My father is special. I don’t really know how he became the way he is because I have very little experience or knowledge of what really happened to him when he was young, besides the wild stories he tells. He was born in 1955 to my grandparents who were a little odd themselves. But odd in the way that the 1940s/1950s made people.
My grandfather was a young man in his early 30s when he met my grandmother and I know very little of his background or how they met. My grandmother was 7 years older than my grandfather and I guess she was in her late 30s when they met and had never been married previously. Although she had lived on her own away from her parents and went to school and had roommates and traveled. (Years later after she died, I went through all of her pictures and saw that she must have dated and had boyfriends before grandpa). She seemed so normal in that sense but really did cling to those expectations that you get married, have children, cook a turkey dinner perfectly, over look your husband’s indiscretions, and always have your hair curled.
My grandparents married and had two children, both via horrific, old school c-sections that slice your stomach open vertically. My grandfather as far as I know at least did one thing kind of right. He had his own real estate business for years and was extremely successful. They afforded a lovely manor with a dozen bedrooms and a handful of fire places. My grandmother also worked for the company but also worked as an English teacher at some point.
My grandfather went to World War II and was very chauvinistic and treated my grandmother very badly. He was also very abusive towards my father and his older brother and had a daily penchant for cigars and scotch. My father and uncle were teenagers and 20 something through the 70s and so were rebellious and in to drugs and up to no good. Which is of course the natural path for spoiled brats who have assholes as parents with extremely high and unrealistic expectations who try to show their love by buying you cars. My uncle probably got it worse than my dad since he was the older son. To this day he is one of the strangest people I know. My dad still resembles 80% a normal person. My uncle, probably 20% normal.
My grandfather had a mistress for years and my grandmother knew it but stuck it out until the boys left home. She knew for several years and my dad and uncle knew and knew she knew. Years she wasted for nothing. In my opinion. My grandfather went and lived the remaining decades of his life with his mistress who I never met. The last time I saw my grandfather I was 10.
My grandmother remarried and lived for 10-15 years or so with her second husband who passed away eventually. She left all of her extended family across the country who loved her and were active in her life to live close to my dead beat father and dead beat uncle. My weirdo uncle did his best at least. He would help her buy her groceries and take her to the doctor. For that, I am very grateful. But he had no friends either and no relationship. His marriage that he had, where a sole cousin was produced, was to a crazy physically abusive woman. He is always obsessing about different things. And I don’t mean like obsessing like we all do sometimes, but in a mentally ill way. He is an alcoholic and his daughter is estranged. Anyway, he’s another story.
My dad rarely gave her the time of day and then treated her with impatience and disrespect. She clung to this idea of family until her dying day at age 93. My father never amounted to much and always had his mother pushing him to do more with his life, all the way to her end. He had a lot of potential growing up and did well in the arts. He is very musically inclined and can play the piano and guitar. Even though he has rarely played either, he can pick up either instrument and awe.
He has always had a passion for writing and 20 years ago he found out about how successful some writers were with writing screenplays. He obsessed over one story for years and years and just drank and smoked pot and became further and further introverted over time and never professionally pursued writing of any form.
He worked with a railway company for 30 years and eventually got fired for drinking on the job. He went back to rebar from having held a rebar job in his 20s and is still doing that to this day. He is in his mid-50s, physically ailing from years of self-abuse with drugs and alcohol, and barely holds a job. He doesn’t own a single thing, lives pay cheque to pay cheque, has no friends, hasn’t a girlfriend in 14 years, doesn’t bathe regularly, gets routinely kicked out of establishments and apartments, and is just a full-blown crazy alcoholic with absolutely nothing going for him but a fantasy.
He did seem to have it together for a small handful of years. He met and married my mom when he was 23 (the same year, after I was born) and lived on and off together and had 3 kids over 10 years. My mom left him because he was crazy, emotional, verbally abusive, and who knows… I am no psychologist. That is why I am doing this.. For years I have wondered what affliction my dad may have. I have kept his emails and letters over years and some a really quite amazing. Perfect little glimpses in to his life. He is a storyteller so they are just that. But they are all true stories. Can you diagnose my dad?
I will be posting random emails and letters from my dad to the ‘Diagnose My Dad’ catagory. If anything, I hope you find it entertaining. All emails and letters are exactly as he has written them with only the names being changed and sometimes company names. ♪
dirtyburdyfricker 