Although I couldn't quite say how at the time, my father's affair explained things to me, provided some central piece of the quiet puzzle that was our home. Sitting with him on the patio that evening, I thought: that's what the silence was about; that's where the veils of sadness and tension came from; that's why I never saw my parents hug, or explode with passion or emotion or rage: all the energy went into hiding things, keeping the lid on feelings. I found the story of my father's affair utterly surprising and utterly validating at the same time, and I remember sipping my drink on the patio and saying, simple, "Oh."
~Caroline Knapp, Drinking: A Love Story
Those of you who follow me on Twitter might have read a tweet a month of so ago in which I confessed I was reeling from something my father had told me the day before. Apropos of nothing, he made reference to his "mistress". Your...wha? I responded. "Well, I guess you'd call her that," he said. "We were having sex."
Now, it might be important to know that my father is 90 years old, if we're choosing to be charitable about his frame of mind. But he lives on his own. His short-term memory is a bit touch-and-go but he's lucid and sane and (mostly) reasonable.
So...his mistress.
You can probably imagine how I responded because it was the same, on a dramatically smaller scale, to D-Day.
Shock. You're...wha?
Fury.
Disgust.
Sadness.
This isn't the "mistress" we all knew about, the one who blew up my parent's marriage, the one who, he swears, was "just a friend". Nope, this is another one that preceded the secret friend. This one, he admits, was a physical affair. An actual mistress. A woman he worked with.
"Did Mom know?" I asked him.
No. No, she did not.
And therein lies my rage.
Because she deserved to know. She deserved to know exactly who she was married to. And, if she'd found out when I was old enough, I deserved to have the pleasure of helping her pack HIS bags and then taking her to the lawyer who, I would hope, would take HIM to the cleaners.
So yes, fury.
And disgust.
Sadness.
It was more than a month ago. Two weeks of not speaking to him at all, though prior to that I had called him daily and visited frequently.
And then, a phone call from my brother who "didn't want to know what this was about but wanted to remind you that dad is 90 so I don't want you to do something you'll regret."
Seriously.
The men in my life are the fucking KINGS of asking me to put aside my feelings in order to not make them uncomfortable. But always under the auspices of looking out for me. Of ensuring I don't "regret" my actions.
As if I hadn't thought of that.
So here I am.
He hasn't apologized for the pain he's caused.
He hasn't acknowledged that what he did was cruel and dishonest, though he did agree when I told him, to his face, that my mom deserved so much better than him.
And I doubt he will.
At 90, it's unlikely that he'll undergo any great reckoning. And yes, it happened decades ago. More than five decades ago, to be precise.
But, for me, it happened a month ago. Because a month ago, I realized, again, that my father is a coward. That he's kinda pathetic. That he never really learned a damn thing from the total hell he created when my mother discovered his secret friendship. That my mother deserved so much better than him.
Yes, he stopped cheating. He never cheated again, to hear him tell it.
And yes, my parents considered their marriage good, once they put it back together (absent my mother's knowledge of the previous sexual affair).
But, on behalf of my mother and myself, I don't have to be the dutiful daughter. I can set the terms for my relationship with my father based exclusively on what works for me. I feel relieved of any sense of responsibility. I will have a relationship with him because I want my children to have a relationship with him. But I will not hide his poor choices. I will not pretend that my father is anything but a self-centered man, though I've spent so many years ignoring that inconvenient truth.
I may soften over the next months. He is my father though this latest revelation has forced me to acknowledge that I have muted his faults over the years, that I have blurred his flaws.
A few years ago, I said to my husband, after being disappointed at my father's response to a request. "I guess my job is to forgive him for being who he is," I said.
"Our job is to forgive everyone for being who they are," he responded.
"I found the story of my father's affair utterly surprising and utterly validating at the same time, and I remember sipping my drink on the patio and saying, simple, "Oh.""
The kickass survival site for anyone who's ever been lied to, cheated on and left for dead.
Elle
ReplyDeleteIt’s amazing how that information can be both devastating and yet releases us of feeling it’s our fault! My biological father was so cruel to my mother. He had a marriage and a child when he began his affair with our mother. She was only 16 but she knew he was married and had a child but she got pregnant with my sister and they told the family they were married...4 years later I was born and 4 years later my sister was born. He was an alcoholic and he was always accusing her of cheating when in reality he was the cheater...on his first wife and then our mother...growing up we were told he never loved us nor wanted to pay support. This was the 60’s so laws didn’t help a single mother that was not married. My oldest sister always felt like their separation was her fault but I was only 6. My mother met and married a man shortly after that raised the three of us with love. My mother remained bitter most of her life... she didn’t know she loved our stepdad until he died after 30+years of marriage...what a waste of lifetime...I had to forgive both parents for the choices that they made and then many years later I had to forgive my own h for the choices he made...I’m still a work in progress but as we’re in our 60’s now, everything has changed and if if hadn’t I would be a divorced woman. My mother and father both gave me their story and each owned the responsibility of the failed relationship...I was an adult by then and I had therapy that helped me understand that I was not who I felt like because of their choices but I’m still a product of that knowledge...
