Dear Dad, I Ain't Mad at You...

I grew up without my father in the traditional sense. He and my mother were not married when I was born, and to be honest, I am not really sure how their relationship started. I grew up on the east side of Gary, Indiana, right off of 6th Avenue. My father lived literally maybe about 10 minutes away on 13th Avenue. I don’t really have a lot of memories of us spending time together with the exception of a few visits to his side of the family’s house for holidays, and just sporadic visits here and there. I always enjoyed it, even though at times it was awkward for me not knowing everyone like I did on my mother’s side. I was able to get close to some of my cousins on my dad’s side and we’re still close to this day.

My mom never spoke ill of him to me. All I can remember is her telling me he lies a lot, but I really didn’t understand what she meant at the time. I often wondered what it would be like to have my dad growing up and teaching me things all the time. I didn’t have that experience, and I longed for it, but as time progressed, I accepted it for what it was. The only time that I can remember it really hitting me hard about him not being around, was after my friend’s birthday party in 5th grade. His dad took him and his friends to the toy store to buy him some things for his birthday. I felt really sad after that, and definitely jealous. I went home and my aunt and mother could tell something was wrong. I told them how I felt, and my aunt said “You wish your dad would do things like that for you?” I remember saying: “Yeah, I do.” One thing I can honestly say though, is that I did not grow up with any malice in my heart for him. I don’t know how that did not happen, as I had a reason for bitterness toward him.

Flash forward to adulthood.  When we started hanging out more, I had a lot of questions for him. As I began to speak to him, I really wanted to get to the root of why he wasn’t around a lot, or more proactive in us spending time together growing up. I noticed he really didn’t have an answer. I then realized (and I don’t mean this as a slight to him), is that he really did not have the emotional capacity or the communication skills to truly answer me like I needed. Everything he said was really vague. Even as I pressed him for answers, he just didn’t have anything for me. I accepted it for what it was, and I just started to focus on us spending time together when we could.

 As his health declined, I just made sure to be there for him as much as I could. I knew he felt some guilt about our non-existent relationship during my childhood.  I really just believed in my heart he did the best that he was capable of doing. He was part of that era when men really didn’t express themselves a lot or AT ALL.  (I know a lot of men still don’t express themselves or their emotions even now, but that’s a topic for a later time…stay focused). He probably had a lot more he wanted to say, but he just couldn’t find the words. I just decided to meet him where he was and just focused on appreciating our time together. When he passed, I was sad of course. I was sadder that I did not have enough emotional memories to draw upon. During his funeral, I did not shed a tear. It’s not because I did not want to or that I was not grieving…The emotional tie was just not there for me.

 Emotional investment, and creating memories is really a huge part of your child’s development. How will they remember you? What types of thoughts will they have when they think of the time you spent with them? I really didn’t have any with my dad. That’s why I value the time I spend with my son. Even through all of this, I still hold no ill will towards the man that helped make me. God has given me grace, and who am I to not give it to my father? One thing I do know for certain is that void in my heart is something my son will never experience.

John Lee Cox, I love you, and just know, I Ain’t Mad at You…rest well pops.