Did you have a REAL DAD, or a distant/absent biological donor?
- Thread starter Jdeere562
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Dang... I need to go see my folks.
Both of my parents were great. It literally never occurred to me as a kid that my parents might split up. No one yelled at anyone, no one got hit (besides a well earned spanking or two), our opinions as kids were respected if not agreed with. Sacrifices were made for us and we got everything we needed even if we weren't well off.
These days are really hard for my dad as he is mostly deaf (he was a life long musician) and is losing his sight due to macular degeneration.
Both of my parents were great. It literally never occurred to me as a kid that my parents might split up. No one yelled at anyone, no one got hit (besides a well earned spanking or two), our opinions as kids were respected if not agreed with. Sacrifices were made for us and we got everything we needed even if we weren't well off.
These days are really hard for my dad as he is mostly deaf (he was a life long musician) and is losing his sight due to macular degeneration.
Real parents, same with my partner.
Her partents (bio) raised her from birth, but both had a checkered pasts before getting together. They both agreed to never bring up or discuss anything from their lives prior to meeting in their early 30's...and back in the 70s, you can imagine a lot was happening. This includes (but not limited to) failed marriages, abandoned children etc.
My parents are still together and alive. My dad's getting on in age and has influenced many of my decisions and choices in life, for better or worse. The latter of the two I continue to improve upon daily. He was always a spiteful, petty man who did things more for his own enjoyment/betterment than those of his wife or children. It was only because of my mother that the family stayed together. My older brothers (I'm the youngest of 4 boys) often fought with him growing up and expected he'd change his ways as he became a grandfather, but I always knew he wouldn't change...sadly, I was right.
These days when we go back to visit I don't argue or question him on his actions or behaviors. I know he has little time left on this earth, so I just nod in agreeance of the random things he does and says. I know he won't be around much longer and I'm ok with that.
Her partents (bio) raised her from birth, but both had a checkered pasts before getting together. They both agreed to never bring up or discuss anything from their lives prior to meeting in their early 30's...and back in the 70s, you can imagine a lot was happening. This includes (but not limited to) failed marriages, abandoned children etc.
My parents are still together and alive. My dad's getting on in age and has influenced many of my decisions and choices in life, for better or worse. The latter of the two I continue to improve upon daily. He was always a spiteful, petty man who did things more for his own enjoyment/betterment than those of his wife or children. It was only because of my mother that the family stayed together. My older brothers (I'm the youngest of 4 boys) often fought with him growing up and expected he'd change his ways as he became a grandfather, but I always knew he wouldn't change...sadly, I was right.
These days when we go back to visit I don't argue or question him on his actions or behaviors. I know he has little time left on this earth, so I just nod in agreeance of the random things he does and says. I know he won't be around much longer and I'm ok with that.
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My father was a real Dad, but absent not by his own choice, my mother was always hunting him down to start arguments with him or trying to get him thrown in jail for not being able to pay child support, she tried to turn us against him when she didn't get her way, he passed away 6 days before I turned 14, it really messed me up losing him, even to this day she calls him a drunk & a lot of other names I won't post on here, the thing is she drank just as much as him & nothing she can ever say about him will make me hate him, my Dad had a lot of pain he dealt with throughout his life, my mom made his life a living hell, she done the same to me, I think it's because I am a lot like him in many ways, I won't lie I once despised him based on the things my mom said about him, but I forgave him a long time ago for not being around, one because it wasn't his choice my mom went to extra links to get keep me & him from having a father son relationship, two because my mom is full of hatred she is still running the man down after all these years of him being gone & three because my mom has been abusive toward me & my sibling over the years, I'm 35 I can go mow her yard just to help her out & she will still insult me after I get done, not about the mowing but because I'm ugly to her because I am missing an eye & I don't wear a prosthetic because I could care less what the world thinks about the way I look, not going to lie the woman still puts me in tears because her hate is so strong towards me & my Dad, but the way I see it is my Dad was a great man to have someone so hateful running him down after all the years he's been gone, I choose to love him & not join her in her bitterness, Jonas Jr Beene was a hero, he served this country as a sargent in the Army, he served in the Marines, had a pilot license, was the best cement worker in the area he lived in & above all he was a great Dad, the few times I got to be around him when I was younger were all good memories, it hurts to talk about this, as a matter a fact I was crying earlier thinking about him, but I know it won't be long before I see him again & oh boy do we got some catching up to do. Sorry about the long post.
