My dad was a sick, twisted soul who abused me and my two younger brothers both physically and emotionally as kids. I was put in a foster home when I was 9 after the neighbors heard it and called the cops. My youngest brother was closed-fist beaten and bruised when he was 18. My middle brother was enslaved to the family business well into his 20's.
Over the years I've maintained an on-and-off again relationship with him. We've usually been able to pretend the gorilla in the room didn't exist and talk about everyday stuff instead. But any time I'd try to bring it up for some closure, he'd be full of excuses like I was very young and couldn't remember the situation accurately, or that the truly bad stuff was actually done by my step father (who was also abusive, but the truth is he was the "nice" one to me and mostly focused on my mom).
The last time I saw him was about 5 years ago. We went out to dinner with my GF and her family, during which he made a joking comment about my "manhood" because I don't like eating steak (which is also because of his abuse, ironically, but that's another story). Afterwards, as he drove away to head home (he lives several states away) I told my GF that I may never see him again, and that thought didn't make me feel sad at all.
Just over a couple years ago he was very disrespectful to me in emails, so finally I decided that he will always be an abuser and will never again be welcome in my life. So. ****ing. Done. I sent him an email that wasn't rude or hateful, but it pulled no punches in describing all of the major abusive things he did to me that I could remember, and made it clear that all I was really looking for was an acknowledgement and apology. Two weeks later he replied that I had a lot of words to say but very little standing to say them, and then made a generic statement of having "regret" for all of his "parental mistakes". I took it as more whitewash bullshit, just like always.
Fast forward to today. My only brother whose still in regular contact with him is telling me that he's been pissing blood and probably has prostate cancer. Same thing that took my grandpa. So naturally I can't help but second-guess whether or not I want to talk to him again. On one hand, once he's gone I'll never get that chance again. But on the other hand, I don't even know if I actually love him. There are some fond memories and I do try to remember them more than the other stuff, but at the end of the day that's not who he really was (and to an extent, is). Part of me thinks I'm probably not longing to talk to him, but instead I'm longing to talk to the father he should have been. The one he was supposed to be. The one that every child deserves. And the reality is, that's a father who I'll never be able to talk to, whether my real one is still alive or not. So what difference would it make? Wouldn't I be better off if I just hold him in my memory as having been a better father than he really was?
