Disappointment

Today is Fathers Day 2019 and I write this with a heavy heart.  Growing up, my father showed me nothing but love.  He loved me and sacrificed for me as all good dads do.  He not only showed his love but also told it to me in words.  He encouraged me and told me how proud he was of me at every turn.  As I grew older, this made it hard for me to relate the cliched story of children, usually in their adult years, declaring that all they wanted from their dad was his love and acceptance and for him to be proud of them.  I had always felt both and come to cherish my dad all the more since so many seem to be lacking what I took for granted.   

Many years later as my dad entered his seventies, things began to change.  The fun loving man I once knew - the one that took me on countless bike rides and camping trips - was slowing replaced by a grumpy old man... and with good reason.  My mom died when she was 63 and he was 67.  Not only was she is his companion, she had also done all the cooking and cleaning for years.  Although he had mostly recovered from the stroke he had in his late 50's, the effects started to return.  This combined with smaller strokes and diabetes began to take a toll on first his balance and then his ability to walk and eventually his ability to even stand.  At the same time, he began to lose the dexterity of both hands in general, but especially in his left hand.  This made it extremely difficult to operate a phone, remote control, or computer.  Without the ability to stand or use his hands, simple tasks like getting dressed or even going to the bathroom became impossible.  One day at age 74, he woke up in his own home just like he had for the last 42 years, with no idea that it would be his last day there.  Then later that day, he had a fall resulting in a trip to the hospital.  From there he went to a series of assisted living facilities and eventually to a nursing home.   In short order, he lost control of his car, his finances, and even his home.  This (and the fact that it was literally my mom's deathbed charge to me) meant it was now all up to me and my sister to take care of him.

Early on, I adapted the mantra that I should do all I can to keep him "healthy, happy, and safe".  All my decisions regarding Dad were guided by this maxim.  I was soon to learn that I might have to settle for two out of three. I felt like so many times it fell to me to deliver the bad news to him.  "You can no longer drive."  "The assisted living cost this much money" "We need to change facilities again" ... and on and on and on.  Although in many cases, I was only the messenger, it begin to seem as though it was I who decreed all these things based on my will and wishes.   As a child, I never for a second had the sense that I was a disappointment to my dad.  He always demonstrated his pride and love for me and this continued well into my adult years.  Now, in the winter of his life, it was I that was forced to become the face of disappointment.   I believe that my sister and I did a good job of keeping him as healthy and safe as circumstances would allow.  I never seemed to be able, however, to make him happy - and this has been my greatest disappointment.

While I started this post and this thought process in June 2019, I did not finish it until January 2022 after having  time to process his passing in September 2019.

The F Word

 Yes, that one.  The "F bomb".  The one that some find amusing when they hear it from the very young or the very old.  The one that made several comedians and actors famous.  The one that the show "Battle Star Galactica" replaced with "frig" in all its literary glory.  The one that Saturday Night Live almost but didn't spell in their "Jingleheimer Junction" skit in 1998 (Season 24, Episode 1).  Ostensibly, the word is meant to mean "to make love".  While that is the cleanest and mildest definition, it is certainly not the only one.  While it's versatility is almost without equal, it is almost always used as a verbal underline or exclamation point.  Despite its versatility, in the U.S. the word is banned in certain media formats - usually based on time of day and type of broadcast.  The FCC (Federal Communications Commission) will fine any media outlet that airs the word outside of the defined context.  While still banned (or at least frowned upon) in many situations, it has become more and more acceptable to use it directly if not by abbreviations such as WTF.  So much so that even kids will often say "What the?"  and not finish the whole statement.  What the what, Timmy? You can't end a question with a question.

At the same time, another phrase has become more and more acceptable.  One may recall the final scene in "Planet of the Apes" where Taylor realizes what mankind has finally done and pleads with God to condemn mankind to eternal damnation.  Jeremiah Wright, a pastor, once came under fire when he suggested that America should be damned instead of blessed by God.  While shocking to many at the time, the phrase G.D. has become even more acceptable than the F word.  G.D. can be heard on prime time television, PG-13 movies, and public radio - whereas the F word is still avoided or bleeped out in those same contexts.  The ancient Jews revered the name of God so much that they removed the vowels from his name so that it could not be pronounced.  This helped to avoid violating the 2nd commandment: "Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain."  As a child, I was taught that this meant to always say his name in reverence and never without reference to God himself.  To even say "Oh my God!" was considered disrespectful.  

As I have grown in age and experience, I have long since learned that not everyone holds to these same tenants and beliefs.  Many grew up with the same teachings as I but have since discarded them and many more have never held to these beliefs to begin with.  I have heard almost every way of using both the F word as well as using the Lords name in vain both separately and together.  While I refuse to adopt either into my prudish vocabulary, I have long since stopped being shocked when others do.  Until today.

I read online where someone was thankful for a particular outcome and especially that it was not any worse than it was.  Who did they thank?  Did they thank God. No.  Did they thank "goodness".  No.  They said "Thank [f-word]". Are you kidding me?  I could not believe it.  Still cannot believe it.

I am starting to wonder if maybe Taylor and Wright may have been correct.  God help us all.