Wyndsong’s Sacred Place

So, saturday I find out that there are some big fires going on up in Northern California.  In fact, there’s a big fire in the city where my father lives.  I get reports that the entire town is or at least parts of it are gone, most of the city is evacuated, and it’s just getting worse.  It’s amazing how little accurate news you get about something in another state.

Turns out, that yes the fires are very near my father’s house, but not near enough for him to have been evacuated yet.  His wife had to stay in the larger city where she works one night, because the fires had cut off the routes into her town.  Other than that, they were fine.  It was a relief to hear, mostly because then I didn’t have to figure out how I was going to feel about my father being in danger.

I didn’t meet my father until I was 30 years old.  My mother and he got divorced while my mom was barely pregnant with me.  He never once tried to see me.  My whole life I wondered why, and I still don’t have that answer, though now it’s by choice.  When I finally did meet him, I didn’t  ask.  There will never be a good enough answer to that question, so there’s no reason to ask it.  At least that’s how I feel.

My birthday & Father’s day were always very hard for me growing  up.  My birthday, because I was born on my father’s birthday…. father’s day was hard for obvious reasons.  I still haven’t celebrated father’s day with my father, though I did send him a couple of e-cards a couple of times after we first me.  I celebrated one birthday with him.  That birthday is what started me backing away from him though.

You see, my oldest son was born on my birthday as well.  The three of us all share that day, no matter where we are, it’s our day.  I have always been very careful to celebrate with my son, but at the same time, making sure he had a special day to himself.  After all, he’s the kid, birthdays are meant for kids.  My birthday has always been special to me as well, so I make sure I get a special day for myself too.  Usually this happens the weekend before or after my actual birthday.  The actual day doesn’t have to be when I celebrate, actually I always liked having a celebration on a nother day, because then that made my birthday last longer!  LOL!  My father, however, did not share any of those sentiments.

He was quite upset that I was not going to be able to take a day off to spend time with him on his birthday.  The actual day was on a wednesday.  I had to work, which I kinda like, cuz then everyone says happy birthday, customers say it… I get treated special, so I’m never upset to work on my birthday.  When I told my father that, he was quite upset by it.  He couldn’t understand that I wasn’t doing everything in my power to get that day off, to be with him on his birthday.  Notice me saying “his birthday”.  It seemed that my father felt like my son and I sharing a birthday with him, was just another way of celebrating HIS birthday.  That kinda took me aback.

I was raised by a mother who really didn’t like birthdays, not that she had anything against them.  She just felt that birthdays were for children.  So generally she didn’t want any gifts on her birthday, but sometimes would ask her parents for a gift for one of us kids instead.  She wasn’t bein self sacrificing in any way, just she would get the most enjoyment out of getting something for her kids, rather than a gift for herself.  This is why my father’s attitude was so shocking to me.  How could a grandfather feel like his birthday was more important than his grandsons!  I just didn’t get it.  Which is why it was the beginning of the end, as far as my new relationship with my father, whom I never knew.

That wasn’t the final straw, but it was the first.  One of the final straws was when my father told me that he would have visited me more often if I hadn’t been living with my mother.  He had family in southern California.  In fact, his sister lived about a mile from us!  And he came to visit her several times without telling me.  I know that people do that to avoid confrontation, but I never forced him to confront my mother at any time.  I didn’t feel the need to make that happen.  There was no reason for him to worry about coming to my house.  I’m an adult, I had a car!  If he had just said he was down there, I would have come by to visit.  Or we could have met for lunch.  Something!  But instead, he just came down to visit his sister, and didn’t bother saying hello to me or the boys. 

I didn’t feel the need to continue a relationship with my father anymore, because of that.  Why should I put myself out there, when I”m not getting anything in return?  It still hurts, to know that my father could have worked just a little bit to keep a relationship going with me.  He chose not to do that, and I chose not to push it.  I chose to walk away from a relationship that would only hurt me further.

Then, after having delt with some of that hurt, I hear that my father may be in danger from these fires.  I wonder if I’d cry, if I heard that his house burnt down, or that he was evacuated.  Last year, there were horrible fires in southern California, and my neice was evacuated.  I was worried about her, and I cried a little because of worry (sometimes I hate that).  But would I feel the same way about my father?  How would I feel if he died?  Or was hurt badly?  Luckily, I didn’t have to find out what the answers to those questions were.

I called my half brother, and he told me that my father’s house was not in danger.  They were not evacuated, and the fires were not that close to their house.  The fires did destroy some houses not too far from my father’s place, but it was also getting contained, and would not be a continued threat.  I think I was more relieved that I didn’t have to face how I might feel about my father’s safety, more than to hear he was safe.  I guess that’s just to be expected. 

Father’s are strange to me.  I’ve never had one.  I guess, I never will.

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