Who has had the greatest impact on your life?
It’s not always who you think it may be.
For me, it is my father…
And, I know, through these posts and writings, I have shared a side of him that while true, is only a part of him.
My father, “mi papa” is
a good man
a loving man
a faithful man…
Multiple things can be true at the same time.
He has given me my passion for harmony, unfortunately, by being such a champion of disharmony. I realize though that it was never with bad intentions. The disharmony that he created in me was with the most loving of intentions.
This is why I am so eager to share what I see…
Because it is loving, caring, loyal people that can be brutally destructive with those they love most, by being unaware of the concept of harmony.
I am fairly certain, my father loves no one in the world, more than he loves me. And, it has taken me 46 years to be able to see him fully, to accept him fully.
I have always loved him, and I have always treated him respectfully, though I have struggled at times to respect him.
He will be 86 this week.
I realize that I will never change him. And, that has taken me a long time to accept.
I realize that who he is doesn’t define who I am. And, that took me a long time to accept.
But, most importantly, I realize that his disharmony, is his disharmony, and I don’t have to feel it so deeply. I don’t own it. And, I should not internalize it. This has been the final learning step for me with him. I have finally come to the realization that my ego, my fear, my sense of worth does not have to be and cannot be hurt by his approach.
For example, I talk to my parents at least once a day. We don’t talk about anything. Most of the time, I listen to them tell me what they are doing and eating. Yesterday was my youngest son’s birthday. So, he sent an email to him. He sent the email to me. He sent the email to all of my sons, to make sure that his email reached Marco.
I know that its important for my dad to feel that he is present in my children’s lives.
So, last night, driving home from dinner, I called my parents and had my son say hello to both of them. I did not get on the line. I was exhausted and had already talked to my mom earlier in the day. My son talked to my mother for a few minutes, and then my dad, and while he was talking to my dad, it got cut off. Chances are my dad hung up by mistake.
So, today my father sends me an email, explaining all of the efforts that he made to reach my son via email, and that despite his best efforts, he has not heard if my son has received the email. He also said that yesterday he barely got a chance to talk to my son, because they got disconnected. I could tell he was angry on some level – or hurt on some level.
Now, there is a small part of me that feels the guilt.
And, I HATE guilt… I run away from guilt like a bat with rabies… I can’t stand guilt… it causes my ego to defend itself with immediate emotional distance.
But, that guilt is fairly minimal at this point… “It’s dad being dad.” I am passed it.
It was for most of my life that my dad, unintentionally used guilt to try to make me do what he thought was best.
I realize in retrospect, that he had defined in his head what success for me looked like... he defined for himself who my friends should be, who I should go out with, what I should value, what I shouldn't, and who I should be.
For much of my formative life I found him pushing me in directions that I fundamentally disagreed with, and always discounting of the direction that I set for myself.
For too many years I took that to heart. I took it personally.
He just didn't know better.
Thanks to him... I do...
I know that ultimately, I want to help my boys understand their choices, and I know that I need to let them make them.
I try to inflluence my boys on their approach and thought process, not on their outcomes.
I try to expose my boys to different examples of different people doing different things and achieving different levels of success.
I want to expose them to things so that they can see the right path for them as a result.
I never try to force them down a path or to a specific result.
I learned that, ultimately, from my dad.
I will call him this afternoon and talk to him and he will be fine.
The way my mind works :
a) He could have called back if they got cut off. That would have taken all of 3 seconds.
b) He could have acknowledged and felt the thoughtfulness that I called them so that my son could talk to them.
With my dad, he can’t help to make everything about him. It’s not about my son’s birthday…. It’s about him, as the grandfather being acknowledged on my son’s birthday.
He cares about the kids, but his ego or better yet his need to be recognized and loved is so hungry, so lonely that he can’t see straight.
His selfishness is, in my view, such a sad and deep sense of unworthiness. He can’t feel love because I really think he believes he is incapable of being loved, so no matter what anyone does, he doesn’t see it. It is never enough.
It took me a long time to figure that out. And, now, it doesn’t make me angry. It makes me crazy sad for him.
