Reminders of Him, and Me

Today would have been my dad’s 78th birthday. It feels unreal, like attempting to understand the life of a stranger who was meant to mean more to me but never did. He was always a passing presence in my life, leaving confusion and sadness in his wake.

As a kid, I didn’t realize how much was missing. I knew he wasn’t available when I needed him. As I grew older, I realized that those occasional appearances were not fatherly gestures, but rather tasks he undertook to relieve his own guilt. Then, out of nowhere, while I was struggling with my own chaos—broken relationship, burnout from a job I disliked, barely scraping by—he reappeared. This time, however, there is a plot twist. He had cancer and needed someone to look after him, so he dangled the promise of his flat like a carrot.

Nice try.

At that moment, I was in no shape to care for anyone, let alone him. I had learned to keep my distance in order to protect my emotions from more disappointments. Still, somewhere deep down, I hoped that after his death, things would somehow settle themselves—that he would leave me something as a gesture of peace. However, when the will was read, his sister received everything. There it was again—proof that some people never truly change.

It’s difficult to describe the mix of feelings that arise on a day like this. Sure, there’s rage, but so is sadness, disillusionment, and a peculiar sense of relief. I’ve discovered that not everyone is meant to be a parent, no matter what role life assigns them. And it’s good to stop expecting things from individuals who can’t meet what you require.  

So today, I’m sending this birthday wish into the ether—not for him, but for myself. It’s a way to close this chapter, letting go of the weight of expectations and resentment.  

Happy Birthday, Dad. Wherever you are, I pray you have found peace. Thank you for the shattered memories; they shaped me, for better or worse. And thank you for showing me that the family we build, whether through friendship, love, or community, can be more real than the one we were born into.

To anyone else dealing with family drama, remember that it’s acceptable to move away. It is acceptable to set boundaries that safeguard your peace. We are all free to evolve out of the locations that have damaged us. Healing takes time, but the first step is to choose yourself. You’ve got it.