I have a father that had always told me, my older brother, and my younger sister, that we were mistakes. I even read a letter a few years ago that he sent to my aunt/God mother/his sister when I was 5 years old, that we were ALL mistakes. As far back as I remember (age 5) my dad abused us 3. He would get drunk every day after coming home from work, and weekends, and start beating us. He would hold his hand over my mouth and nose to stop me from screaming and breathing while he was beating me with a belt. When I was 7, my brother was 9, he would throw rice on the kitchen floor and make us kneel in it, wearing short pants and no shirt. He would make us hold our arms out and place an encyclopedia in each of our hands. He stood behind us with his belt wrapped around his hand, about 18" hanging with the buckle, and hit us with it when our arms would fall. This usually went on for 15 minutes or more.
At age 9 my step mom made Tortillas. That was the first time I had ever eaten them. I didn't like them and almost threw up. My dad told me to go wait in the shed for him (our usual punishment room). After he ate, he came out there and hit me in the head with a piece of wood. The next thing I know I was waking up in my bed at 2 or 3 AM. My head hurt so bad. I was cut very bad with a huge knot.
I was abused like this until I finally couldn't take it anymore. I left home at age 17, finished high school, and joined the Army. There were good times, when he wasn't drinking, which was very seldom. He did teach me about cars, racing, engine building, etc. He had his own heavy equipment operating company, and he taught me how to operate a lot of machines/tractors, etc.
The aforementioned abuse is not even scratching the surface. I can tell A LOT more if anyone wants to read it.
I NEVER raised a hand to my son, and NEVER touched him if he was bad. I took his privileges away as his punishment.
Oh, I forgot one other thing, I failed P.E. a few times in jr. high and high school because I wouldn't dress out. I didn't want anyone to see the wounds, whelps, and bruises on my legs, back, and other areas.
At age 9 my step mom made Tortillas. That was the first time I had ever eaten them. I didn't like them and almost threw up. My dad told me to go wait in the shed for him (our usual punishment room). After he ate, he came out there and hit me in the head with a piece of wood. The next thing I know I was waking up in my bed at 2 or 3 AM. My head hurt so bad. I was cut very bad with a huge knot.
I was abused like this until I finally couldn't take it anymore. I left home at age 17, finished high school, and joined the Army. There were good times, when he wasn't drinking, which was very seldom. He did teach me about cars, racing, engine building, etc. He had his own heavy equipment operating company, and he taught me how to operate a lot of machines/tractors, etc.
The aforementioned abuse is not even scratching the surface. I can tell A LOT more if anyone wants to read it.
I NEVER raised a hand to my son, and NEVER touched him if he was bad. I took his privileges away as his punishment.
Oh, I forgot one other thing, I failed P.E. a few times in jr. high and high school because I wouldn't dress out. I didn't want anyone to see the wounds, whelps, and bruises on my legs, back, and other areas.
I had a real father. A great man in many ways, and a real Dad to us. I lost him when he was 56. I was 27 at the time. Far too young, really. 30+ years later, I still miss him.
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Not sure if this will make any sense to you but it's ok to pity that woman. She is in a self-imposed prison and that hell she spews toward you is nothing compared to what she has going on inside. You aren't the cause even though it may seem it at times. Toughest part of mental illness can be the destruction that impairs relationships around the affected while all the attention is on the individual. The stronger, and more independent you become the harsher they lash out.
When it's a mother it's not so easy to simply cut ties. Stay lucid and always aware of the manipulation that comes with the disorder. It takes a tough man to be there under those conditions.
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I had a real dad.
He emigrated with my mom to Canada in 1956 from Northern Ireland. He was a typical Northern Irish man in so many ways.
He died in 2006 at age 74.
I miss him ( and my mom ) like crazy at times.
Getting choked up writing this actually and reading this thread.
I was a very lucky person to have them.
He emigrated with my mom to Canada in 1956 from Northern Ireland. He was a typical Northern Irish man in so many ways.
