I’m Not Your Father

 

(My artist grandchildren)

My father died a couple years ago. It didn’t end well because of his pathological narcissism. I’ve learned a lot more about this on several Instagrams by children of narcissists.  My mother in law to me was a severe narcissist- not admitted by her family who see her as sainted. My father always clearly knew he was the problem. There is a profound difference somehow-no one in my family missed that dad was very intelligent and very harmed and harming. His narcissism deserves poetry. Dirges. Pity. Disgust. Instead it got vaguely referenced by my spouse as he left at Christmas after it was revealed he was in a long term (then seemingly reproclaimed short term) affair with a former schoolboard member. I was told who by a family member. He would not confirm or deny. While my mouth hung open. He’s a school Super. Yeah that ain’t right. 40 years married and I thought he loved me. And always would. And worse he’s told me zip besides the sparsest of things and through now six months of completely disrespecting damaging traumatizing silence. But exiting he yelled, “ I’m not your father.” Sadly is he worse?

A person I truly loved in Ed Blogging I’ve refound on Facebook. She was Peg With Pen. Then. I love her. So much. Her searing honesty was so inspiring to me. Looked herself in the face as well as looked at the rest of it. Analyzed. Spoke out. Most people did not. Most teachers did not until a “pile on date” everybody arrived. Back in the day we wrote when our worst problems became nationally kids were being tested into oblivion so that the public schools could be politicized and broken-she was similarly willing to tell the complex truths. Ran an Opt Out movement. Sadly, despite pushback -school erosion mission was accomplished nationally-public schools weakened. NCLB and the advocacy didn’t address growing billionaires effectively. Their agenda. The real agenda. Now she’s filming short videos of dance, homesteading and narcissism.  How that all figured in her life understandings.   She honors the complexity -over the simple meme. Meanwhile at 66 as I face a marriage separation to someone so alien to me now and seemingly immoral I can’t sit with it-I’m also unwinding narcissists and their lifelong abuse. My own upbringing and the pain of my 40 year marriage to a person-who now says they are avoidant-seem to echo too broadly. It’s the zeitgeist-I’d like to start my return to blogging by saying narcissism is pretty rampant in the leadership we see everywhere, in politics, also in billionaires and the corporate world. But NPD is a bit more.  It’s stomping on a great many. But I think at a first pass before I research longer and work up pieces on this -ones I write with more integrity - I’d like to hold onto my father. For a second.  Because it’s close to Father’s Day. And because my spouse who is unfaithful and unashamed and who left me on a dime shares some broad qualities with my dad. But has many qualities not nearly the same. Some are worse. Some are better. Generalizations always exist to distract. 

My father grew up in East Tennessee. One of his sisters told me he was a young bully. I don’t know. I know he grew up in the depression in deep rural poverty. He was somewhat like my granddaughter Zazie born at the start of the pandemic. He was born at the start of the depression. And it shaped him immeasurably before he was old enough to grasp what that meant. Defining feature of his life. Later he became an economist. And an Ag. economist. Kenneth Galbraith would be what I would say was his perspective and mentor, and I saw him drive to coal tipple areas in West Virginia and give away food he grew. Completely unknown to anyone.  Dad was deeply informed by his poverty. Damaged by it and expressed both things. On a personal level he had the emotional maturity of a two year old. Truly. But he had a multitude of other variations and versions. In every personal relationship he had with his spouses or kids it was an absolute shit show. And everything we know of narcissistic abuse was in play. In learning he did have such amazing capacity. Brilliant college teacher. He often turned something around for me that allowed an insight. I can’t say much about him where if I’m thoughtful I can’t find some counterweight.  He did want validation and our reverence. And yet he told me to write. I doubt he read it -but he seemed to understand it was me processing. He read more of it than any family member besides my daughter. And if I crapped on him writing he seemed to convey he could take it. That he had a pride in my trying to stand for public education surprised me. It shouldn’t he absolutely was dedicated to public education especially landgrant colleges. He was “complicated.” No, he never cheated on one of his wives. (here my brother interjected after reading this-yes he cheated) But no saint he damaged at least three of his wives so very profoundly and discarded them. Not as I was blindsided and betrayed, discarded in a three or so day period, and humiliated publicly by a public affair, and then put into six months of silence. Blamed.  No -they knew he was leaving. They agreed. And they in some cases actually left him. ( again corrected-all left him) They could speak. He never asked one once or me once to not write or speak my truth. Again dad encouraged it. He wasn’t sneaking around going to have at it while my mom was in a hospital. Or after a meeting. He didn’t regularly tell me my humbled writing for kids was “hurting him” spurred on by a person taking down the house. Dad was the kind of person to look for a replacement well after he’d divorced. (Again my brother says I’m not remembering well)Turns out that puts him a bit higher on the spectrum of crapping on your family and wife. We were relieved when he walked out, over he was relieved. 

Hairsplitting but true. 

So turning over a great deal in my mind obviously I’ve had a harrowing six months. Lost a great deal of hope and belief in people.  Can no longer pray. And I’m mostly isolated in my house in grief sitting with betrayal trauma that brought my health to a complete and deadly crisis. I’m learning much more about trauma. Things I did not know abound. And I’m learning about the character and principles of those cheating, cheaters and those who pursue clearly married older men and why they do it.  About the lying and destruction of cheaters -the pain to spouses and family, and their projection when caught. And about those who repeatedly engage in it. The why. I’m sorting like my friend -why this narcissistic piece is raising its head on my individual level and what is it saying more broadly nationally and if I can reach inside and pull out some helpful meaning. Or maybe some karma I can release. Or if I can spiritually evolve a little. 

Some statements:

Dad did not make me suicidal. Betrayal and separation as a blindside did.  And dad would have stopped in his tracks if I said I was suicidal. And it’s a daily fight.

Dad didn’t cheat. (My brother says actually he did so…)

Dad wasn’t a rental slumlord. He never took advantage of those poorer or richer.  

Dad worked pretty hard - not nearly as hard as I did.  

Dad grew beautiful plants and taught me a world of botany. 

Dad loved ice cream  

Dad was never in debt. But taught me almost nothing about running a life financially. 

Dad fell apart if anything broke or needed fixed or serviced. 

Dad thought childhood mattered. 

Dad almost entirely lost one ear. 

Dad did not like to kill things hunting but was kind of reverse this on groundhogs and raccoons. 

Dad did not understand parenting  

Every person he married before 89 was a truly great person. Truly spectacular character. 

Dad found it hard to empathize. Maybe never fully achieved it in real time with actual people. Maybe with Howard  his brother.

Dad saved me at least once.  

Dad grew up using an outhouse and had showers when he went in the service on his brothers ID well below age. 

Dad had a very emotional and depressed mother who at the same time was caring and strong and childlike and curious.  

Dad could not see his own narcissism or his inner self. He could not take in others lives in fullness. He weaponized connection.

Dad wouldn’t have allowed a threat our way, Senile his last wife took his property and my kids inheritances. And was effective at being Wormtongue. But he was getting senile past 80  

Dad wouldn’t take responsibility for the harm he caused my mother. Ever.

Dad alienated his kids. He did not know how he did it -even if you told him. Clearly.

Dad valued my art. 

Dad first took me to art museums. 

Speaking of which my granddaughters went to an LA museum today. They remind me so much of my daughters and son at that age. It’s heart warming to see them there. At LACMA.