Who's your daddy?

[Hope]

Who's your daddy and what does/did he do?


My dad is, Glenn. He served in Vietnam and later became a mechanical engineer.

He's retired now, living alone with his two beloved dogs.

He's obsessed with dogs and coffee and living the simple life.

I didn't have a relationship with him until I was 38. I'm the product of an affair he had on his first wife and kept secret from his second wife. Now that she's passed on it's ok to associate with me. I had hopes that we could become close, but he has made no effort really to get to know me. I messaged a lot at first, but I eventually got the picture.   

[Lexi Darling]

My dad is a retired computer programmer who went into that field just as it was starting to boom in the late 70s/early 80s. Before that he also served in Vietnam, though pretty briefly. He provided for my family while my mom stayed at home to raise me and my sister.

I always think about how weird it is that my fiance is also a computer programmer and I would like nothing more than to be a stay at home partner. We're like miniature versions of my parents and I don't know if that means anything.

My parents divorced in November 2001, but they remain on good terms and worked out an arrangement that would help my mom financially. Since then I still see my dad frequently, we both bond a lot over our mutual love of rock music. My dad raised me on classic rock and it is because of him that I love music, at least more so than my mom, who enjoys music only casually outside of Broadway.

He remarried and currently lives in a suburb close by with his wife and their dog, Snoop Dogg. Yes, that's his name, not Snoopy. Not named after the dog, but he is a dog named after the rapper named after the dog. Wrap your head around that.

[jimmy jazz]

My dad used to be a mechanic. Not long after I was born he had a breakdown and was sectioned. He has schizophrenia. He had just got married, got a house and was beginning to settle down and then that happened. It must have been very tough for him and my mom. Mental illness was also not as understood as it is now and he faced discrimination. As did I at school when kids found out he wasn't well.

My dad played the stay at home parent role when I was growing up and my mom worked as a nurse to support us all.

My dad is the sort of person who would do anything to help people he doesn't even know. It must have been hard for him what happened and I empathise more as I get older. He has a lung disease now and is getting on. I am very protective of him and love him very much. I try to tell him every day and give him a big hug as well as my mom. They are not perfect but I am very lucky to have had the parents I have.

[Guybrush]

My father is a renaissance man and also the kindest man I know. He has two engineering degrees and is also a local painter in the town where he and mom lives. He used to serve in the navy and then got engineering degrees in petroleum and boating (or what you call it). He started working for the government oil company and was part of what's called the oil adventure here, when Norway went from just some backwater to becoming one of the world's richest countries due to the discovery of oil.

In the 80s, he started working as a teacher for a while and then also started designing his own invention, an underwater oil rig connected to surface pontoons that oil tankers could dock to.

In the 90s, he got a manager's position in an oil company in the south of Norway, so we moved south from Stavanger. A little later, he got a position at a consultant firm back in Stavanger, but we kids were entrenched so we didn't move. The commute was like 3,5 hours drive, so my parents bought an apartment in Stavanger and he sometimes just stayed there during weekdays.

He also made a company to develop his own patent and had that as a side gig. When he inevitably burned out and got hospitalized for a short while in the later half of the 90s, he relinquished / sold some of the ownership only to have his patent tricked away from him. He represented himself in court and I believe he won, but it took years and I think the opportunities were gone. Still, some of his stuff did get built, like a rig they used for oil searching that was built by some Chinese firm, I believe.

After all that, he settled into his consultant work until he became a pensioner. On the side, he'd paint and do art and was for many years the president of the local art club. His most popular works are local scenes painted in an impressionistic style and his favourite painter is (or was at least) Monet.

As a person, he's a kindhearted stoic. I've never seen him get proper angry. Instead, the few times he tried, it seemed very unnatural/ fake 😄

The only negative thing I can say about him is he put all his time into work. Although I'm sure it must've happened, I can't remember playing with him and he was often away. So there's a connection there that we didn't have, but it was the 80s/90s. Still, he always had my back the few times I needed him.

He had a stroke a few years ago and now has limited vision on his left side and can no longer drive. It's slowed him down a bit. While I can't remember playing with him, he does play with his grandkids and is a silly, loving grandpa. Quite adorable, actually.

All in all, he's my hero and I vaguely hope I can live up to his example.

[degrassi.knoll]

My dad is a professional victim with a little dick. Likely deeply closeted, the type whose creative endeavors were never nurtured so became performatively "macho," but without a strong male role model in his upbringing, so it presents in nipple piercings and gay barbed wire tattoos lol. He lives in the same house he grew up in, and sleeps in the same bed my grandparents used before they died. Same mattress. Same linens. He was the middle child and the only boy, and my grandmother was sadistically abusive to him. I feel empathy for him, I can understand why he is the way he is, but I can't forgive nor make sense of the decisions he made regarding procreation and fatherhood. He made no effort to break the cycles of abuse, and in fact became a woman-beater on top of abusing his children. His handling of my brothers death makes me ill.

I spent my entire childhood trying to be just like him - I was a proud daddy's girl - and then the rest of my life trying to be exactly what he is not.

