This past week trying to get on the right track, as far as getting healthy, has made me reflect on a lot of things.
I was in the shed the other day, punching away at the punching bag, and I started getting all teary. Yes, I was in pain, every muscle in my body was hurting because I'm so fricken unfit, but that wasn't why I got teary.
I was trying to motivate myself to push through the pain barrior, to stay focused on why I NEED to keep going. It got me thinking about my Dad, and I guess life in general.
I'm not close to my Dad, I never have been, but I love him & always will. I had a horrible childhood. I'm the oldest of 4 kids & grew up feeling very unloved, and at times, hated by my father. For whatever reason, he resented me. I was treated differently to my siblings (1 brother & 2 sisters).
I could sit here and go over countless theories - 1. he resented me because I made him settle down, as he barely knew my 17 year old Mum, & they got married a couple of months after finding out she was pregnant. 2. maybe he thought he wasn't my natural father (that's a whole other story) 3. maybe he just didn't like me fullstop. Who bloody knows? All I know is he was a nasty man towards me, and from what I hear, at times violent.
By the time I was a teenager, I hated that man so much that I left home when I was 14, and lived with my Auntie (my Mum's sister). It was a really hard time for me at that age. I knew my Mum was having an affair, so I was angry at her. I hated my Dad for his cruel ways towards me. I didn't really have much to do with him after my parents separated. My Mum went her own separate way, and my Dad raised my siblings.
As time went on though, I learned to forgive him. We still aren't close. I really only speak to him around Christmas time. He has never gotten my children presents for their birthdays or Christmas. I always make the effort to at least send him a card for his birthday, and give him gifts for Christmas.
Then late 2010, I get a phone call from my estranged sister saying she was on her way to the hospital with my Dad & that his Dr suspects he may have had small heart attacks. My siblings and I knew he hadn't been well in the months leading up to that phone call. My Dad has Type 1 Diabetes, and had been complaining of feeling ill & passing out or fainting a lot. We all just assumed he'd not been taking care of himself. We all went into panic mode.
As it turns out, his arteries were blocked around his heart, and he eventually had a quadruple bypass - 2 days after I had my pyelosplasty surgery. The week before Christmas, we all gathered at my youngest sister's house for a joint Christmas & birthday party for her oldest son. It was here that my Dad, just casually, tells me that he found out recently that he had "died" twice on the operating table, and 1 of his lungs collapsed. I didn't know what to say!
As I sit here with tears in my eyes again, I guess what I am saying is that all of the above events have made me aware that life can be cruel. My Dad was a complete arsehole to me growing up, yet I took charge when we found out he was sick, & was the rock for my siblings who were all falling apart, especially my brother. Even after everything my Dad did to me, the cruel names, hitting me, throwing things at me, I still love him & would be crushed if something bad happened to him. And I don't want to end up like him, 59 years old & feeling like your life is almost over.
When I think about it, I could have easily grown up a different person. My life is so much different than my childhood. My house is always clean. My kids education is extremely important to me. My children's health & well-being is my number 1 priority. I make time to have "private talks" with my kids so I know what they are doing & feeling.
I don't want to be a product of my Father ... but I love him and I always will !!!