As I stand by my father's bedside, watching him battle cancer, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. On one hand, I feel a sense of duty to be there for him in his time of need, to offer him comfort and support as he faces his mortality. But on the other hand, I can't shake the resentment and anger that have been simmering beneath the surface for years.
My father was never the father I needed him to be. He was distant, emotionally unavailable, and often absent from my life. I got bits and pieces of him, glimpses of the man he could have been, but never the whole person. I learned that he was not guided by his mother, who passed away when he was just 12 years old. Instead, he was taken under the wing of his father, who worked tirelessly as a welder to keep a roof over their heads.
But my father's struggles growing up do not excuse his behavior towards me and my mother. He barely took care of her during her pregnancy, failed to protect her heart, and constantly broke it with his infidelities. He cheated with a straight face, put our family in danger, and now, as he lies in critical condition, he is coming face to face with the consequences of his actions.
I find myself torn between the desire to forgive and move forward, and the need to confront him about the pain he has caused. When my husband calls him out for forgetting my birthday, or when my father expresses jealousy over the way my husband treats me, I am reminded of the ways in which my father has failed me.
But as I watch him fight for his life, I can't help but feel a sense of compassion towards him. I see the fear in his eyes, the regret etched on his face, and I realize that despite everything, he is still my father. And so, I choose to be there for him, to offer him the love and support that he never gave me.
I may never get the closure or the apology that I crave, but I can choose to let go of the anger and resentment that have consumed me for so long. I can choose to be the bigger person, to show him grace and forgiveness in his time of need.
As my daughter and I sit by his bedside, listening to his amazing stories, I know that this story may not have a neat and tidy ending. He will be undergong radiation tomorrow morning. So I know that I have the power to write my own ending, to choose love and compassion over bitterness and resentment. And so, I choose to be there for my father, to offer him the peace and forgiveness that he may never have given me.
Here is a song my father played all the time.
He introduced me to Earth Wind & Fire, Stevie Wonder and so many other greats.
While we drove around in his drop top at 9 years old I remember enjoying the breeze and the music with him. My love for music came from him and I will continue to heal through melody.
Thanks for reading.
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