Right after my mom married my dad, the Army sent him to fight in the Vietnam War. He was there when I was born. He didn't come home until I was a few months old. I am told he did not come home the same. Before he left, he was a fun guy they said. He laughed and enjoyed life. After the war, he, like most guys there, came home with so many personal issues. I am sure he had PTSD. He was angry and never really close to anybody. Almost immediately after my brother was born, my parents got divorced. I think he had escalated from verbally abusing my mom to physically hitting her. Before the war, he was a great guy. After the war, he was a jerk.
I wish I had known him prior to him going. He never hit me or my brother. Sometimes he yelled, but in the normal way. He just did not really know what to do with us. He tried for a while, but then just gave up. I resented that. I tried to get to know him when I was in my 20's. I moved back home to Arkansas and stayed for a few years. He still did not know what to do with me, but he tried. I worked at his restaurant and his bar for a bit. I was part of the family up until my Nanny died (his mom). She was the one who included me in activities. When my son was born my dad wanted to be grandpa to him, but by then I was back to being angry at him. I decided that since he never was a father, he couldn't be a grandfather.
I regret that now so much. My son never knew him and neither has my daughter. My dad passed away back in 2006 I think. I sobbed when I found out. I instantly regretted never healing that rift. It took me years to understand that he had psychological trauma. I am sure he saw too much over in the war. He was just barely an adult when he was sent there. I sincerely wish I had gotten to know him better.
No comments:
Post a Comment