He died in 2006 at age 74.
I miss him ( and my mom ) like crazy at times.
Getting choked up writing this actually and reading this thread.
I was a very lucky person to have them.
Wow, it is rather interesting how everyone has such a different story.
My father was young when I was born, and we were best friends until he died. I clearly remember taking a Polaroid picture of him when he turned 30, and I was 10. I hope to come across that picture someday and restore it.
Quite simply, we a good family, had a lot of fun with my father, many laughs and good times.
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I had a real dad and he was awesome. My dad was self-employed and owned a bar and didn't drink and also a fuel truck business and had a huge garden and acreage which was really a type of small farm with livestock of different species. He taught us kids how to fix things and was a real do-it yourselfer. He died at 80 years of age. My mom is still doing good at 93. I am so happy my dad taught me how to be fair and honest and to work hard. I couldn't ask for a better father.
I think my father was a bit on the wild side until he got my mother pregnant and then they had to get married and he had to settle down. Settle down he did. He had some wild stories from after WW2 and his shenanigans. I guess he was kind of distant but that's how men were back then. My mother was a bit neurotic so it was good that my father was stoic. I don't think that I did a great job as a father to my kids but my daughter told me that I'm the reason that she didn't wind up a teen mother addicted to drugs like all of her friends. I'm more of a lead by example father than a great orator with words of wisdom.
No real dad here, my parents got separated when I was 4.
I was raised by grandma best Abuelita in the world. I did not excel in school until later on when I find out how to teach my brain.
I have seen my father few times in life, and I do get along w/ my aunt.
I was raised by grandma best Abuelita in the world. I did not excel in school until later on when I find out how to teach my brain.
I have seen my father few times in life, and I do get along w/ my aunt.
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The power of example thing in life ( teaching/raising kids ).
This topic is a real bummer… 
I had a real dad. Unfortunately he has checked out with the grandkids and would rather sit on his butt and drink beer. It’s like the death of Superman. It sucks. But that is alcoholism for you. It was more functional when he was younger. I mean I guess it is his life to live. It just sucks that my kids won’t ever know the guy I once knew. My mom isn’t much better. No alcohol but she definitely checked out and would rather do her own thing. My wife’s dad was donor so he isn’t around. But her mom is awesome. She is probably the best example of a parent and grandparent I could think of.
I had a real dad. Unfortunately he has checked out with the grandkids and would rather sit on his butt and drink beer. It’s like the death of Superman. It sucks. But that is alcoholism for you. It was more functional when he was younger. I mean I guess it is his life to live. It just sucks that my kids won’t ever know the guy I once knew. My mom isn’t much better. No alcohol but she definitely checked out and would rather do her own thing. My wife’s dad was donor so he isn’t around. But her mom is awesome. She is probably the best example of a parent and grandparent I could think of.
I had/have a *real* dad but he was extremely abusive (mom was slightly better but abusive as well because of the abuse from him.) Abusive to the point where my old-school-paddle-to-the-ass fifth grade teacher even sent me down to the school's nurse after she saw half my back bruised, who then called the cops.
I missed everything about growing up. Not missed like "I miss the memories." Missed like I had 1 friend, wasn't allowed to go anywhere or do anything. The moment I got home from school, I was to do nothing but read my text books from school. I literally memorized all of my textbooks every year. Never bought us presents, no birthday or holiday celebration. Giving/getting presents even now, 20 years later, is a completely foreign concept to me. I fake being happy to receive them because I don't know how to react when I do get one. Every night around 8-9p, I was to sit down on the floor and show him all of my homework or quizzes/test results. He'd check it over and god forbid if any questions were wrong. I ended up going to detention a lot because I was too scared to show my dad homework or tests where I had a question wrong.
Because of him, I hate to be touched. The only people I let touch me is family and the lady I'm dating. I don't even let friends touch me; not even a "good job" jab to the shoulder but they understand. I really have no attachment to anything mental or physical. Everything just comes and goes in my mind, there's very few people I keep in constant contact with.
I've talked to him probably two or three times in the past 6 years. One of those times I drove 3 hours to send him to the hospital for a surgery. At the end of that day, it took me a lot to not tell him I hope he dies on that table. Us kids don't really talk to my dad since the divorce/separation 15-ish years ago.
