Age changes us all

Growing up, my relationship with my father was always ‘hit and miss’. Sometimes he was in my life and sometimes he wasn’t. Many times it was through absolutely no fault of my own. Sometimes it was my choice.
His marriage to my mother ended when I wasn’t even 10. It is what it is. This post isn’t about their marriage. It is about my perspectives on my relationship with my father.
We are not close. We never have been. However I feel closer to him now that I am nudging a half century than I ever have.
I wonder why that is?
It doesn’t mean that I love my step-father any less. He has always been there for me and continues to be there for me.
I am blessed to have two men in my life to call ‘father’. Many do not have even one.
I guess that is where this post comes from.
Yesterday, I attended my niece’s wedding. There were not many from her father’s side of the family. Again… It is what it is and this post isn’t about families.
My father gave my niece away because her father left us too many years ago to recall. And the pain is still there with that loss.
She carried her father on her bouquet. A photo of her at her first birthday being held in his arms. She lit a candle to remember him during the ceremony.
And I cried. Because I also miss my brother.He would have been so proud of her.
After the ceremony, I saw my father as a human being. I saw him as aging. I saw him grieving. I held him as he sobbed uncontrollably and then wiped the tears from his face and from my own eyes.
I have never seen him cry. Not like that.
This was a side to the man that I have never seen.
I often wonder why that is.
Many years ago, I was required to do an assignment on cultural awareness as part of my studies. I chose the Hungarian culture since that is my heritage. I learned so much from it. Pieces of the jigsaw puzzle clicked into place and I could say “That’s why he did this…. said that…. acted in this way”. Things began to make sense.
My father was a big presence in the life of my nieces after the loss of their father. I saw that relationship last night at the wedding and it was beautiful to see.
I feel guilt that my own children don’t have that same kind of relationship with my father and I know that is in part because of my relationship with him.
He often says to me “You never pick up the phone” and I reply “You own a telephone too”.
I guess the difficulty is that I can see so much of myself in him. We are so very much alike in our stubborness. We can both be arrogant and selfish.
But every so often, his veneer cracks and I see him – the person.
I recall the morning I was at work and he called me to say that his wife (my step mother) had passed away and he was sitting beside her hospice bed and didn’t want to leave her to go and get a coffee. He asked me to come and help. And I did. I arrived almost two hours later and sat with her whilst he went to get a coffee because he didn’t want her to be alone. I sat with him as he planned the funeral. I gave the eulogy at her funeral. I stood with him.
And then we drifted once more.
He now has a beautiful Hungarian lady in his life. She is so gentle and has accepted every one of my father’s family as part of hers. Her family has become a part of ours also.
Yesterday I stood with my father once more in his grief – and joy.
Because that is what families do.
And so as I age, I realise that he is more than 20 years ahead of me and time is not standing still for either of us.
So as he hugged me goodbye last night, he told me that he loved me.
And I replied
“I love you too”.