Here’s the truth: my father has recently passed away, and I find myself feeling nothing. This isn’t meant to hurt anyone’s feelings; it’s simply my reality. When someone loses a parent, it’s typically a profound experience, but what happens when that parent is estranged? How are we meant to process that loss?
To give you some context, my father and mother married when she already had two children from a previous relationship, and he had one of his own. I came along later, and by the time I was born in the mid-’70s, I was almost like an only child due to the age gap. Growing up, I often spent time with my sisters and their families, not because my home life was unhappy, but because I adored being around their little kids. I don’t even recall my parents fighting; they simply divorced when I was around nine.
After the split, I lived with my mom (who is truly the best), while my dad moved to a town about an hour away. He took his car repair business there, and his family lived nearby. I have fond memories of my paternal grandparents, whom I loved dearly. I cherished my time in that town, filled with blissful Easter egg hunts and carefree adventures.
I was supposed to visit my dad every other weekend, but as time went on, those visits diminished. I often preferred staying with my grandparents or cousins instead. Though I have a few memories of him teaching me to shoot a BB gun or swing across a ravine, the overwhelming recollection is of him drinking too much and neglecting our time together. The visits became a chore, often leaving me feeling unwanted.
There was a particular weekend I remember vividly. My dad picked me up from my sister’s house, and I was overwhelmed with silent tears during the car ride. Midway through, he turned around and returned me to my sister, stating harshly, “I don’t want her. She cries.” That moment marked a turning point in my feelings towards him.
As years passed, he showed up for my high school graduation but was otherwise absent during significant moments of my life. He didn’t attend my college graduation, claiming he didn’t want to get lost driving. By then, I had accepted that he had moved on, prioritizing his new family over me.
Despite the lack of communication, I still tried to reach out. I would occasionally call him, but my efforts went mostly unanswered. My children were born, and there was still no recognition from him. He only showed up to a couple of their birthdays, and even then, our interactions felt strained. The final straw was when he suggested I bring my girls to his house to throw them in a lake. That was the last time I saw or spoke to him, as I refused to expose my kids to that environment.
When I received the news from my cousin that he had passed away in his sleep, I felt nothing. It may sound harsh, but I had already mourned the relationship long before his death. He had chosen to be absent from my life and, by extension, from the lives of my children. I often pondered whether he would ever reach out, but he never did.
The most painful part? Reading his obituary and discovering my children were not mentioned as surviving family members. Instead, his wife’s grandchildren were listed, making it seem as if mine never existed. He truly missed the opportunity to know some remarkable kids.
At least I no longer have to wonder if today would be the day he’d want to reconnect. He decided long ago that he didn’t want to be part of our lives.
If you’re dealing with similar feelings about estranged family, you’re not alone. It’s a complex and layered experience. For resources on understanding infertility and home insemination, check out this excellent guide. If you want to read more about navigating difficult family dynamics, you can find additional insights on our blog here.
In summary, losing an estranged parent can elicit a range of confusing emotions. While many might expect a deep sense of loss, I find myself feeling liberated from the uncertainty that once clouded my life.