One More Day - A Descendents Father's Day
Lately, I listened to some old CDs I used to have. Actually, listened on YouTube. I don't know if I still have them. But one was the Cable Guy soundtrack (they gave them away), as well as the Surge CD. Actually, the Surge CD was two CDs; you were supposed to give one to your friend. Remember the ill-fated soda Surge? They tried to promote it with alternative music. The CDs are still out there. If you search eBay, you can find them for as much as $75. I own two because I didn't have any friends. Oh, and Millennium Hip Hop Party, a collection of 90s hip hop, for, well, partying, which was always a hit (go figure) at the few parties we hosted. These albums are time capsules from a better, more interesting time, about 25 years ago. Speaking of old music ...
It's time for my semi-annual posting of One More Day by the Descendents (whom I saw perform in Philadelphia many years ago). This is my Father's Day post. In case it isn't abundantly clear, my father was not a good father. Still isn't. The man literally hates me. I never knew why. He has a clear favorite in his three boys, the oldest (which is strange because he wanted to abort him). I recently was asked what I remembered about my dad and wrote that he was simply busy. He was. He wasn't around. It's probably better that he wasn't because he hated me. Contrast what I wrote with what my oldest brother wrote and you'll see clearly my father loved one of his sons but not the other two.
Maybe you think I'm exaggerating. No one actually hates their progeny, right? I disagree. Everyone is biased. Plenty of people don't want the children they get. (I think of the womanizing manly man kind of guy who gets, like, five girls instead of boys. Funny how his attitude toward women changes after having all those girls.) We think we can make them more like us, but we can't. You get what you get. You can modify their behavior, but their personalities are largely set in stone. I think God likes to throw curveballs at people with their kids sometimes. I got a curveball, too. God was like, "Give this one to Joshua over there. He's not doing anything." I love my son. I don't understand him all the time. He's not like me. But I love him to death. And that contrasts with how my father treated me. As an aside, the abortioner's creed of "my body, my choice," never rung true because a child has distinctly different DNA from both parents, so neither can say an unborn child is theirs. It belongs to God Who decided that child should enter the world. Most children are not like their parents in many ways, though they may resemble them physically (but not always). An unborn child is a product of two people and the will of God. Saying anything else is illogical. But I digress ...
This is part of the reason I feel God told me it was time to move on, move away, get a different job (sometimes we are comfortable, though miserable). I'll never heal when my father daily insults and berates me. To this day, I shy away from men who even remotely resemble my father. He is an abusive and cruel monster. (At least one of his sons turned out like him.) Though slowed by age, he has a sharp, cutting tongue. I recall my father spanking me only a handful of times. He didn't so much spank as he did beat me. I thought I was going to literally die. There was no love. No explanations. Only a brutal beating. And only if I broke something, which taught me that possessions were more important to him than anything else. That is still true.
I posted this song before. It remains true. Fathers are very important, regardless of what society says. Mothers teach children they are loved. Fathers teach children they are accepted. Fathers say, "This is who you are and I value, validate, and accept you." My father said, "This is who you are and I reject you." I would have been better off not having a father, unfortunately, because he did exactly what a father should not do.
I won't fully be at peace with the man until he's dead. Then, he will no longer hurt me. Oh, but he'll probably find a way. He'll cut me out of his will or something, if he even has one. No matter. What I needed he will never give me. I don't need one more day from my dad. I don't need money. I don't need direction. I don't need anything anymore. I learned to live without him, without anyone. That is my father's legacy.
I didn't learn how to be a man from my father. I didn't really learn anything but what I would later have to unlearn. I gravitated to my Heavenly Father instead. I wasn't even supposed to be born. My parents were using two forms of birth control when I was conceived. God wanted me here, even though my parents didn't. God taught me what I needed to know, even though my family abused me in nearly every conceivable way (physically, mentally, emotionally, verbally, and sexually). God loved me even when no one else did. And that is the lesson I learned from my family. Even though the world may hate me, God will always love me. He reached through eternity, saw me, and loved me from before time even began. I clung to my Heavenly Father and let go of my earthly father. (Psalm 27:10) As it is, I got a better deal anyway.
If you are reading this and don't understand because you had a good father, you are rich. Thank God for that blessing. Many people don't have what you have. Rejoice because you don't understand what I'm saying. If you have two loving parents, even better. Most of my life, I learned to do without what others had and took for granted. But, as I was reading a nonfiction book about a family that grew up with nearly nothing, I realized I had things they didn't have. (They even went to foster care for a time.) All of us are rich in someone else's eyes. Someone out there would kill to have what you have and take for granted. Always be thankful.
As for being a father, I am forever amazed by the journey. My son is smart and friendly, two qualities that will serve him well. We are working on some things. We all have things to work on, right? He reads and does math at a second-grade level. It's odd to see him sit quietly and read for an hour or two because he is normally not very quiet. His mom got him a bunch of the Chick tracts (which I had when I was a kid, which is how he became interested in them), and he is enthralled by them. They are a positive influence, and he even gave some to his friends. I hope to guide him in a godly way and help him find God's will for his life. That's all I really want. I may not be the greatest dad, but I'm all he has, so I will give it my best.
If you didn't have a good father, be a good father. Be the love you didn't have. Happy Father's Day. God loves you and wanted you to be born.
Lyrics:
Spent the last years
In denial of my grief
Because you hated me
Anyone could see
I'll always wonder
What I meant to you
And why you hated me
What I did to you
I can't get anywhere
Pretending that I don't care
Lying to everyone I see
When the only thing I needed was
One more day like yesterday
I'd pick you up, you'd put me down
Wish you were still around
For one more day like yesterday
With you
And in the end
We didn't have a thing to say
Still those games to play
Then you passed away
I'll always wonder
Why you had to leave
Why you hated me
Then laid the blame on me
Cold antiseptic stares
The smell of the sickroom air
Yeah, I let you go down there
The only child
Who never cared about
One more day like yesterday
I'd pick you up, You'd put me down
Wish you were still around
For one more day like yesterday
With you
I'll always wonder
If I could have meant more to you
I'll always wonder
If I could have done more for you
How could I just turn my back
How could I just walk away
How could I just close my eyes
And watch you die
We never got along
We never got a chance
To sing our song of love
I loved my daddy boy
Did you love your boy?
Oh, you feel so warm to me now
But it's cold in this room
Tomorrow they'll put you
In the ground
Then there's nothing I can
ever do to have
One more day like yesterday
I'd pick you up, you'd put me down
Wish you were still around
For one more day like yesterday
With you
***
Applied for about eight jobs so far. Got my first rejection letter. More coming, I suppose. Not fun, but part of the process.
Thank you for reading, and God bless.
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