My earliest memory was my dud walking out the door when I was 3 years old. Not the best cognitive foundation to grow up on.
Didn’t hear from him again until I was 10 (45-ish years ago). He stopped by for an hour on a layover flight bringing a family he married into. Our mother was out of town on business. It was strange seeing myself, 3 siblings, and sitter on the couch and him, his wife and 3 or 4 step kids on the other side of the room huddled around him sitting on our recliner.
Only two times in my life I recall seeing him, a little over an hour combined. Apparently, he wasn’t around much before the divorce, being in the Air Force and an alcoholic.
Never got any phone calls, letters, cards, etc... us kids just got ghosted.
I got a couple of calls about a year ago with someone leaving messages that began with “This is your dad…” A sister gave him my number. That was beyond bizarre hearing a stranger call themselves my dad at 55 years of age.
I never called back. He never earned the right to call himself my dad. Biological father, sure, but being a dad is earned in my book.
He’s about 80 now and I hear he has heart disease and had a few bypass surgeries over the years. He was an alcoholic as I understand the story.
Our mother never got married again and I don’t recall her having any relationships after that. She never brought anyone home anyways.
At the age of 8, the Dolphins and Bob Griese became my step-daddy growing up.
What I find interesting over the years is if I see a movie where a small child loses their father, tears can come flowing, yet, I have no emotional connection to them. I assume because I never developed an emotional bond with my biological father, at least cognitively.
I used to envy friends that had a dad growing up, but I have heard some horrendous stories over the years about fathers that suck around. So it could of been better, but it could of been worse.
It was what it was and wasn’t, and it is what it is.