Wow Theresa, that's a helluva story. Your stepfather sounds wonderful. I'm sure raising you was a great pleasure and privilege for him. And I'm so thrilled that all the work you've done has brought you to a place where you can see your past clearly and shed any responsibility for their choices. And where your present and future are clear too, thanks to your own boundaries. You are an incredible person.
DeleteI’m sorry for all the emotions this must bring up, Elle. I think we’re all most likely guilty of blurring the flaws of those we love. I only have speculation that my own father cheated. He was on an unaccompanied military tour while I was in elementary school and when he came home my parents split up briefly. He came back home, they worked things out, and they remained married till my mom passed away when I was 33. My mom never spoke of it to me but after finding out about my husband’s affair I had a dream in which my mom told me my dad had cheated. I spoke with my aunt (my mom’s youngest sister). who pretty much confirmed it. I’ve never asked you dad and it’s probably because I don’t want to face those kinds of feelings toward him.
ReplyDeleteYour husband’s comment about forgiving everyone for being who they are hit home. It’s tough sometimes to separate others’ actions from how they make us feel about ourselves. One major thing I’ve learned from all of this is that I spend a lot of time beating myself up or worrying myself over the actions of others when most of it has absolutely nothing to do with me. I’m by no means a master at forgiving but I’m working on accepting.
Yeah, I'm no master at it either. But accepting...I'm getting better at it.
DeleteI wish he had told my mother. They had worked through the emotional affair that followed the one he told me about. And I suspect, given that he didn't cheat again, he had learned a painful lesson. But keeping it from her was a mistake. It denied her agency and honesty.
Elle, I'm so sorry for how unsettling this news must have been for you. My adult children are unaware of my husband's 16+ year affair. They have voiced their suspicions over the years, wondering how his "work" meant more to him then being with family ( he worked abroad for 20 years - actually, as it turned out, he was retired for 8 years, living part-time in the Philippines with his OW ). I hate family secrets, but we are in our 70s now. My husband is becoming quite frail. I know if the truth were known, my kids would make some connections too - 'so that's why Mum is so thin', 'why she was so often teary'. And I think, like you, they would be angry and declare I deserved better too. But I feel my husband wants to finish his life well. He is a much more involved parent and grandparent now. So I will keep his secret. Thanks to Theresa and Dandelion for sharing their stories and wisdom,too. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteJenna,
DeleteMy children don't know either. And I confess that this experience of mine has made me wonder about "family secrets". I've always believed that I will tell them if they ever ask me point-blank -- and I suspect they will some day. But I will be able to tell them a story of resilience and determination and commitment and honesty.
Elle, I can just imagine how painful this disclosure was and will continue to be for you. It's like he pulled the plug off the drain you had already plugged up with the knowledge of his prior cheating because your parents made some peace with each other. My adult kids would not take the disclosure of my husband's cheating well if they knew. They are tightly bonded to me because he was gone a lot during their lives and he never called home to talk to us. The kids and I did talk about that and I addressed it with him only to hear him say stupid stuff like, "I was busy after being in the filed all day and then I went out with the other people." I was never a priority in his life and neither were the kids. I see my kids strive to be the best parent they can be using my husband and I as models which is sometimes painful but all of them seem to maintain a memory bank full of mostly good memories about their father and things they did with him. Like Jenna, I'm not planning to tell them about my pain that was caused by him. I do speak more candidly in their presence about being honest with their spouses, addressing conflict in a healthy way up front and being open to changing their lives to have a more stable marriage. I encourage them to make time for each other and to speak up if they feel an emotional distance from their spouses. I want to empower them to address relationship insecurities up front before they faced with what happened to me. Like Jenna said above, my husband appears to be sincere in his new approach to living a good life and spending quality time with our adult kids and grand kids. He is and always will be a selfish man who looks out for himself yet he continues to demonstrate that I am the most important person in his life. I wish this kind of scar on nobody. I am so sorry you are dealing with this now with your elderly father. He is who he is and your husbands comment is profound. May all of our journey's be safe and peaceful regardless of what the people in our world throw our way.
ReplyDeleteBG,
DeleteI think it's great that you're using your own experience to impart lessons to your kids without having to reveal where you learned those lessons too. They will make their own mistakes, of course. But if they can remember your advice to "be honest", etc, they might be able to avoid the most painful lessons.
BG, I work hard to encourage my children and grandchildren to have healthy relationships too. My father-in-law cheated on my MIL and I have such a fear of one of my children carrying on this wretched family 'tradition'. But my kids are very involved parents, love their family life and I babysit whenever I'm asked to ensure they have time away with their spouses. I have 7 grandkids and 3 are in their teens now. We talk about everything. I am initiating lots of conversations about boundary setting, the importance of being honest and true to your values, and what is not acceptable behaviour. I'm grateful I can pass on the lessons I've learned through this life-changing experience none of us signed up for!
DeleteIt never ceases to amaze me Elle, the wisdom found here from all the wonderful wounded souls who respond to your heartfelt posts. Thank you for being the catalyst that brings us all together.