A Journal Jar Question: Fathers

I didn't write a father's day entry, but as I was perusing journals this morning, happened upon the Journal Jar.  The question was, do you and your father have anything in common.

There was a time I would have answered that with a resounding and unequivocal No!  and was convinced nothing could change it.  My father was a lot of things.  He was called Mayor of Montrose, Mr. Marshall, and often, son of a bitch.  My brothers and sisters and I tagged him The Silver Bullet because of his penchant for silver town cars and his lead foot.

He was, and is, a hard man - at least, on the surface.  He's an alcoholic.  He is unhappy with everything and everyone - me, in particular.  I was supposed to amount to something.

He was physically abusive.  I remember instances vividly, but won't go into them here.

Some cruel words come out of his mouth, and I know this sounds terrible, but I feel fate has stepped in to punish him for that.  He has oral cancer.  He finished up chemo and radiation at the end of February 2005, and still cannot eat most foods because his tongue is burned so badly Pain keeps him awake most nights. I believe my mother's prayers are at work here - not in the punishment, but perhaps a reckoning so that when his time comes, his sins will be paid up, and Hell won't be a probability.

Still, there is much good in him, and I have seen it.  It makes it hard to reconcile one aspect of the man with the other, but it's there..

One Christmas, he bought a coat for a man whose own was in tatters.  When the hungry entered the silver bullet's restaurant or yard, offering to work for a meal, dad would give freely and for no work in return, if he didn't have a task to hand out.  It was small moments no one else saw that showed something else lived and breathed underneath the hard and harsh veneer, and I respected that.

We do have things in common, both good and bad.  I can be unforgiving.  I catch sharp words flying from my mouth and wish they hadn't.  But I share his love of the soil, his respect for wildlife, his love for animals and most days, his business acumen and keen insight.  At least, I like to think I learned those things from him.  Some days, I'm everybody's fool.  He was never that.

I hope he forgives me for not being what he wanted me to be.  I know that I have forgiven him, and pray for him daily.