Now father you’re dead and gone and I’m finally free to be me,
Thanks for all your dark gifts for which I’ve got no sympathy,
I’m living in a walled-up place in the bounds of 5th symphony,
Thanks for this and thanks for that, I gotta let go, learn to see
Now father you’re dead and gone and I’m finally free to be me,
Father of Mine | Everclear
I’ll take “songs that hit really close to home” for $400 please, Alex.
Father of mine
Tell me what do you see
When you look back at your wasted life and you don’t see me
When Gerald Ford was born on July 14, 1913 in Omaha, Nebraska, he was originally named Leslie Lynch King, Jr., after his biological father. Leslie Sr. was a brutal, physically and emotionally abusive man who had problems with alcohol. The first time that he beat his wife Dorothy — the future…
Thank goodness this day is over.
[this is the one with the reblogs taking comments off the side of the dash — I’ve only left the comment from the person I reblogged from]
This was powerful. But it kind of lost me at
My dad proved that pretty fucking wrong.
Other than that, though, this was heart-wrenchingly amazing.
Dreamt last night that I drove to some beach with my original dad.
And when we got there, he complimented me on my driving.
Woke up and realized…he never even saw me drive in real life. That’s how long he was gone.
frompawntoqueen replied to your post: Ugh I forgot how painful it is to watch Once Upon…
very painful, I forgot until I watched the reblog. Then I was just like stab me in the heart
Seriously. Everything seemed so wonderful at the end of season one (well, with the exception of the purple cloud engulfing everything). Suddenly they threw us right back into the fire!
allibelieveinismyself replied to your post: Ugh I forgot how painful it is to watch Once Upon…
Oh My Gosh I can so relate! What an emotional episode. I was crying then yelling at the tv, then total an complete shock and silence at the end. I think I might have been gasping. What an amazing episode to bring out so many feelings
I made the mistake of watching the recap special they aired before the new episode. I was doing OK until Henry ate the apple turnover. Then…
Then we get to the new episode, and the possible (yet short-lived even if true) love triangle, and Regina being evil and Mr. Gold being…whatever Mr. Gold is being (I can’t commit to “evil” for him, but he’s maddening).
I have a feeling this season is going to hurt more than last season (and last season brought out a bunch of “dad” feelings for me, and he was still alive for all but the last four episodes). Somehow I don’t think they’re done torturing me with fathers who actually want to be fathers (as opposed to mine, who worked very hard to NOT be around until he was trying to “buy” his way into heaven). Especially now that Charming knows who his daughter is.
Oh, look. A tangent in my post. I doubt I’m done with those, either. =)
Dad wears a skirt so people won’t pick on his five-year-old son’s love of wearing dresses rather than trying to make the boy dress as others.
That beats the hell out of the time when I was with my dad and a guy with long hair walked by on the other side of the street. My dad pointed to him and said “if you ever grow your hair like that, I’ll disown you.”
I didn’t grow my hair, and he disowned me anyway (until he was dying and wanted to make a show out of reconciling - I didn’t play along).
My dad’s widow called today.
She called just to let me know that he had left some money to my older sister (same parents) and my younger sister (same mother, but he was not the father and knew it — it’s why he and my mom divorced 30 years ago). The kids that he adopted with her are getting a cut. But she wanted me to know that I wasn’t getting anything.
I guess she wanted me to feel bad for not visiting him for Thanksgiving when we knew he was on his last legs. I don’t. If anything, it just made it easier to keep hating him, and maybe turn up the volume on the feeling.
I didn’t expect anything when he died…he never gave two shits about me when he was alive, why should that change now that he’s dead? But to call and make sure that I know that I’m the only one who was left out is a fucking asshole thing to do.
Well, Easter dinner was interesting. All of us in this neck of the woods went to my little sister’s house for dinner. My older sister was there, who was very close with my dad for her entire life.
