Father's Day

This blog is not really about FTD, but since it is weighing on my mind today and I have FTD, I am going to write about it anyway. Some of us with FTD can appear selfish anyway, so today I will be. Before I am finished, I will get to a connection with FTD.

Today is Father's Day.  I could not figure out why this year, more than 20 years after his death, why it was hitting me so hard. That was when I remembered it was also his birthday. It would have been 83.

My dad did not have FTD nor dementia of any type. He did however have a brain tumor. Despite what some members of my family insist, it was a benign tumor, but it kept growing. Years before his death, he received radiation treatments that shrunk the tumor enough that it relieved the pressure and the symptoms. He refused surgery, even though the tumor was operable, because he could not be given a 100% guarantee that it would be successful and he could not accept any of the possible outcomes should it be less than a complete success. Are you getting the idea that he was just a tad stubborn? You would be right, but it was a whole lot more than a tad!

Ten years or so after the radiation treatments, the tumor regrew enough that the symptoms returned. He became clumsy, needing to walk with a walking stick, had great difficulty making decisions and constantly worried about things. Hmmm... does sound a lot like FTD, doesn't it? Amazing how so many brain diseases can mimic each other.

He would not discuss nor consider receiving treatment again. He decided to sell the old family home and move into a townhouse. I spent a week at his place, helping to organize and pack. He was relying on me for a lot of things by then even though I was living four hours away. He would call and talk just about everything over with me before making a decision. He began calling me "crutch" because he couldn't seem to do anything without my help or support.

It worked both ways though. I would do the same. I would call and talk things over with him all the time. He was the only one who would tell me like it was, no coddling, yet still gentle, wise and helpful. He would also drop everything and come for a visit when I needed some things done around the house.

On my birthday, 22 years ago, my father took his own life. He could no longer accept living with the effects of the brain tumor. I was angry for a long time because I knew he could have received treatments or surgery, angry that, now that we had such a close and wonderful relationship, he left me.

My dad was not always this considerate, affectionate and supportive man. I lived a life with two fathers. The first one was extremely controlling, critical, unyielding and demanding. He was verbally abusive to my mother and verbally and physically abusive to my sister and me. He made our lives miserable. My mother left us the summer before my senior year of high school, not offering to take my sister or me with her. That made things every worse. My sister was off to nursing school, so I was the only one for him to take everything out on. I moved out of his house the day before high school graduation and didn't look back.

Even though no longer living with him, he still managed to be judgmental and critical of me and my life. A year or so after moving out, I was hospitalized and was facing major surgery at the age of 18. He came to visit me the evening before the surgery. I worked at the same hospital and, of course had many friends there. One stopped by while he was there. My friend was ten years older than me and, yes, we had gone out on a few dates but we were more friends than anything else. My dad was very cold to him and lectured me for 15 minutes after he had left. Criticizing me for having someone that much older than me in my life and how he obviously only wanted me for sex. Uh, no... we hadn't gone there. Not a good thing, to upset your daughter so much the evening before major surgery.

A couple days after my surgery, I learned that his girlfriend had waited in the car while he had visited with and lectured me about having a friend so much older. Turned out that his girlfriend was one of my classmates. I guess he was transferring his feeling for her over to my relationship with my friend. It was after that when I closed my dad out of my life as much as possible for eight years.

When our daughter was born, I decided they deserved to know each other and that I would give him a chance. Turned out that I now had a totally different father. He adored my daughter and she adored him. He was now the supportive and loving man that I wished I had had all along. It was at this time that our wonderful relationship became to flourish. He and I talked all night one night while he was visiting and he apologized for the way he had been. He said to me "Why, when I had you out shooting, did you not just aim at me before pulling the trigger?" He had watched a made-for-tv movie about the Melendez brothers who killed their parents who were not nearly as bad as he was and it hit home. I explained that I was so desperate for his approval that I could not have done that.

My second dad was an amazing man and I am so thankful that I had those later years with him. He and my sister never connected on the level that he and I had in these later years, so she only ever had the first dad. I wish they could have known each other.

Now, I will relate this lengthy story back to FTD.  Now, after dealing with FTD for several years, I understand his decision to take his own life. He was a proud man who was a true jack-of-all-trades and lived an active, mostly outdoors, lifestyle. To become the man that the tumor was reducing him to was not something he could live with. He knew I would continue being his crutch and would take care of him no matter how bad his health, but he could not live with that either. I forgave him for being the first dad and I eventually forgave him for leaving me.

Happy Father's Day and Happy Birthday, Dad... I miss you and I love you... always and forever.