This Be The Verse
They fc uk you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fc uked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
By Philip Larkin.
Makes me weep, that does.
My Dad buggered off when I was 2. I saw him some Sundays when I was a kid, but that was it, apart from a visit when he was teaching in Borneo in 1981 (when I was getting on for 16), which his employers paid for.
I saw him reasonably regularly (usually he called when he wanted me to do something for him), until I was forced to give up driving on medical grounds. now, I only speak to him if I pick up the phone, or see him if someone takes me round.
I can understand he may not want to see me as whenever I did see him I used to lay into him for being an absent father, but I don't do that any more. He was a bsatard to my Mum, no bias here, he admits it: he used to play around all the time and was often out of his head on booze and cannabis and left her to do the housekeeping, cooking and childcare.
I thought things might change when my kids came along. I understood he may not engage with them as babies, but when they got older, I thought he would like to read to them (he's a retired EFL English teacher), encourage them to read and maybe play chess. But not a bit of it. He was not interested in the slightest.
Whenever we visited him, it was as if we were hindering his routine, preventing him from writing his books.
Try as I might to avoid it, I can see some of him in me and I hate myself for it. I haven't always been the best Dad to my boys and it causes me great anguish. I know I can't turn the clock back , but....
And now, as my Dad reaches the end of his life, family members are urging me to get in touch and make things up with him before it is too late, but I can't. They say I will regret it for the rest of my life if I don't, but I can't. There's just too much anguish, regret and self-loathing.