In fact, she just got back from visiting my dad in California on Thursday, the day before he died. She was telling em how much he said he missed me, and wished he could see me. I think she was trying to make me feel bad (she and I didn’t always get along too well growing up…we’re mostly past that, but she still tries to zing me once in a while).
Today was the first time that she heard my entire side of the story on things.
How I never felt good enough.
And how I remember when my mom and I would drive up to Santa Barbara to see her piano recitals and band concerts, but he never once came down to see my band concerts or watch me play little league.
And how, when he came to visit a couple Christmases ago, and he and I went out for a “father-son reunion,” he spent the whole night talking about the son he adopted after he stopped being a part of my life. I had really struggled with deciding whether to let him back into my life then, and then spent the whole time hearing about the son he loved more. And then, since he was dying, I wanted to be the “good son” and take him back, only for him to start ignoring me again soon after.
She tried to defend him, saying that she isn’t good at returning communications either unless it’s on facebook. She also didn’t like my “dad figured out how to unfollow and block me in real life” joke, but I didn’t really expect her to burst out laughing at it.
I don’t understand why that’s easier than answering a phone call or replying to an email. But then again, I’m the opposite…I get @ replies on twitter from people who I’ve never heard of, who don’t follow me…and I still reply.
My mom backed me up, though, bringing up the fact that he always remembered my older and younger sisters’ birthdays (even though my younger sister isn’t technically his considering that she came from another man’s loins), but never so much as said “happy birthday” to me for as long as she can remember.
She also mentioned how my dad had never really spent time with me, even back when she was married to him. So I don’t feel so bad about not feeling bad, knowing that the one other person who knows the situation as well as I do understands why I don’t feel much about him dying (at least on the surface…I imagine all these posts I’m writing here may point to some deeper feelings that are festering inside, but damned if I know what they are).
She did take his side on the adopted kids, saying that he just went along with the adoptions to make his second wife happy…but that doesn’t change the fact that he kept in close contact with them into their adulthoods while he ignored me.
Needless to say, when my sister invited me to travel with her to the funeral on Saturday, I said no.
If my dad’s life flashed before his eyes when he kicked the bucket, I wonder if he saw any of my little league games or band concerts, since he never bothered to show up to any (even though it was his idea for me to play baseball and be in the band in the first place)?
As I was going to bed this morning, my stepdad came to apologize for the flippant way that he told me that my dad was dead.
I told him not to stress over it…I know he was still processing it himself, and isn’t exactly used to breaking that kind of news to people (having once been the designated death announcer for a much-beloved co-worker once, I know how much it sucks to be the bearer of this news).
Factor in that I’ve pretty much just been waiting for it to happen, and even though his casual “You’re dad’s dead [PAUSE] Hey, did you see that season ticket special for the Dodgers’ bobblehead giveaway games yesterday? That was neat!” caught me off-guard, he also knows that my dad and I weren’t exactly close.
I thought it was a nice gesture for him to say that the way he broke it to me had bothered him as he laid in bed last night, but I can’t say I was mad at him over it.
Also: that awkward moment when you accidentally post this on your Disney blog instead of your personal one. Oops.
My mom’s taking this harder than I am. Which kind of makes sense, considering that she married him.
Although she did cheat on him, too (that’s where my little sister and the first of the three divorces she’s had came from).
She wasn’t home when we found out. She was with my older sister. Since she got home, she hasn’t said a word to me. She’s talked to my stepdad about it, but I think she knows that I’m kind of in a weird place about it.
I’ve lost a lot of family members throughout my life. Some have hit me harder than others…but I don’t think I’ve reacted to a death the same way twice. I don’t know if it’s just that I don’t know how, or what.
Fuck it. It is what it is, or something.
I’m kind of halfway between sobbing and dancing for joy while singing “♪ Ding, dong, my dad is dead, ♫ dead old dad, the dickhead dad… ♪”
I want to do both, and yet neither.
It’s mostly just balancing out into a feeling of “meh.”
Started listening to music after that Dad post earlier, and now I’ve got the emotions like Jagger.
Still a fitting song to say goodbye to Dad with.