My Father

When I think of my father, there's only one thing that comes to mind: The Cubs. That's something he can talk about for hours on end. His entire living room is decorated in Cubs merchandise, most of his clothes have the Cubs logo on it, and every Christmas he will undoubtedly receive something that has anything to do with the infamous team. I remember one night, when I was maybe seven years old, the Cubs won an important game and my dad was ecstatic. He took the Cubs flag that he has hanging on his living room wall and began swaying it side to side while singing "Go Cubs Go". I had never seen such pride in his eyes. The sheer joy that he had for his team at that moment was unforgettable. Unfortunately, I do not share his passion for The Cubs because I do not care about sports in the slightest. Starting in fourth grade, I found my life path through music and teaching instead of ball throwing and dirty gym socks. However, sometimes I wish I could find it in myself to love The Cubs just as much as he does. I always wonder how different our relationship might be if I shared that interest with him since it is so prominent in his life.

My mother and father divorced when I was very young, and the arrangement was that I was to live with my mom and visit my dad every other weekend. I always looked forward to visiting my dad on the weekends. He lives in a cute house on a quiet street; the same house that we all used to live in before the divorce. Our weekends were typically the same. First he would pick me up from my mom, then drive me to his house where we would chat briefly in the car until we decided to sing along to ABBA instead. Then we would get pizza from Little Caesars, watch TV, and then finish the day off with dinner with my grandmother. The next morning, I would get up around 8:30 AM and he would get up around noon, he would heat me up some Eggo waffles, and then take me back to my mom. It was always relaxing to take a break from the more structured life with my mom and get a chance to sneak ice cream for breakfast before my dad woke up, but for the most part that was how all our weekends went. I never expected anything more.

Then I got older. I grew up and realized that I needed more from my father than just a weekend where we ate more than we talked. I needed a father who not only was there for me, but genuinely wanted to be there for me. I needed a father who went out of his way to form a relationship with me and truly wanted me to be a part of his life as well. My perspective of our relationship changed greatly after so many times of "I'm not going to be able to make it to your band concert after all," or "I completely forgot about your Solo Ensemble competition." There were many discussions had and many opportunities for redemption, but nothing ever changed. Over the years my hope for him to miraculously turn into the father I've always wanted deteriorated. When I used to take a step back and look at our relationship, I would feel sad and think "What about me?" but now I look at it as "I'm honestly surprised you remember I'm alive."

Eventually I just gave up and accepted my father as someone who I will never have a good relationship with. He won't be the father to feel sad if I ever move out of state, or babysit my future children, or walk me down the aisle. He's the father to only text me on my birthday, to fill me with empty promises, and talk to me maybe once every three months. Never once will that same glimmer of joy in his eye during that one Cubs win be directed towards me for anything I will do. I'll never be something he wants to talk about to his friends at work or check up on as often as a sports team. As long as it took me to accept it, I have. And I don't expect anything to change.

Having the absence of a consistent and reliable father (aside from my step father after my mom remarried), has allowed me to realize the people in my life who do value me and do want to have an active role in my life. I'm so thankful for my mom and all the support she gives me, and my dad's sister who has been there for me through so much, and my so many wonderful friends I have made in college. And though I've never had the "traditional" family where I have both of my parents heavily involved in my life, I have found love through people I've never expected, and to me, that's a million times better.