He pretends I don’t exist, with this carefree air about him that disguises the turmoil I hope he feels. Whether it is turmoil over missing out, or if the turmoil is that I’m still here, I don’t think I’ll ever know, but I do know it has to be there. Otherwise, what has it all really been about for him all this time?
And we’ve never met, although we’ve been in the same building, the same room, even the same small airspace many different times. My wife and children are even genetically linked to this man, not that you would know it from the moments we’ve been close enough to have conversations that never existed.
I saw him in the grocery store once while I was with my oldest daughter, and I almost said, “That’s grandpa,” but I restrained myself for fear that she would call out “Grandpa!” and he would pretend not to know who she is. But he knows who she is, at least by sight. He could probably pick her out of a lineup if it came to that, but he will never acknowledge her, so her cries of “Grandpa!” would go unheeded and only serve to hurt her. I would never want to hurt my daughters.
Ironically, I think we have very similar personalities. By all accounts (second-hand, mind you), he has a wickedly wry sense of humor. Me too. By all accounts he is a big music buff. Me too. By all accounts he enjoys good-natured ribbing. Me too. And I see him with others. They laugh and chat, sharing memories and reminiscences that seem like good ones. People take to him very easily, but of course he knows everyone anyway, and that makes it all something that I keenly wish I had too. That an odd sort of camaraderie.
And others do that dance, you know the one. When you’re in a room with someone you’d rather not speak with but everyone else will speak to them and to you, just not ever at the same time. You speak to a group of people, and the other person is there chatting with another group. Then you do-si-do, you do the sidestep, and switch partners without asking, without touching, without speaking. Now he’s chatting with the group you just left, and you’re telling a joke to the people he just had laughing with abandon.
Yet, no one mentions it, that dance, that awkward moment when no one was talking and I caught his eye across the room, then quickly looked away, not for my sake, but for his. I know he doesn’t want to acknowledge my existence, so I make it easy for him, something that will never be easy for me. I detest the dance, the reason for the dance, the whole dance floor even. I abhor the reason for the lack of connection, the reason my children will never know their grandfather.
I don’t talk about it either. It’s not really my place. But I think about it. Every single time there’s a family gathering and we are both present. Every single time one of my children runs right by him and he doesn’t say hi. Every single time I could call him out on it but I don’t. Then I think about how he’s treated the people I love the most, and I wonder if I even want him to finally give credence to us, to eventually validate our existence. Is that someone I even want in our lives even if he did get past his issues?
To him, I don’t exist. So, perhaps to save myself the stress and pain, he won’t exist to me either. It would all be better that way, even though I wish it wouldn’t.
Sam
Sam's Online Journal 
I love this Sam. I do not speak to my Mother and have the same scenario going on in my world, sans the kids. She is the reason I never had any, she made me terrified to be a Mother. Thank you for this story that touched me and helped me feel like I’m not alone in my situation ❤
You’re welcome, Hillary. It’s so rough when our parents don’t try to appreciate what we appreciate, or to at least tolerate it because they love us. It’s toughest on the kids, though, because they’re the ones who are truly losing out in the whole scenario.
You’re never alone. That’s one thing I’ve realized by being out here. There’s always someone going through something similar.
Indeed there is 🙂 xoxo
xoxo
He really missed out on someone special. I am sorry.
This is such a precious comment. Thank you so much! I agree.
Holy shit. That’s some cold behavior. How’d you learn to live with that? Can’t help but ask.
I don’t know if I really ever learned to live with it. Every single time I see him I still get that same feeling, like WTF. You know? Judge me on my actions, not on what I look like.
Wait, his ignoring you is an exterior thing?
Not sure what you mean, but if you’re saying it’s because I’m black, then yes, it’s exterior.
… Jesus, I had no idea. Can’t imagine what that’s like. He’s your biological dad though? Are you an extra marital child or something? (You don’t have to answer, this is pretty personal. But Jesus.)
Um, no. He’s my father-in-law, and he was none too pleased when he found out his daughter was going to marry a black man. He hasn’t talked to her since, and he’s ignored me and our children since ever.
Ooohhhh okay now I get it. Actually that I did know, but you said father so I got confused. It’s shitty to judge what your children choose, or turn away from them for it. That’s not unconditional love, that’s superselfish. Boo.
I say Boo as well. I remember my daughter and I were in the grocery store and he was walking down the same aisle. I thought about calling him grandpa, but I didn’t want to start a scene. So sad. Boo indeed.
It’s so hurtful and just plain inhumane to ignore someone that way. Does he consider himself a christian? How far can you really go against the biology of welcoming the perpetuation of your own DNA. I guess in the old world, nature would make sure his lineage doesn’t survive. Though I guess that would mean your children don’t make it, that wouldn’t be ok. I didn’t think this through.
Lol. You know how to make me laugh even when it’s a delicate subject like this one. I seriously don’t know what he calls himself, Christian or not, but I know it isn’t right.
No, it’s really not. But he surely suffers from it, too. No level of comfort can ever produce such blunt behavior. It’s an impulsive, possessive reaction that has now been there for so long, he lost the balls to come back from it. What a coward, actually.
Agreed.
‘Funnily’ enough, I stumbled onto this post right after I got off the phone with my father who’s much like your father-in-law. He will swear up and down that he’s not a racist, but the stereotypes he holds true are nothing but cringe-worthy. I’m afraid he will never completely accept my husband, even though he has come around a bit since we had children.
My husband and I have been together for 8 years. He worked multiple jobs for years just so he could put me through university when my own father refused to pay a dime because of the choices I made. He’s an amazing father, an amazing husband and an amazing man.
I feel sorry for my dad that he can’t seem to have an open mind and get to know him. Just as I feel sorry for your father-in-law that he probably won’t know you.
Thank you for this post.
Thank you for sharing your own story. It always makes me feel a kinship when I can hear what someone else has gone through/is going through when it comes to tolerance, acceptance, and a lack thereof. I keep thinking that if he ever came around I might die of the shock. That’s how adamant he was to my wife when she told him she was going to be with me, regardless of what he said. And I keep thinking it’s his loss, but I can’t help thinking it’s a loss for my wife, myself, and our kids too, all because of his strong racial prejudice.
Thank you so much for coming by, for identifying, and for following my blog too. I hope you like more of what you read.