Seems like its not worth it. What would be the best case scenario, closure? The guy’s said terrible things to you, you have a father figure already, you never really knew him, and its been years since you’ve spoken
I’m of the mind that blood is not thicker than water. You cannot choose who you’re related to, so those things are not your fault. Even Charles Manson had parents. If anyone you’re related to doesn’t do right by you, there’s no reason to keep them around
It’s a tough call. If the guy is going to be pleasant to you, I’d go. But unless you can be sure, I’d skip it.
The kids may later say, “How dare you keep me from visiting my grandfather, what gave you that right”? And they would have a point.
If you have something to say to him, better to get it off your chest, while you can, then spend the rest of your days wishing you could’ve said, what you need to say, while you still could have.
The fact you’re even asking this questions means you still are connected because if you weren’t you wouldn’t think twice about not going.
Of course if you wait too long the decision will be made for you
If you have on-demand with your cable company, watch the Gene Simmons Family Jewels episode where he stands over his father’s grave and realizes the mistake he made in not seeing his father before his death.
It’s heartbreaking.
Just go.
You should stay home and just send the kids.
I’d go. You might not get another chance.
If it turns out to be a waste of time, what are you really out? If it turns out well and you re-connect and have a few last meaningful words with each other both of you will profit from it.
Mostly what everone else said, though Depending on how old they are, give the kids the option to go if they wish to.
Peace to you,** Palo**.
OP: what did you do?
Ok, OP … srsly … you’re killin’ us here.
I was a bit surprised to find this thread as well as a few others http://www.caring.com/questions/how-to-talk-to-an-estranged-dying-parent
Estranged Parent Dying of Cancer - death resolved | Ask MetaFilter
on this same topic. Of course there is no one right answer for everyone.
I have been estranged from this man (I can hardly call him a father) for over 20 years - no contact what so ever, not a letter, a post card, a call - nothing. He was/is an alcoholic, and a deadbeat. Had this happened in today’s day and age, he would be serving jail time.
His brother called to inform us that he is in hospice with end stage lung cancer. His brother indicated that he wanted to reach out and his brother said that we may be shocked so he called. I question whether or not my “father” wanted to really see us, or his brother is pushing for it.
My brothers and I have decided to see him next week and I will post back to this forum as so many have given there time and advice (greatly appreciated).
I am debating as to what I will say/do when I see him. I am not sad, I have moved past this a long time ago…but I am still angry. Part of me is still bitter for what was lost.
I hold no illusion of a death bed apology or anything close to remorse on his part.
I feel compelled to look him in the eye and tell him how I really feel. What his dereliction, sustained selfishness and morale decay have done to his sons. And to tell him what a shame that he has not been in our lives and to know the wonderful people we have become or to know our wives and his grand children.
I don’t expect anything from him, and may even request that he not speak.
Many have told me “he probably knows what a piece of crap he has been” or “perhaps he is embarrassed and could not reach out” and although that may be true, I still feel compelled to say what I feel needs to be said…to his face. I don’t believe anyone in his life (we have uncles and aunts on his side) has ever provided him with raw feedback as to what his actions (or really, total lack there of) has impacted his sons.
That said, I take to heart many of the comments about never regretting being kind, but regretting not being kind enough. Likewise, I am the type of person that would afford a complete stranger that had been in an accident, or in hospice with kindness, care and concern. I feel empathy for people I have never met…why can’t I do the same for this man that is my father?
I worry that later in life I may regret being too blunt or harsh with a man on his death bed…but as my screen name suggest, I am still angry.
I guess I will just have to go and see how I feel when I see him. He is likely frail, thin and clearly near his end and perhaps that image will force me to be more compassionate (even though I feel he is not deserving of my compassion - others, sure, but not mine).
This whole situation is just crazy, my mind is racing, I’m losing sleep and in some way, I feel even his (or his brothers) request to see us is selfish. It would have been much easier for me had the call been to simply tell me that he had already passed…then I would not need to think or stress over it - it would be done.
Again, thank you all that have posted, although you intended your comments to support the topic starter, I have found them, and taken some to heart and found solace in the fact that (apparently) my situation is not unique in the least.
I will post back to the thread after December 11th, 2011 with my experiences and how the meeting went.
D.
I can’t begin to understand what you are feeling. But I would counsel against asking him not to speak. An apology at this point may not be useful, but t’were it me the curiousity would hit eventually, and hard, and probably never go away. What would he have said if I had let him?
Again, not that it will necessarily be useful, but just because it seems to me that the whole point is to avoid having anything left to wonder about.
Please do let us know how you are, and feel free to vent here as needed.
I promised this thread that I would write a detailed reply, so here goes.
First, thanks to all those that had posted replies/comments to the topic starter - your words definitely helped. After struggling and thinking about what I would say, and how I would comport myself, I decided to allow my father to speak (thank you TrueCelt), and to take the high road and allow him to dictate the direction our conversation would take.
