DAD
I was somewhere around one year old when my parents called it quits and decided to divorce. I lived with my mom until I was about eight, and from then on I lived with dad. I have very few memories of him prior to that.
Once I settled into my new life at dad’s house though, I thrived. My general health seemed better and, thanks to some much-needed childhood therapy, I started coming out of my shell more and even managed to make some friends at school. I joined the school band and, crazy as it sounds, I even agreed to be the campaign manager for one of my friends who ran for class president (or something like that).
I am so grateful for my dad and all of things he gave me and my sisters; a good start to our young lives.
He is one of the kindest, most giving humans I have ever known. Since about age nine to my late 30’s my dad and I were pretty close. We are both big sports fanatics, and always enjoy watching games and discussing the latest sports news. I would always hold the flashlight for him and hand him tools when he was working on the car. We share a joy of watching movies and listening to classic rock music.
You get the point, we’re buds. I love my dad.
But, for all we found in common, there’s two things my father and I do not see eye-to-eye on: religion and politics.
How it Got That Way
Dad’s story is sort of tragic, when I think about it. He was the only son born to parents who were either in poor physical or mental health at any given time, which forced him to grow up sooner than he should have had to. He tells stories of having to wash dishes, mow the lawn, and fix the family cars as early as seven years old, which to my gen x mind is pretty young.
To be fair though, the fixing cars part was his idea. He always loved taking things apart and putting them back together. So, when he decided to become a mechanic, and go into business with his brother-in-law, it was no surprise to anyone. When, a few years later, that business failed, he
applied for a job at Northrop Grumman and made his living building fighter jets for the government. He retired after 30 years on the job – around 2007.
During that time, he had three daughters, three failed marriages, lost both parents and his younger sister to disease, not to mention nearly every friend he was really close to. The only friend he had left, who was like a brother to him, died suddenly of cancer detected way too late, in 2012. I guess you could say it wasn’t really surprising for him to turn to religion in a major way to find comfort and community.
Dad was brought up Catholic, but once he left home he fell out of religion and stayed away from it with the exception of a short stint in the 80’s as a follower of Dr. Scott’s teachings (I’m sure he’s Google-able, if you’re curious). When he married his third wife, who was Christian, he found his way back to religion once again. He attended church with her during their marriage, and when that fell apart, he went back to Dr. Scott’s church, where it seemed like he found purpose and a feeling of being needed.
After a decade of giving them nearly all of his free time, he stopped attending the church but continued to watch their videos online. And from there, it wasn’t difficult for him to discover the dark world of conspiracy theory YouTube channels (thanks Google data collection and recommendation algorithm).
In my late teens/early twenties, I “converted” to Christianity for a little while because the people I hung out with all identified as Christian. However, I grew disillusioned with religion when one of those people tried to persuade me to disown my own mother because of her Pagan beliefs. I turned away from religion once and for all after I read the Bible.
Currently, I identify as an agnostic atheist. So, as my father slowly drifted back toward religion, I was slowly drifting further away from it.
As for politics, I’ve always identified with a humanistic view of the world, even before I knew how to describe it. I always thought my dad was someone who was fairly liberal when it came to social issues, and maybe more conservative on the fiscal issues. He worked with a fairly diverse group of people in the aerospace industry, and always seemed tolerant and welcoming. He easily made friends with people, from all different walks of life.
Then he retired and isolated himself in a world of end-times religiosity and far-right conspiracy theory.
Then Donald Trump was elected president, and it seemed like my dad lost touch with reality and, to a certain extent, with who he was; or at the very least with who I thought he was.
And, Now
It’s been nearly a year since my dad and I have had a real conversation.
Up until then we would call or text one another every other week or so to check in. He would drive up to San Jose to visit me every so often. We had fairly regular contact.
Then I started hearing from various family members that he’s sad we don’t talk anymore, and he wishes we weren’t “fighting.”
Fighting? I don’t understand where this is coming from. As far as I’m concerned, we’re cool. He just dropped off the radar one day and I didn’t know why. Is this a part of his disconnect with reality? Or am I the one disconnected from reality? Sure, we got into some heated discussions about politics a couple of times before he disappeared, but does that mean we don’t love each other anymore, or we can’t see or talk to each other at all?
I don’t like what spending time on the internet “researching the truth” seems to have done to him in recent years, and I’m struggling to come to terms with the possibility that my father is no longer the man I thought he was. Or maybe 9-year-old me saw him as the hero I needed and wanted him to be, rather than the everyday American white male that he was; and when it’s your father, it’s hard to see beyond that, until you do.
I know I’ve changed too. I’m a long way from that scared little girl. But in a world that seems hell-bent on dividing itself into hard-line tribes, I find myself wondering where the humanity went. Ultimately we all bleed red, we all want to feel loved, and special, and needed, but somehow, being “right” or in the “correct” tribe seems more important these days. Where did common decency and caring for one another as fellow human beings go?
I’m not sure I’ll ever have all the answers.
I just miss my Dad.
