have a better relationship with my dad

My mom always kept me and my dad from each other for whatever reason, therefore I wasn’t close to him at all. I thought HE didn’t want to be a part of my life so I hated him for the longest. He finally was able to come in contact with me one year when he met me at my job, and explained to me what had happened. I’m still a little iffy about him, but I’m more than willing to start a relationship with my dad.

if you arent talking to one of your parents, please, please, call them right now! they could be gone in the next second.
My dad was an alcoholic his whole life, he was severely bi-polar, and we just didn’t get along. Since I turned 18, i have distanced myself as far from him as possible, he appoligized and tried to be better. in april 2009 he was traveling to a new job and while driving down the highway suffered a fatal heart attack.

Now I wish I had ten more minutes with him so I can tell him I forgive him, and I LOVE HIM!

Well, I don´t talk to him a long time and I never liked the way we talked before.

Maybe someday I change my mind and become a better son, not only to him but to everyone I know.

I’m kind of tempted to expand this goal to have a better relationship with my parents, but I’m not sure. My relationship with my mom is very good actually, except the occasional fight, but know one can avoid that. Me and my stepdad don’t have a very good relationship though. For the first couple of years that he married my mom, instead of acknowlaging it or even getting mad about it, I just saw Ray as some guy who happened to live with us. After about two years of that, I got angry at him for no reason. He was kind about it, still playing the part for an unruly eight year old. But now it’s more of a brother sister thing, and I kind of like it. I’ve kind of gone back to the random guy living in our house thing, but I hope we can get past that.

I’m going over to his house tonight and tomorrow. I’m sort of nervous about it, because I really want to get along and not loose my temper. I hope I can remember to stay up beat, because if I’m not, of not talkative, he immediately thinks I’m mad at him. Smile of permanince, here I come.

I feel horrible, because I haven’t talked to him in a week. But it feels like whenever I call him, it’s the same awkward, strained conversation over and over. The whole, how are you? good. You? I’m fine. silence. It’s almost painful. But I know he’ll still apreciate it if I call, so I’ll add that to my day’s list. I do love my dad, but sometimes it feels like we’re strangers who know each other very well.

Me and my dad. I can’t explain our relationship because no one but uss gets it. Part time single dad. I love him a lot, and we have a lot of laughs, but a lot of yelling too. His heart keeps getting worse, and I don’t want to regret anything no matter how much time we have left. I’ve decided to try and talk with him once every other day. Sometimes we don’t talk for weeks, and it hurts because after a fight, we’re both relentless, angry, and stubborn. In our family, we know how to keep a grudge. But I guess after his latest trip to the hospital, I’ve decided I can’t let my pride get in the way.

An uplifting event occurred in which my father actually took the steps to ending his dependency on alcohol. He went to the doctor and got a prescription for a drug that makes you violently ill if you drink ANY alcohol while on it. The improvement is amazing. He is so much more level headed and calm now. My relationship with my dad feels like it can now be built on a stable foundation. Thank you so much.

I’m tabling this one for awhile.

The best way I can make sense of this for myself is a timeline.

In May, I got married, and it was the most perfect day!

One day later: my grandpa (my mom’s father) has a stroke and is in the hospital. No idea what the prognosis is.

5 days after that (my mom’s death anniversary): my dad announces he has bought a house with his girlfriend and will be getting married sometime in the fall. No acknowledgment, no apology, nothing but a blank stare at my tears and questions about it. Last year he completely forgot about her death anniversary. What we resolved was that this year he simply had to call me and tell me he knew what it meant.

1 day after that: we are supposed to leave on our honeymoon, but I can’t focus, because I’m so miffed by my dad’s news and am preparing my final good-byes to Grandpa in case he doesn’t make it while we’re gone. Oh, and it’s Dad’s birthday, and I have to play nice-y. ugh.

1 day after that: we finally leave for our four-week honeymoon! Hurrah that we can (sort of) leave troubles behind.

Three weeks in: J loses his wedding ring while we’re walking with all our luggage to our last hotel from the bus station. So sad!

Ironically, hours before, I decide to switch my focus from sheer anger at my dad, and write a letter asking my soon-to-be stepmother (who I’ve never been able to get along with) and make a bit of a peace offering. (In the days following I decide that I’m coping with too much, and best to leave the letter alone and not send it until I’m really ready.)

Three days after that: the decision is made to take Grandpa to Hospice after several failed attempts at independent swallowing and with distinct wishes against a permanent feeding tube.

Two days after that: our honeymoon winds to a close, and we are back home.

Next day: Dad and I talk on the phone, while I’m in the Hospice parking lot, and his attempt of an apology is, “I hope my announcement didn’t upset your honeymoon.” That only reminded me how sad I was on my wonderful honeymoon and how much my brand-new hubby and I fought about that sadness. I start yelling, he gets defensive, then tells me he loves me, to which I say that our definitions of love must be different, and I’m not going to say, “I love you,” because it doesn’t have meaning anymore.

The next morning: Grandpa passes away, with J and I being the only ones present. The experience was both horrific and peaceful, and gave me a lot more appreciation for what my dad had done for my mom when she passed. So I’m the one to call my dad and tell him about Grandpa and apologize for not telling him I loved him the night before. Cries are exchanged. Bonding instilled. Dad says, “We’ll get through this somehow.” Oh, and did I mention it was J’s birthday?

Six days later, after no contact at all, my dad calls me to announce that he was married that afternoon (in July!), and he hopes I’m ok with that. I asked him not to confuse hopes with reality, and I didn’t talk to him for a month.

I will sum up by saying that this past weekend was our annual family reunion. It would have been impossible not to have any contact with him. And in our first contact, I reverted to hostile mode, yelling and screaming at him about being a liar. In an attempt to be civil, I went to him a couple days later, which resulted in me seeing both him and his wife with less-than-desirable results – the woman has no boundaries. She hugged me profusely when I distinctly asked for no hugs. My dad stood idly by, never once tapping her on the shoulder, and defending what I asked for. I realized I had tried reconciling too soon, but kept the goal of civility at the top of my priorities, and survived the rest of that experience without yelling or storming off.

In the days following those encounters, I’ve been rethinking what I had wanted to convey and never got the chance to. Wanting to fight my own fights, and articulate what I need to, I called him this morning to tell him how I was still struggling, how I was still disappointed and hurt, and how I was still mad. I added that I thought getting married without his own kids there might be one of the biggest mistakes of his life. To which he said that he thought differently: it’s been one of the best decisions of his life and he wouldn’t have done anything differently.

Ouch. So I’m done. There is no “better” to be had until his sickening pride doesn’t wound me anymore, and I don’t know how long that will take.

My dad has finally stopped drinking for good (I hope) One day out of the blue he just went to the doctor’s and got prescribed a medication that makes one very ill if they drink. He’s been doing so well since then. It’s been really reassuring to realize that he needed to give effort as well, and it wasn’t just mean old me that needed to change. In fact it was mostly him.