Thread by @TheBrometheus

My father had it incredibly rough growing up.

Before he was born his mother left his father in the middle of the night and fled across the US, 3,000 miles. Took away his legal name. Didn’t give him a name until he was older. Got married and gave him his stepdad’s name.

Thread:

She told him his stepdad was his real father. His stepdad was violent and abusive. When my father was 15 he was tiny and thin, so his stepdad tried to sell him to the mafia who owned the nearby race track. Stepdad died before the deal went through.

My grandmother told my father “Don’t cry over him, he wasn’t your real dad anyway.” Told him his dad was a violent drug addict who committed suicide and his family was evil, and she was all he had so he shouldn’t go looking. He listened and obeyed her.

Years later he started to question her story. Pressured her for the truth. She kept changing it. His birth records were sealed and she wouldn’t help open them. Wouldn’t give him names. Silenced his siblings so they wouldn’t speak.

As death neared, she shared a name and city.

He agonized over whether or not to search. He’d been told his father was a brutal killer, a member of the mafia, a drug addict, and a suicide. That his family might kill my father and his kids out of bitterness and revenge.

After years, grandmother died. And he went looking.

He found out his father has been alive all along until my father was 45. He’d never had other children but told everyone he wished he had a son. Everyone called him a gentle man, he was known as one of the most Catholic men in his town. Everyone remembered him for being loving.

My father was crushed under grief and rage. His mother was dead so he could get no closure from five decades of lies and betrayal. His father had wanted him all along and died without knowing he existed. My father spiraled into despair and grief for years.

Because he’d been a workaholic all his life to uplift us from poverty (his father had been well off so our financial struggle proved to be unnecessary all along if grandmother had just stayed) he had massive heart issues from stress. Had a heart attack at 61. Quintuple bypass.

After six decades of lies and betrayal and grief he is finally coming out of his nightmare and enjoying his new grandchildren.

His story serves as a warning on many counts.

Choose the mother of your children carefully. You and your children could lose everything because of her.

Challenge your internal damage and fix it. My father didn’t know how to express love, only how to ensure the absence of hate. He was beaten regularly and almost sold and he knows these are wrong, but he knew no gentleness or warmth growing up so he struggled to give them to us.

Never settle for accepting word without verification. Trust but verify. Especially if trusting means closing a door forever.

A father does not have to be perfect or even present to leave a powerful legacy for his son to follow. My father found stories about his dad and learned about him so he could begin to walk in his footsteps at age 60. He’s trying to learn how to make his dad proud.

A father’s impact is forever. Even in their sixties your children will crave your love and approval. They will want to make you proud.

Fatherhood is forever.

Now go out there and apply these lessons. Today. While there’s still time.