He started by discussing banal pleasantries “how have you been”, to which I replied “quite well, but obviously you have seen better days”. I dispatched with the pleasantries quite quickly and stated that we both knew why I was here and why now - he is dying. He has always been emotionally reserved (that’s putting it mildly) but I thought if not now, when is he ever going to offer an emotional response. We talked about his shortcomings and failures and how they impacted his kids and how I felt about that. I refused to use the word father or dad with him and told him that in every sense of what the word “father” is supposed to mean, he has failed, failed miserably and he is not a “father” to me in any sense of the word.
I asked him why he has not contacted his children in 20+ years and he said there was no explanation. He repeated this mantra often - I have no explanation.
Knowing he would need to be pushed pretty hard to face the realities of his failures, I pressed and while looking him in the eye asked “don’t you have regrets, aren’t you sorry or ashamed” and he replied (this is verbatim) “who wouldn’t”. Even his response in that moment was evasive, non-committal and seemed to indicate that what we were talking about was some amorphous 3rd party and not his relationship with his children.
We kept talking and I pressed further “don’t you regret that” and he replied “my inaction yes” - I won’t bother airing our families dirty laundry here on this board, but he had plenty of “actions” and I reminded him of many of his actions, direct actions that hurt our family greatly (foreclosure on a home and willing to put your kids on the street is not “inaction”). I reminded him that he chose to not act, he chose to not reach out and those choices were action. That even inaction, is still a choice - he chose to not act.
I asked him about being in AA (he is supposedly 20 years sober) and the step “make amends” and whether he feels he has made amends to his children. He had no explanation. I asked if all his AA friends know he has kids and what they think about his lack of completion of the step to make amends and he said “only some know about my kids” - an indication that even in the closest circles, and in a place where one is to be as open and honest with themselves as ever (AA meetings), he was still keeping much inside and keeping some that are purportedly quite close to him, in the dark.
I asked about some of the incidents in our life (forcing us out of our home) and he began with some B.S. about the mortgage and the home being too big, and our mother being difficult. I told him, “I don’t have children, but you better believe that, no matter of impediments, walls or difficulties would keep me from being in their lives and that under no circumstances would it ever be acceptable to force my kids on to the street.” He had no answer or explanation, he did not even admit “I should have done more” - just his continued stream of self-rationalization, followed by denial and then locking it away never to be spoken of again.
I kept pressing, doing all I could to get him to utter the words “I am sorry”. I all but said “tell me you’re sorry” - as I wanted that to come from him, but felt that if he was merely parroting back what I wanted to hear, he would have done so disingenuously.
At the end of our conversation I told him "this will be the last time that we ever speak with one another, the last time that you will have to speak to me - are there any last words, anything you would like to say to me now” and he replied (again verbatim response, no editing by me) “nope, you said it all”.
I am not proud of this, but at that moment, feeling all the hurt, his refusal to even in his last weeks on this earth acknowledge that he hurt us, his refusal to give me what I so clearly wanted tohear, his unwillingness to say the simple phrase “I am sorry” -even to just admit to himself that he was wrong set me off. I had been pretty calm up to then, but in that moment I lashed out and called him a pathetic dying old man. It is how I felt. He is sad, pathetic and dying.
I then drank some coffee with my brothers and thought a bit more about the interaction and I began to feel a bit of remorse at lashing out at him and calling him a pathetic dying old man. I am a much better person than he is, and hurting him with my last words would not help me any and I regretted having let my emotions get the better of me, so I went back in to see him in his hospice room and simply said “I hope your last days on this earth are free from pain, that you find peace and you are surrounded by people that love you”. I am not one of those people that love him, so I will not be there in his last days.
All in all I was proud of how my brothers and I handled the situation, and content with the interaction, and my decisions to see him, what I said and how I said it.
What surprised me, or caught me off guard was just how much I wanted to hear the words “I am sorry”. I knew he would not be capable of saying those words, of giving that to me. I had no illusions what so ever, yet, still, the 10 year old boy inside was hurting so desperately, and needed so much to hear those words. It bothers me that I wanted to hear that so badly. It bothers me that even after all these years, after I have let all of the past go, here he was still withholding, lording something over me. I knew he would not say those words, but I guess I held out some hope, a dark distant ember of hope and desire that he would apologize, that he would be “real” and authentic in his dying days. And when it started to settle in that he simply would not, that he is incapable of emotional connectivity I became quite sad. Not sad for me, or my brothers, not sad over the past (all that is long gone) just sad over the entire situation. Sad for him that even in death he is incapable of showing true emotion, incapable of being authentic and real with himself – at least once before he dies.