He is obsessed with telling me about the things that he wants to leave me after he dies. He definitely is one who sees his “net worth as his self worth” as a good friend put it a few days ago.
I used to roll my eyes at the thought of him telling me for the literally 1,000th time that he wanted me to take a certain painting, a certain silver plate… etc. I want to yell at him, “DAD… YOU HAVE GIVEN ME SO MUCH… WHAT I WILL REMEMBER YOU FOR, WHEN YOU ARE GONE IS NOT THE PAINTINGS OR THE SILVERWARE…
I will remember you for the harmony that you taught me…
I will remember you for being hopeful…
I will remember you for being inspired to show people a special time in your house…
I will remember you for never letting my sister’s cause die (even now at the age of 86 he remains on the Rehabilitation Institute Board of Directors and helps with the X-mas party every year. He has served on that board since the ‘70s).
I will remember you for bringing me to the United States.
I will remember you for being loyal to my mother.
I will remember you for being a proud man…
I will be grateful for you…
For having the courage to bring me to the United States….
I can only imagine how scary that must have been to leave your country as an adult with three kids (two handicapped) and starting a new life in a new world.
So much of the disharmony you showed me as a kid, was because you loved me.
You didn’t want me to stay in the United States, so you try to make me feel terrible about embracing this country… but it was because you didn’t want to go back to Peru alone. And, you were right… you did.
I will be grateful to you…
For doing the very best that you could, having never really had a father or an adult male figure in your life.
So much of the disharmony I felt, was because you loved me.
You wanted me to become a man, and you had to define that role for yourself without a good example – and in a completely different world and time.
I will be grateful to you…
For helping me be such an independent person.
So much of the disharmony I felt was because you left me alone. You didn’t understand this world you brought me to. You didn’t really speak the language. I am sure you wanted to play a bigger part in my life, but it was a complete unknown.
I will be grateful to you…
For watching after my mother as she continues to lose her way and her memory. You are giving her all the care and concern that you can, with great love and great dedication and loyalty, despite her offensive outbursts to you. You don’t deserve them. The scars she has from the disharmony you two lived unfortunately will not subside. I am grateful and proud of you for looking past those things and loving her still and being faithful to your promise to take her of her till death do you part.
I will be grateful to you…
For your moments of candor and vulnerability…
I remember them vividly, You only shared them a few times in your life. I remember the note you wrote me when I graduated from high school, where you told me you were proud of me. I don’t know that I had ever heard those words before. On that note, you acknowledged that you wanted to be there for me and just didn’t know how.
I tear up even now, thinking the thought that you were proud of me…
I know now that you are proud of me, even if you cannot bring yourself to say it.
You don’t have to.
I know now that you loved me then and you love me now, and did your very best to show it.
No one said a great role model, had to be a good role model.
No one said you had to parent by example.
I still believe the best lessons we learn, we learn from heartache, from pain.
The best lessons, we learn on our own.
I know now that so much of the disharmony that I felt, was my own ego, my own "sense of self" being immature and weak.
That is what fathers' jobs are... to help make our boys into men. Into good men. One way or another. I think my father succeeded.
I would not be the man that I am today without you. You did the very best that you could. Ironically, you taught me harmony. You taught me how much disharmony can hurt. You taught me how you can take a word or a moment and make it painful. And, thanks to that, I know how great a moment of harmony can feel. You taught me to never give up. You taught me to live my life. You taught me to be proud.
I wish… which never works… that I could teach you something back.
But, I realize I cannot.
I cannot teach you harmony… I can only work with every moment that we may have left to try to make you feel my love, feel my dedication, feel my loyalty, feel my respected and my gratitude.
I am grateful for you.
The thought of you breaks my heart.
The thought of you emboldens my heart…
For the lessons you have taught me are invaluable…
You have defined me…
And, now I am proud of myself…
And, I am doing my best…
Unlike your childhood,
I had a role model to learn from…
And, he taught me, you taught me, so very, very much…
Happy Birthday!
Thank you for EVERYTHING!
Your son in harmony,
Nestor