[ribbons]

^ And you somehow managed to become an amazing, compassionate human being in spite of him and many other obstacles besides. You should be extremely proud of yourself. <3

[Lisnaholic]

My dad was born in 1906 and was therefore the product of a rather distant era, and I only knew him as an old man, the way some of you might know your grandparents. He was a very silent, stoic soul, and I find it easiest to define him by what he didn't do:

Spoiler

He didn't initiate conversations, didn't mention his past, didn't show affection, but then, to his credit, he didn't blah on like some older people do about "Young kids today..." and he never complained about his poor health. His talent was to sit and accept in silence a world that seemed to have somehow caught him off-guard; a wife more competent than he was, a modern culture and four kids that he barely connected with. And that's how I remember him: sitting in an armchair while the rest of us would talk, joke, choose the t.v. channel, make plans, etc without really referring to him at all.

I'm going to say that he was probably a disappointed man, the kind of person that Roger Waters had in mind when he wrote, "Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way". Sadly he died before I was mature enough to reach out and discover who he really was inside; as the youngest child, I just absorbed the established, unspoken family attitude, "Dad's opinion, if expressed, would probably be laughably old-fashioned and wouldn't count for much anyway".

To warm up, just a little, such a bleak´picture, I'd like to mention a few things that I remember with fondness:-
(i) when I was small, he made for me a box for my collection of cigarette cards, then, more ambitiously, a toy petrol station for my cars.
(ii) once, he was badgered by my mum into taking me to a local park. Unusually, it was just me and him together, even more unusually, he held my hand to cross a street, and in the park we stood in companionable silence and watched the trains go by. 
(iii) alone of the family, I never once spoke to him in anger or exasperation.
(iv) when he had a severe skin problem on his back, he chose me as the one who would change the dressing for him. On alternate nights I applied cream to an ulcer of some kind, which (in my memory, at least) was about the size of an LP cover. Very typically of my dad, he didn't explain or refer to this problem, and even though it went on for about 9 months, there was only ONE occasion when he unbent sufficiently to ask me, "Is it getting any better?"

[close]

So that's my dad: he had a kind of unreachable quiet courage that nobody even noticed.

[jimmy jazz]

@Lisnaholic mate 🫂

[ribbons]

My dad was born in 1906 and was therefore the product of a rather distant era, and I only knew him as an old man, the way some of you might know your grandparents. He was a very silent, stoic soul, and I find it easiest to define him by what he didn't do:

Spoiler

He didn't initiate conversations, didn't mention his past, didn't show affection, but then, to his credit, he didn't blah on like some older people do about "Young kids today..." and he never complained about his poor health. His talent was to sit and accept in silence a world that seemed to have somehow caught him off-guard; a wife more competent than he was, a modern culture and four kids that he barely connected with. And that's how I remember him: sitting in an armchair while the rest of us would talk, joke, choose the t.v. channel, make plans, etc without really referring to him at all.

I'm going to say that he was probably a disappointed man, the kind of person that Roger Waters had in mind when he wrote, "Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way". Sadly he died before I was mature enough to reach out and discover who he really was inside; as the youngest child, I just absorbed the established, unspoken family attitude, "Dad's opinion, if expressed, would probably be laughably old-fashioned and wouldn't count for much anyway".

To warm up, just a little, such a bleak´picture, I'd like to mention a few things that I remember with fondness:-
(i) when I was small, he made for me a box for my collection of cigarette cards, then, more ambitiously, a toy petrol station for my cars.
(ii) once, he was badgered by my mum into taking me to a local park. Unusually, it was just me and him together, even more unusually, he held my hand to cross a street, and in the park we stood in companionable silence and watched the trains go by. 
(iii) alone of the family, I never once spoke to him in anger or exasperation.
(iv) when he had a severe skin problem on his back, he chose me as the one who would change the dressing for him. On alternate nights I applied cream to an ulcer of some kind, which (in my memory, at least) was about the size of an LP cover. Very typically of my dad, he didn't explain or refer to this problem, and even though it went on for about 9 months, there was only ONE occasion when he unbent sufficiently to ask me, "Is it getting any better?"

[close]

So that's my dad: he had a kind of unreachable quiet courage that nobody even noticed.

Wow.  What a wonderful, honest, touching portrait of your father, Lisna.  And I hope you don't mind me saying that (iv) made me well-up.  No surprise that your father found you to be the compassionate soul of the family. <3

[Guybrush]

Yes, thanks for sharing, @Mindy ,
@degrassi.knoll and @Lisnaholic ❤️

We have the quiet desperation types here too, but definitely seems more a feature of my grandparents generation.

My last surviving grandparent was my grandfather on my father's side. He died early 2007. In 2006, me and my wife (or new gf at that time) went and talked with him and he told us his life story and how he met grandma and how it was during the war, etc. It's the only proper conversation I've had with him where I felt like we really connected. I'm glad we got to have that before he passed.

