I got to spend the day with both of my daughters. First time in ten years. The eldest moved back East this past month after a decade & a half in Phoenix.
Met a lot of those two kinds of people over the years but seem to have winnowed my closest friends down to type two after frequent failures trying to help type one.
Nothing I am particularly proud of, mind you. just makes me kind of sad and deflated.
That's been on our radar, too. A few of our friends are so negative, so much work... But in the back of my mind I wonder if our friends think that about me, so maybe I need to be a tad more tolerant.
Still, there's been some thinning of the list of people that are fun/positive/endearing to hang with.
oh wow, that's a tough row to hoe. well done for being you!
My wife and I talk frequently about how there seems to be two kinds of people: "I can't do anything because of all the trauma I had growing up!" or "Because of all the trauma I had growing up I was determined to be better!"
Met a lot of those two kinds of people over the years but seem to have winnowed my closest friends down to type two after frequent failures trying to help type one.
Nothing I am particularly proud of, mind you. just makes me kind of sad and deflated.
Happy father's day to the guy who won't admit he's my dad, and to the other guy who adopted me and didn't seem to want any more to do with me after that. Thanks for the lessons on how not to behave.
oh wow, that's a tough row to hoe. well done for being you!
Happy father's day to the guy who won't admit he's my dad, and to the other guy who adopted me and didn't seem to want any more to do with me after that.
Thanks for the lessons on how not to behave.
Location: right behind you. no, over there. Gender:
Posted:
Jun 16, 2016 - 12:06pm
ScottFromWyoming wrote:
I was carrying Augusta on my shoulders when she was little and some old lady looked at her and down at me and after a couple of beats, said "You cain't deny her!"
There's a resemblance. I do tend to think your set as Mini-Justine and Mini-Scott, though.
Cheesecries - there's no denying who dad was. That was surprisingly cool!
I was carrying Augusta on my shoulders when she was little and some old lady looked at her and down at me and after a couple of beats, said "You cain't deny her!"
As always, today was another Father's Day where I remember the man that adopted me at birth - and then spent the rest of his days disliking or ignoring me. I've spent every day of my life - including the years after his death - knowing that I will never make him proud. But he never went to any of my graduations (high school, college, grad school), nor my wedding, and - after each of my two sons were born - he didn't acknowledge them for six weeks. My visits to his house were met with stony silence or uncomfortable small talk. When he died, I thought, "good riddance." Of course, his wife at the time intentionally waited three days to tell me he'd died so she could hide his assets from me. All I wanted/got was a beautiful slide rule I used to marvel at when I visited him at Wright Patterson Air Base.
Of course, sometimes I take a break and think about my birth father - whom I contacted a few years ago and who lives a few hours away. Although I look just like him, he politely declines the honor. He doesn't realize that he's suggesting that my birth mother didn't know who got her pregnant. But I don't want to disrupt his fabulous (comfortable) life and his six sons (my younger brothers).
So it was a Father's Day like every other. Truly - not too bad, unless you let the stories get to you.
understood
however, i'm sure that you're enjoying and celebrating the tradition that you have with your offspring
I posted this on FB yesterday but I was mobile so didn't get a chance to post it here. The story of my dads.
My 3 dads. Yes, I have 3.
My biological mother and father were 17 and 18 when I was born. My mother was a freshman at Stetson and my father was still in New Jersey, where they had met in high school. I don't know much about him other than his family emigrated from Denmark when he was young and he and my mother were no longer together by the time I was born. But for giving me life, I am forever grateful.
My mom and dad, Bruce, adopted me and brought me home at 13 days old. They divorced when I was 2, I stayed with my mom and visited with my dad on weekends. He married my stepmom, Sandy, and they moved to New York. My mom married my stepdad, Bob, and we moved to California. Due to being so far away from each other, I didn't see much of my dad growing up but we always stayed in touch. During business trips to California, he visited with us and during some family trips to New England, we'd visit with them. Our family would even stay at their house for part of our vacation. So, my two sets of parents got over what ever it was they needed to get over for the sake of their children and it was normal for me to see my parents hanging out, having dinner and drinks together, and laughing. Coincidentally, during the summer between 11th and 12th grade, both of my dads got transferred with their jobs to Pennsylvania. We lived about 30 minutes away from each other so I was able to spend a lot of time with my dad and stepmom while we lived there, and we all celebrated some of the holidays together. I am grateful beyond words that this was the norm for me because I know it's not the case for most children of blended families.
My stepdad was never anything less than another dad to me. He raised me as his own after having already raised two daughters who were on their own by the time I came into his life. I don't even like referring to him as my stepdad and only do during times like this when it's necessary to distinguish between the two so as to not confuse people. He passed away in 2006, I miss him dearly and wish more than anything that he could have been at my wedding last year.
Luckily, I still have my "first" dad (how I refer to Bruce if/when necessary to distinguish), who walked me down the aisle and danced with me on my wedding day. I carried a picture of my late father that day in a frame charm that I made and attached to my bouquet and I know he was there in spirit.
My dads are/were such kind and loving gentlemen with big hearts, smiles, and senses of humor and I'm very fortunate to have been given the opportunity to experience life with both of them.
So, on this Father's Day, I honor the three men who made me who I am. One gave me life so the other two could teach me how to live it.
As always, today was another Father's Day where I remember the man that adopted me at birth - and then spent the rest of his days disliking or ignoring me. I've spent every day of my life - including the years after his death - knowing that I will never make him proud. But he never went to any of my graduations (high school, college, grad school), nor my wedding, and - after each of my two sons were born - he didn't acknowledge them for six weeks. My visits to his house were met with stony silence or uncomfortable small talk. When he died, I thought, "good riddance." Of course, his wife at the time intentionally waited three days to tell me he'd died so she could hide his assets from me. All I wanted/got was a beautiful slide rule I used to marvel at when I visited him at Wright Patterson Air Base.
Of course, sometimes I take a break and think about my birth father - whom I contacted a few years ago and who lives a few hours away. Although I look just like him, he politely declines the honor. He doesn't realize that he's suggesting that my birth mother didn't know who got her pregnant. But I don't want to disrupt his fabulous (comfortable) life and his six sons (my younger brothers).
So it was a Father's Day like every other. Truly - not too bad, unless you let the stories get to you.
wow.
I was carrying Augusta on my shoulders when she was little and some old lady looked at her and down at me and after a couple of beats, said "You cain't deny her!"
I do tend to think your set as Mini-Justine and Mini-Scott, though.