On the bright side, I did learn to be completely self sufficient. He really did instill some good knowledge in my head though with regards to life, job, and career. He just tried to instill that stuff too early and horrible wrong (like trying to make us do calculus in 3rd grade and then beating the **** out of us if we got a problem wrong.) Also, people screaming have no effect on me and nobody can scare or intimidate me worse than my parents. The only person that I have ever felt scared by was my company gunny (this guy always looked pissed off, even when he was drunk and laughing. His normal look made you feel like you did something wrong, even if he wasn't looking at you.) Bootcamp was a breeze too minus the physical part.
So I guess I had a real dad. A real *abusive* dad.
I missed everything about growing up. Not missed like "I miss the memories." Missed like I had 1 friend, wasn't allowed to go anywhere or do anything. The moment I got home from school, I was to do nothing but read my text books from school. I literally memorized all of my textbooks every year. Never bought us presents, no birthday or holiday celebration. Giving/getting presents even now, 20 years later, is a completely foreign concept to me. I fake being happy to receive them because I don't know how to react when I do get one. Every night around 8-9p, I was to sit down on the floor and show him all of my homework or quizzes/test results. He'd check it over and god forbid if any questions were wrong. I ended up going to detention a lot because I was too scared to show my dad homework or tests where I had a question wrong.
Because of him, I hate to be touched. The only people I let touch me is family and the lady I'm dating. I don't even let friends touch me; not even a "good job" jab to the shoulder but they understand. I really have no attachment to anything mental or physical. Everything just comes and goes in my mind, there's very few people I keep in constant contact with.
I've talked to him probably two or three times in the past 6 years. One of those times I drove 3 hours to send him to the hospital for a surgery. At the end of that day, it took me a lot to not tell him I hope he dies on that table. Us kids don't really talk to my dad since the divorce/separation 15-ish years ago.
On the bright side, I did learn to be completely self sufficient. He really did instill some good knowledge in my head though with regards to life, job, and career. He just tried to instill that stuff too early and horrible wrong (like trying to make us do calculus in 3rd grade and then beating the **** out of us if we got a problem wrong.) Also, people screaming have no effect on me and nobody can scare or intimidate me worse than my parents. The only person that I have ever felt scared by was my company gunny (this guy always looked pissed off, even when he was drunk and laughing. His normal look made you feel like you did something wrong, even if he wasn't looking at you.) Bootcamp was a breeze too minus the physical part.
So I guess I had a real dad. A real *abusive* dad.
My father was my biological dad. He worked several hours away and only came home on weekends so I was mostly raised by my mom. Dad did call every night to check on us.
We did not have much in common unfortunately.
We did not have much in common unfortunately.
Real dad very much into my life, education. He was a Syrian immigrant who became US citizen after I was born.
He would leave for extended times working abroad in places my mum did not want to take us. I would not see him for 3-6 month periods from 5th grade - 9th which was
He would leave for extended times working abroad in places my mum did not want to take us. I would not see him for 3-6 month periods from 5th grade - 9th which was
Real dad.. even better today. He did have a explosive temper growing up, me and my sisters have stories about buckets flying past us. But looking back he had tyroid issues and was the boss over a clothing factory, the older me sees the stress I bet he had. In addition to the farm and all the responsibilities. Different guy today, some of that is from my younger sister getting sick and eventually passing. At 72 it's weird to see him told moms hand and be attentive. Interesting to see what my boys says someday. I'm not perfect but I try to cage the same explosive temper.
My wife's dad disappeared one day when he going back into Laos from Thailand. She was living with him and he didn't pick her up on day. They say he was killed but she doesn't seem interested in looking into it. She probably has family from him over there. I won't say anything about her mom. Poor girl had a bad start but you'd never know.. from what I've seen at least two of her uncles took the place of dad.
My wife's dad disappeared one day when he going back into Laos from Thailand. She was living with him and he didn't pick her up on day. They say he was killed but she doesn't seem interested in looking into it. She probably has family from him over there. I won't say anything about her mom. Poor girl had a bad start but you'd never know.. from what I've seen at least two of her uncles took the place of dad.