I didn't get to have it with grandma as she slid into Alzheimer's just when I'd moved to Oslo to go to uni and she eventually (or rather quickly) became unable to speak.

[ribbons]

Glad you had that last chance to connect with your grandfather prior to his passing, Tore - but sorry to learn that you lost your grandma to Alzheimer's.  Such a horrible disease.  My children also lost their paternal grandmother to Alzheimer's - we were very close to her and watching her swift decline was a heartbreak. 

I also enjoyed reading all about your Dad, Tore - and it seems to me that you have more than lived up to his example.   

My last surviving grandparent was my maternal grandmother who died in 2005 of heart failure.  She emigrated while in her late teens from Trieste, Italy to the US, where she met and married my Irish grandfather.  My grandparents were always around as we grew up and were like another set of parents.

And speaking of Irish, @Mindy - I saw you and your Dad jamming together on your YouTube channel.  You're a good drummer!  Very cool to see!   

[Shhon]

And speaking of Irish, @Mindy - I saw you and your Dad jamming together on your YouTube channel.  You're a good drummer!  Very cool to see!   

Thanks for watching @ribbons! 

[Lisnaholic]

Just a quick thanks to everyone who has responded so kindly to the description of my dad. I hope to say a little more later today when I  have more time.

[grindy]

Just a quick thanks to everyone who has responded so kindly to the description of my dad. I hope to say a little more later today when I  have more time.

Looking forward to more. Fascinating portrait. People like this are always so mysterious to me.

[Lisnaholic]

Looking forward to more. Fascinating portrait. People like this are always so mysterious to me.

^ Thanks, grindy! That's kind of you. Actually, that wasn't really what I meant, but I might write more about my dad on another occasion.

My dad is a retired computer programmer who went into that field just as it was starting to boom in the late 70s/early 80s. Before that he also served in Vietnam, though pretty briefly. He provided for my family while my mom stayed at home to raise me and my sister.

^ Your Dad sounds like a person always ready to do the correct thing, Mrs. Waffles. The fact that he continued to support you all after his divorce says a lot about how much he valued you and his family.
Nice details about classic rock and Snoop Dogg, btw.

My dad used to be a mechanic. Not long after I was born he had a breakdown and was sectioned. He has schizophrenia. He had just got married, got a house and was beginning to settle down and then that happened. It must have been very tough for him and my mom. Mental illness was also not as understood as it is now and he faced discrimination. As did I at school when kids found out he wasn't well.

My dad played the stay at home parent role when I was growing up and my mom worked as a nurse to support us all.

My dad is the sort of person who would do anything to help people he doesn't even know. It must have been hard for him what happened and I empathise more as I get older. He has a lung disease now and is getting on. I am very protective of him and love him very much. I try to tell him every day and give him a big hug as well as my mom. They are not perfect but I am very lucky to have had the parents I have.

^ That is tough, jimmy jazz. I'm sorry to hear about the problem that you, your dad and your family have had to live through. You don't go into details, but I imagine there must have been so much heartbreak along the way for all of you.
Good news that you are clearly showing him affection: a hug is something, we hope, that penetrates through all manner of mental fog.

@Guybrush: You clearly have a stellar Dad ! I bet he would be so proud to be called  " a renaissance man" by his son! It's a pity you didn't share much time with him, but as you prob know now, as a Dad, it's not easy to strike the right balance between work and family. (I  tried to correct my own balance after my 10-year-old son told me, "You love your students more than you love me.")

@Mindy: Two more Dads in the 5-star category! Thanks for telling us something about the dynamics of your family, and congrats that it has worked out so well for you.

Wow.  What a wonderful, honest, touching portrait of your father, Lisna.  And I hope you don't mind me saying that (iv) made me well-up.  No surprise that your father found you to be the compassionate soul of the family. <3

Thanks ribbons ! I appreciate your, as always, very sympathetic reply. It's important to me that my Dad chose me to help him, but I should stress that I wasn't so special: just an unaggressive 12-year-old who noticed early that words said in haste could echo for a long time in a family. Also I hope I haven't given the impression that my family was unfeeling. In the case of my Mum for example, I'm sure there was once genuine affection for my Dad - it's just that after a marriage of 4 decades, "A love once new has now grown old".

Glad you had that last chance to connect with your grandfather prior to his passing, Tore - but sorry to learn that you lost your grandma to Alzheimer's.  Such a horrible disease.  My children also lost their paternal grandmother to Alzheimer's - we were very close to her and watching her swift decline was a heartbreak. 

My last surviving grandparent was my maternal grandmother who died in 2005 of heart failure.  She emigrated while in her late teens from Trieste, Italy to the US, where she met and married my Irish grandfather.  My grandparents were always around as we grew up and were like another set of parents.

^ I'm sorry you have now lost your grandparents, ribbons, but thanks for sharing a little bit of background about your family roots. It's strange to think how portentious some events are, like your grandmother leaving Italy when she was young.
The bit in bold: it sounds like you were lucky, especially if your grandparents were as nice to you as Guybrush's dad is to his grandchildren.