To all those that find themselves in a similar situation and may be reading this post – please do whatever you think best for you. Look in to your heart and do whatever is going to give you the most peace, but understand that you may not get exactly what you want, but that is OK.
In the end, this meeting reaffirmed for me that this man was who I thought he was. It allowed me to (after 20+ years) sit back and say “yeah, he was that awful”. It removed any lingering doubt as to the kind of man he was, and although I wanted something else, this knowledge was valuable on its own.
Regards,
NoLongerAngry
Wow. thank you so much for sharing your experience with us.
It sounds as if you were dealing with a hollow man - a sociopath. A person truly incapable of remorse. I have experienced such a person, and I know the sheer impossibility of making them see what they have done.
I don’t know if it helps, but I’ve come to understand that it’s not a refusal, but an inability. They really are hollow inside in a way that we just can’t fathom. They honestly don’t get why anything they’ve done should be of concern to them, provided it doesn’t cause pain or inconvenience to themselves. And if it does, they will not think “I deserve this pain” but rather develop a resentment for whoever was the instrument of their suffering the consequences.
I could totally imagine him thinking “If my ex had just taken better care of those kids, they wouldn’t be here yelling at me now.”
They often wish to be seen as “good” people - mainly because this makes others more likely to support their ends. But they truly don’t feel any sense of accomplishment or satisfaction when they act in a “good” way.
I’m glad you got a final answer as to who he was. My advice is to try and move toward seeing this lack of conscience/empathy as if he’d been born with a missing limb. The malady is not without it’s horrors, though the sufferers never comprehend it. They don’t love, they never experience joy, they never know that good feeling after a hard day’s charitable work. They live their lives moving from one physical sensation to the next, and trying to do what others want them to in order to procure the good will that supports them.
I’m sorry you had to come away empty handed, but I honestly think an apology now would only have left you wondering.
This is what will bring you peace in the end. It’s not good, but it’s useful.
Thanks again for sharing - I foresee a great many Dopers in great pain being referred to your words, and finding excellent guidance there.
Thank you for your kind words TrueCelt - I really do appreciate it.
Odd dichotomy in that the relative anonymity of the net allows one to share so easily, while also allowing complete strangers to support, share and empathize with one another.
Regards,
(no longer)StillAngry
How did he “force [you] out of [your] home”? Did he personally foreclose on your home, or did he simply fail to give you enough money to pay for it? (From the second quoted paragraph it sounds like the latter.)
In the 70’s this was a fairly common divorce tactic. Support payments were based upon monthly outlay. Abandon family, let all loans lapse so that car, house, etc are gone, then monthly requirements will be much lower as will the assessed support payments. There was no penalty for having allowed the children to end up on the street.
They never say sorry before they leave. 
They just leave you to deal with whatever’s left.
That’s possible.
What I was driving at was that besides for the fact that we readers of these tales only see the kid’s side of the story, but the kids themselves frequently have only a vague grasp of these matters. Kids don’t know what type of financial arrangements their parents have made with each other, and they don’t know what their parents’ financial situation was. But they are acutely aware of the suffering that they went through and they are frequently well aware of whose fault the custodial parent thinks it is.
I’m not making any assertions about StillAngry’s situation, about which I obviously know nothing. But I can easily imagine other people who feel exactly like StillAngry and yet be totally wrong.
Suppose the mother was a profligate spender and the father simply couldn’t afford to keep her and the kids in the lifestyle that they preferred. And he was willing to help with the mortgage but felt they needed to downsize to a smaller house, but the ex-wife refused, neither side budged, and they got foreclosed. What do you do if you’re the father/ex-husband in that situation? I don’t think a man in that situation is a monster. But you can imagine the kids hate their father as kids and not want any contact, and then grow up thinking he’s every bit as evil as StillAngry thinks his father was.
So I asked the question.
I guess the real practical significance is that I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to encourage people to say nasty things to other people on their deathbeds based on one sided and possibly skewed presentations of facts.
To the first - A parent still ahs a responsibility to make sure his/her children are well cared for, even if that means going to a shelter ones self and allowing the rest ofthe family to take ones own place for the time being.
To the second, I don’t think anybody here did that; it’s quite an offensive assertion.
I disagree with you, at least in the circumstance I described.
IMHO browbeating a dying man into apologizing for being a jerk fits the bill. YMMV.
I don’t think it’s acceptable under any circumstances to allow one’s children to end up on the street. I can’t imagien my allowing this to happen to Celtling no matter what I had to suffer or whose “fault” it would be. It’s called parenthood. The requirement is not to be blameless in anything tragic that happens to one’s children. The requirement of a parent is to prevent tragedy in ones children’s lives by any means legally available.
Again, nobody browbeat or promoted browbeating. A dying man is soon free of his pain; the priority has to be the well-being of the living. IME parents get exactly what they earn from their children. (I’ll state the exception of mental illness on the part of the child.)