I think I’m a bit jealous of a dog. I watched my dad talk to his dog with such love and tenderness today. Spud (the dog) was struggling to get up the bottom step of the stairs and Dad picked him up, saying ‘oh my darling’ as he proceeded to cradle him like a baby. I watched him and wondered if he ever spoke to me or my brother in the same way. We often joke as a family that Dad loves Spud more than his actual children. And that’s fine because we’re grown ups now. But where the fuck was this attentive, tactile man when we were kids? And why isn’t he like it with his grand kids?

It’s annoying, but he’s never been any different so we’ve always just accepted it. Which has set the bar quite low. Every now and then my dad will tell a story from when we were kids and I feel like he’s just given me the most wonderful gift. Dad’s drank a lot of his memory away and was absent for years mentally. So sharing a memory gives me a sense of worth. It’s like I’m grateful because if he remembers, I must mean something to him. I think he’s disappointed me and broken my heart so much over the years that now even a small gesture impresses me. I’ve seen it in my brother, too. How his face lights up like Dad has been in some sort of deep sleep and has suddenly become lucid.

Has this given me ‘Daddy issues’? Probably. But considering I grew up with two emotionally unavailable parents and an abusive godfather, I don’t think I can fully blame Dad. I think it’s just fair to say I have ‘issues’. But I have enough self-awareness to own my problems and work on myself. I have a deep set feeling of inadequacy which has led me to be a people pleaser (for those I like) and I know I can be obsessive and jealous. So it should come as no surprise that I’m a bit jealous of Spud.

I feel guilty for people who have lost their Dad or for those who have never known their Dad. And I feel like a bit of a prick for being negative about my dad. I could have it much, much worse. I know he loves me. And like I’ve said before, he’s a great man. But he’s kind of like a mate that we support and try not to worry too much about. He’s in his own little world and it revolves around Spud. I can cope with it. I’m just relieved to see him sober and functioning. But fuck me, it’s depressing when you stop and think about it.

Despite everything he will remain on a pedestal and I will love him unconditionally forever. I’ll forgive myself for feeling a bit down on Father’s Day as I grieve the relationship I will never have and the years I lost. But I will also feel lucky that I enjoy his company and feel proud when I see myself in him. And I’m genuinely pleased for Spud, he really is adored.