Hey everyone out there in the blogosphere. For those who aren't on Facebook, here's the deal. A couple of weeks ago, my father found me and Ty on Facebook and requested to be friends. Meaning he could see our pictures and write messages and everything. After some deliberation, I decided to grant him that access, but only after I'd written down some things about how I felt, and what things would be like moving forward. It took me a couple of weeks (I've been busy!) but last night I posted it to him and to all of Facebook and am posting it here now.
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This must be the 5th or 6th edit of this letter. Not just because I'm a
bit of a perfectionist, though I am. But also because in the weeks
since my father found me on Facebook and requested to be friended, I've
been tremendously busy. That honest business – band practice, the run
up to NAB, playgroup birthday parties and post-birth baby showers, not
to mention a newborn baby – has kept this letter fairly low on the
priority list. It just kept getting pushed back, and a side consequence
of that was that I've had a lot of time to evaluate and re-evaluate
what I want this letter to accomplish.
I've finally concluded that I don't really know.
The first few versions started with condensed histories of the
(non)relationship with my father starting with the divorce when I was 4
years old. But that's pretty boring stuff unless you lived it. I had
one version where I threw in some stuff about my grandmother – his
mother. But that was getting off the subject. I conjured some good
catchphrases to use like “emotional contract” and taken everything deep
into analogy, which is where I tend to operate when writing. The
version before this had a greatest-hits list of my life since 1999,
including marriage, the Emmy, and the kids. But that all got very long
winded, and most everyone I know except my father already knows about that stuff.
And to top that all off, I'm not a pile-on kind of guy. When I hold all
the cards – which I clearly do in this situation – I'm not the kind of
guy who'll kick you in the nuts just to see the pain on your face.
There's so much I want him to know about my life, mostly because he had
absolutely nothing to do with it and can take no satisfaction from it.
Hey, I said I don't pile on, I never said I was perfect; I do have a
devilish tendency towards schadenfreude*.
Anyway, over this past couple of weeks, during my evaluation, I've come
to realize that I do want to let him into my life, but really, only as
an observer. I'm extremely proud of my life and my family and what I've
built over the years with the talent and opportunities God gave me, the
values and ethics my mother instilled in me, and the love and support
of my wife and children. Seriously, most days I think that it's hard to
imagine a better outcome for this life, given the initial conditions.
And I try my damnedest to not lose perspective on that. Think about it;
if I count my blessings:
I've got a beautiful wife that I'm head over heels in love with (she's
going to blush reading that). I have two beautiful, perfect daughters.
I have an amazing mother and a wonderful brother. I've got great
in-laws close by. I work at a job I love. I've won an Emmy (and been
nominated 3 other times). I got to live my Hollywood dream. I've got
dozens and dozens of good friends both here and around the world. I
live in a town I love. I play bass and sing in a rock'n'roll band.
When I talk about my life in broad terms, words like “amazing”, “love”,
“wonderful”, “incredible” come up so often, it's hard to be anything
but humble and grateful at the gifts I've been granted.
But now, let's cut to the chase.
Dad:
You haven't earned this, and you know it. Man-to-man, father-to-father,
you know that you have no real right to ask to be a part of our lives
in any way.
But I'm granting it to you anyway. I'm giving you this window into our
lives. The same access we grant the rest of the Internet, and perhaps a
touch more. Out of compassion and... well, call it genetic courtesy.
However, it's not without condition. There are some dos and don't s that go along with this.
First, no excuses, please, for any of your behavior over the past
nearly three decades. If there's one thing being a father has taught
me, it's that there's nothing – and I mean nothing on earth, in heaven,
or in hell – that could stand between me and my girls. So let's not
pretend that there were external forces tragically keeping you and I
apart. Whatever relationship we had or didn't have was
one-hundred-percent in your control, and I shan't entertain any
suggestion to the contrary.
Second, Mom is out of this. Whatever did or didn't happen in your
marriage or in your divorce or afterward is completely irrelevant. That
woman sacrificed and gave more in her life for her children than any
fifty random parents you could grab off the street combined. The things
she went without so that we could have what we did are, I'm certain,
quite beyond your comprehension. That's not really a slight, just a
fact.
Thirdly, don't get your hopes up about a face-to-face meeting any time
soon. If that ever happens, it will be at some far future date, but if
I had to put odds on it at the moment, I'd say it's more likely that
Han Solo would successfully navigate through an asteroid field.
Don't be surprised if any responses you get from me are a lot like this
letter – cold, distant, sarcastic, even snide. I have had a long time
to build up my “emotional armor” against you, and this kind of reaction
is how it manifests. I don't know if it'll ever come down, but it's a
fair bet that if it does, it will also be at some unknowable time in
the future.
Okay, so having said all that, I would like to say that you have not been without value to my life.
First and foremost, you've given me an outstanding example of what not
to do as a husband and father. But I think I've stomped your groin
enough about that for one letter, so I'll leave it at that.
Secondly, your genetic code has provided me with innate artistic and
musical abilities. Combined with my mother's encouragement to take
advantage of them, I've made an award-winning career out of the art,
and a very satisfying hobby out of the music. It's too early to tell
for sure, but I think that Sydney will continue this trend, and I
intend on encouraging her in this regard, as well.
Third, you introduced me to ABBA, whom I still love. (Shut up, the rest
of you – their continuing effect on pop music is immeasurable!)
You gave me access to computers, during the times we would visit, and
you usually had fairly up-to-date equipment and modem access. I learned
a lot during those times. In fact, one day at your apartment in
Bethany, I came up with a nonsense word password that I still use today.
And finally, your chance assignment to West Texas at the time of my
birth made me a Texan, something in which I now take great pride.
So now I will approve your friend request so you can see all the
pictures and videos of my amazing family and our journey through this
life.
I'll also tell you that Lynn has been blogging since she got pregnant
with Sydney, and even though not all of her old stuff has been
transferred to her new blog yet, there is a LOT of stuff to read at our
website: http://www.jarrodandlynn.com That will keep you busy for a while – she's a prolific writer, and a very good one!
I have a blog I almost never update, too, at http://www.jarrodandlynn.com/jrod_says Take a spin, see what there is to see.
If I were to keep revising this until it is The Ultimate Letter, it'll never be done. So much like animation - which is never finished, just abandoned – I will stop here.
Welcome to the show.
*scha⋅den⋅freu⋅de
–noun
satisfaction or pleasure felt at someone else's misfortune.
Origin:
1890–95; < G, equiv. to Schaden harm + Freude joy
