to master and the results are evident in his life. I constantly doubt my own capabilities and stand as a father because there is so much I have yet to provide for him. I feel a dearth of imaginative ways to inspire him and that in itself has tainted my own life.

Fear has stalked me for a long time and its seed is in my upbringing. I try to understand my father’s ways of raising me, the fears in his life that he tried to hide, the expectations he had for me without giving me any solid guidance, and the pain he has had in his own life. I felt for him — which in some cases provided an excuse for some of his failures in being my father. All I wanted from him was his approval, his affection, him. But I competed for that with so many others and so many things and I ended up having to find my way in life without knowing who I was to him, what I wanted to be, or how to have confidence. I don’t want my son to inherit these things and I am trying to be different, but I know that it is a hard thing to do.

I learnt a lot from my father though — how to work hard, how to engage with people, that long term friendships are possible and needed, to always give relationships a chance, as much as possible rely on your strengths, how to make people feel comfortable around you, to appreciate your alcohol, how to sing a church hymn like you mean it, and to be a decent human being. There are so many things that I learnt without even trying that have made me who I am — the good parts and the painful ones.

When he died, I was not around him — I had expected him to recover but it turns out he did not. I wasn’t there in his last days because we lived far from each other. And I still don’t remember a time I cried for him. I knew I had lost him but I rationalized that I will have time for that once everything is settled after the funeral. That never happened and that’s a longer story for another time. I miss him sometimes — especially because he never got to meet his grandson.

I wrote this not to shame him but as an outlet for myself and acknowledgement that fathers are human and that in itself is complex. Had you met this man, you would always remember how he made you feel. He became a leader when he was amongst a group of people because he stepped up without even trying and I find myself behaving like that sometimes. He absolutely had his faults, but he was a constant figure in my life. Because of him I am learning to show my son as much affection as I can, engage him, and allow him to engage me. I try to be the best version of what I understand fatherhood to be, but my own failing are also there for him to see, for him to know that life is not perfect.

Father’s Day reminds me on my own father a lot — and how I need to be a better father to my own son. But I must continue to remember that I am human and so much of my life is influenced by things that I cannot change — but I can change how I influence him.

So to the fathers who feel like they are not good enough: we are human. That is our legacy. We can provide everything in the world for them, but our humanity is what they need most from us. Let us value ourselves higher, even if the world around us does not. And let us remember the men who have been fathers to us, biological or not, loving or not, helpful, or hurtful — they are broken vessels that do not or did not know how to fix themselves. Some are beyond redemption — let us not walk in their path. Let us be fathers who know their limits, their pain, and their shortcomings — but let us aim to be better, no matter how dark the road ahead seems or how burdensome what we carry is. Our children want our humanity for themselves, to know that my father is my hero — and heroes have flaws.

As for my son, nothing moves me more than when he sees I am stressed or disappointed, he randomly comes to me and gives me a hug and says “It’s going to be ok”. And I know it will be, somehow, because my 8-year-old said so.

Happy Father’s Day.