Update: I'm doing a shitty job as the son of a widowed father.
My mother was the more social one (as is often the case with couples). My dad is quieter, less outgoing, and certainly has tendencies towards being a loner. Without my mother around, those tendencies are exacerbated. But on the flip side of that coin.....he's clearly hungry for company, including our company.
My kids are both home for a couple of weeks, and he's relished any moment he can spend with them. We spent Christmas eve and Christmas day all together. But we've also been going full-speed since then, as my son's exchange brother had been in town, and we've been showing him around Texas. So, we haven't seen much of my dad. In trading messages the other day, he mentioned that he sure hoped to see the kids before they leave again.
My son had dinner with my dad last night. I went over there briefly after their dinner to fix his toilet (replaced a valve, took me 10 minutes, but I stayed and socialized for a few, and then left them together). A little while later, my son came home, and told me dinner was good.....but he's really worried about his grandfather. He could tell when he left that granddad wanted him to stay just a little bit longer. And he realizes that he's going to be out of the country the next six months......and maybe this is the last time he'll see his grandfather. He asked me to visit his granddad more often, on his behalf. And he came to me, held me tight, and cried.
And I felt like utter shit. I've been so busy working, and then exhausted when I get home. Then we traveled for an extended period right before the holidays, so we weren't around. And there's tension between him and my wife, so it makes it hard when it's just the three of us together. So, I haven't seen him enough.
My daughter is in even a more poignant spot -- she may not be home again until this time next year, so she knows that this may be her last visit with him. They are going to have lunch together on Thursday, and then on Friday, the night before she leaves, we'll all have a going away dinner together. That's also my mother's birthday. That night's gonna be really fucking hard, for all of us.
I told my daughter that I have to do better. She suggested just putting lunch on the calendar every week or two -- I go have lunch anyway, it's just as easy to meet him and visit for an hour during the week. And I need to do better about keeping to my plan of "dinner together on Sunday night."
He's going to join us for tonight's going away dinner for my son and his friend as well, and I think that's important.
Mostly, I'm here to confess. To unload my guilt. And to write something down that is a promise and commitment to myself to do more, to do better, to keep myself accountable with something in writing I can look back at. I aspire to be a good and kind person. But I fall far, far fucking short of what I should do. So let me be fucking angry at myself for a while, while I also try to do better going forward.
This life shit. It's hard.