FDR means Father's Day Rant.

15 June, 2003 || 19:32

You know, being a Christian on Father's Day is a pain sometimes. It's all fine until you get to church, and hear the sermon about the wonders of fatherhood, and see all these wonderful happy families going out and doing things together. Dammit, this hurts. It hurts like hell. Yeah, I know I've got a Father in Heaven who loves me, and I'm grateful for that. I really am. But quite frankly, it really blows when your earthly father doesn't care if you live or die.

Mom might say he cares, but I sure don't see it. I saw him once in high school, for twenty-two hours. Once.

This Christmas, I had forgotten to call until fairly late. It was 10:00 PM their time. I was on Hawai'ian time; I sorta forgot. Both he and his wife told me they wondered if I was going to call. I thought to myself "My phone number hasn't changed in ten years. At least, you could've called my house and gotten my cell phone number from Mom." But I said nothing.

Last year, I called him on Father's Day. My stepsister (for lack of a better word; she's his wife's daughter) didn't know who I was until I said "his *other* son". I used to be her older brother's best friend. She knows me. Or at least she did once. My eight-year-old half-brother didn't even know he had a half-brother living in Houston. That hurt. But I said nothing.

An hour and a half ago, I called him for Father's Day. For the second year running, my step-sister didn't recognize my name. But I said nothing.

I don't mean to talk smack about my dad; he's not a bad guy. And it's not as though he hasn't had a hard life; he has, especially now. I don't want to make it worse for him. I still even love him. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

At least I'm not bitter like I was not too long ago. I have developed in the last year or three a rather fatalistic ability to accept things as they stand and move on with life. And so I go to do that now. With a little Static-X to kickstart the process of forgetting.

...

Mom: "All this reminiscing... makes you wanna gag, doesn't it?"

Me: "I thought it was the sour milk smell."