Bury a Dream

I have reached a new point in life.

Two of my dearest friends have buried fathers in the last few months. I didn’t really wish anyone a happy Father’s Day yesterday. Not even my own dad. I don’t even know how to apologize to him, but I will. I’ll make up some stupid excuse and wish him a happy Father’s Day today.

I love my dad. He is a great man. He wasn’t always, but even when he wasn’t he gave 100% to his children. He was always a great dad, even when he was hard and rough around the edges and seemed eternally angry. Now, though, he is a great man. He is well off and helps his children. He honestly worries about the poor and the less fortunate. He still doesn’t talk nicely to everyone or even most, but he does care.

At some point, he started “adopting” girls whose names start with an “S” and end with an “ah.” There are a couple of “cousins” that ended up on the family cell phone plan and spending random holidays with the family, not to mention both of my actual sisters and my mother whose name also follows the pattern. There’s one girl who stands out among the others, though. She worked with/for my father and he took her under his wing and mentored her. From what I hear they actually became close enough that my father started applying some pressure on her then boyfriend, now husband, to step up and buy that girl a ring. If you could have seen my childhood, you’d be picking your jaw up off the ground. We have even been calling the portable gps “Smagella” because she talks at my father and he sometimes snaps at her and argues, but eventually comes around. I believe she is 6th child. As a grandfather now, he gets to learn another role.

Regardless, even when I was a kid and thought he was a jerk and I wanted nothing to do with the man, I can’t look back and say he didn’t love me or care about me or take care of me. What more could you ever ask for? Even then he was inspiring me to be a father. Now that I can see the great man he’s become, it is more acute.

However, today I ask you to help me bury a dream.

I am not settling. I am not giving up on my future children. I am not even making the cold statement that I no longer want children.

I am asking you to help me make the best of what I have. Will I ever meet the mother of my children? If I don’t, will I survive? I have no doubt that she exists. I did for a long while, but last week, that numbness was shattered and the blinders had to come off. It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone that made me think she may exist, but will I ever meet her? I may meet a great and wonderful woman who doesn’t want to have kids. Or can’t. Or already has enough children from another life.  Maybe I can’t have children.  It is terrifying to think that I could meet the greatest woman on the planet and have a deep and true and lasting love, then get sad on Father’s day.  Perhaps I’m not ready to find my ‘Liberty 5-3000’ yet.

However, I just want to be happy with whomever I have in my life. I want a beautiful, sarcastic yet tender woman who cares about everyone she meets, even if she never lets them know it. I want friends who let me ramble, and though they don’t really pay attention to every word I use and the complex subtleties I weave with words, listen closely enough to choose pearls of wisdom from my excited or sorrowful rants. I want to be happy with everything life offers. This is not settling, this is maximizing capital.

I need these dark moments that I want for more, to stop. One day I may be a great father. In the meantime I am ecstatic being “Uncle V.” I am happy to be the friend that people want to turn to in a moment of excitement and aren’t afraid to call in a moment of sadness. I want to be the friend that can look you in the eye and call you a retard and make you feel loved and supported and trusted and wonderful. I have all of those happy moments and roles, but these dark days keep coming.

Help me forget everything I don’t have but I want.

Help me forget everything I have but I don’t want.


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