I would not know the difference between a dead father and an absent one. My father is thankfully still alive and if anything he was always hyper-present in my life. I have swung between resentment and gratitude for all that he has done and not done for me.
It is far from the perfect relationship but I cannot imagine a world where he did not exist. If a person has grown up experiencing an absent biological father and the death of the adoptive one, that can create a void that nothing can fill. I have seen this up close and reading this essay helped me understand what it feels to be in that person's shoes.
The loss of an absent father is complicated. It doesn’t always dominate, the way grief over a death might. It’s something you trip over, often when you are least expecting it.
I have seen some of this tripping up happen. A kid learning to ride the bike with his dad, a movie about a strong father daughter bond, an inside joke between a father and his adult son, a dad helping his daughter stow her luggage in the overhead bin of the plane - each event a speed bump, a reminder of what is absent and can never be. The choices between feeling sorry and a victim versus being brave and pretending dads are fairly redundant. Whichever the choice, there is a bit of bruising and wounding each time.
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