Shannon Fraser Realtor

Share your stories, your love, the pain, the triumphs. Your stories become a guiding light to others going through it now. 💙😔

This Father’s Day is hitting hard.

A few months ago, I found out my dad had died in October 2022. I learned my father was dead from a lawyer in voicemail for my sister. He wasn’t a part of my life for over 30 years.

It finally sunk in my daddy isn’t coming back for me.

I never understood it. I sure as hell didn’t at 16 when he moved out while we were at a basketball game. I didn’t understand it when he cancelled the insurance for the car I was driving when I turned 18. I didn’t understand it when he told me he wouldn’t help me pay for college unless I went to a Gordon State, near where he lived, not UGA where I’d been accepted. I didn’t at 21 when he told me if I wanted to see him I’d need to come to him. I sure as hell didn’t understand why he wouldn’t meet me at the mall or somewhere on more neutral ground.

I didn’t understand it years later when I started having professional success. I was worried he’d show up unannounced at a book signing. Then, truthfully, I was absolutely crushed when he did not.

He never, ever reached out to me. Not once. Not the 1st phonecall, letter, text, or email.

I still don’t understand it.

I have dear friends that to this day know nothing about my father. I have never mentioned him.

Why didn’t I reach out? The adult me thought about it many, many times. The little girl in me however, continued to be in charge of those emotions. I was scared of getting hurt again, or not measuring up again, of getting left again.

And, now I can’t. He’s dead. He died alone of sepsis, in his own poison. It breaks my heart.

I know he loved me, he just didn’t know how to do it, to say it, to be it. The expression “hurt people hurt people” is condensed, trite, and well, tragically truthful. His dad was a colonel in the army and demanded to be called colonel, even by his family, his son, his grandchildren.

My heart grieves for the younger me, but more than anything, really truly? I’m desperately sad for my dad. Tragic. He was just a hurt little boy.

Being human can be so hard and some folks are just better at it than others. If you weren’t given the tools to begin with, it’s almost impossible.

Bringing down the Happy Father’s Day vibe is not my intent. I’m joyful for those of you that had good relationships with their father, even if it is a bittersweet for me.

This message is for any dads out there that were in a nasty divorce, that had hard relationships with their own dad, that don’t know how to love or show love. Dads that lost the kids in custody and feel like all they are is a paycheck.

Love your child. Show them. Tell them. Don’t wait.

And, if you ever get grown up enough to get past your parents frailties? Try to be the person who breaks the chain of despair and sadness. Part of me will always wish I had tried.