The holiday season always brings a mix of emotions for me. We often laugh about those relatives we’d rather avoid at family gatherings—the uncle who gets a bit too cozy after a few drinks, or the cousin who seems to observe more than engage. However, we rarely discuss the family members who have become estranged for various reasons.
Four years and two kids into this journey, you might think it would hurt less not to hear from my father during Christmas. You might assume I’d be used to the read receipts that go unanswered. Still, every year, as the holidays approach, the lump in my throat grows larger. It becomes increasingly difficult to ignore the charming family photos flooding social media—the ones showcasing babies snoozing on grandpa’s chest or families smiling together in matching pajamas.
My phone doesn’t buzz with questions about what my picky six-year-old daughter might like for Christmas. There’s no festive card to display on my fridge.
Fortunately, I’ve been blessed with a wonderful stepdad who has stepped in where my biological father has stepped out. He has provided the stability I needed and the love I sometimes didn’t feel I deserved.
Nonetheless, that hurt little girl who longs for her dad surfaces around this time of year. The same questions echo in my mind, creating a soundtrack I wish would vanish. “Why don’t you love me?” and “Am I not good enough?” are the mantras that have shaped my negative self-image.
The grief over the relationship I always envisioned hits me hard, making me question how a man can have four beautiful grandchildren and not know them at all. At this point, I don’t expect any changes. I don’t anticipate a Christmas miracle where my father shows up, and we share tears and hugs, embarking on a beautiful relationship. However, that doesn’t lessen the sting.
Life rarely aligns with the narrative of a heartwarming movie. Perhaps I should feel grateful. Of my father’s four children, I was the one he saw consistently growing up, even if those moments were often overshadowed by adult gatherings where he indulged in too much alcohol. At least I was included, right?
Years ago, I granted forgiveness. Anger has transitioned to sadness. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I have no control over this situation, but that realization doesn’t heal the wounds. What was once a gaping sore has turned into a minor scrape that still stings if I accidentally bump it.
This Christmas, I will cherish my kids, thankful for the joy I see on their faces as they unwrap their gifts. We’ll video chat with my mom, the only grandfather they know. I can rest easy, knowing I won’t put them through the emotional turmoil I’ve endured, even if I sometimes go overboard in my efforts to provide.
When they are older, I will tell them the truth. For now, I will take moments to process my feelings in private. After all, it’s not me who should feel sorry.
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In summary, navigating the complexities of family relationships, especially during the holidays, can be a challenge. The pain of estrangement lingers, but finding solace in new family dynamics and cherishing those who are present can bring comfort. Understanding and processing these emotions is vital for personal growth and healing.
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