by Robin Tidwell

Created on: April 14, 2008   Last Updated: March 07, 2011

My step-father was a part of my life almost as far back as I can remember; he and my mother married when I was six, and he adopted me when I was nine. He came from a paternally-oriented family, and those of his generation were quite strict and emotionless. Throughout the 1970s and 80s, when many fathers were becoming more liberal and open, my father only gave lip service to such qualities. In our home, children were generally to be seen and not heard; children were not allowed to have, let alone express, opinions - even if those opinions agreed with my father's. As far as I knew, my mother never made any decisions without first consulting with him.

Naturally, the sparks began to fly when I hit adolescence. Yes, I can accept blame for part of the issues, although he never did; once he beat me for saying a "bad" word (one which he used frequently, and in reference to the same subject as I had), but he never apologized. Ever, in over twenty years. What was interesting was that usually my opinions and remarks were nearly identical to his own - but I was still, according to my father, stepping out of line because I had given voice to those opinions.

As a young adult I would occasionally request a loan from him; this was so often accompanied by lectures that I finally stopped asking. Everything had a price, and frequently that price was too high. My father had definite ideas on gender-specific roles, and if one moved beyond his role he would quickly be jerked back into compliance, by fair means or foul. My father's presence was always looming in the background of any and all decisions and activities; one would nearly always ask, rhetorically, "what would Dad do?" or "what would Dad think?".

Oddly enough, as we both grew older, he began to recognize our similar philosophies and even some of his own mistakes and issues - but I don't believe he ever realized how the basic tenets of his upbringing and his underlying core of iron-handed rule ever truly affected him or anyone else or his relationships.

My father passed away almost seven years ago. He left behind a rather large estate that he had accumulated over a lifetime of appearing to be hard, cold, and ruthless, even with those he purported to love the most. Even so, he did his best to remain controlling beyond the grave, adding so many layers and pages and details to his last will and testament that even a myriad of lawyers apparently cannot agree on his final wishes.

Yes, there are times when I am still angry - furiously so, on occasion. Mostly I am able to leave it alone, and merely stop thinking about all the "what ifs" and the lost possibilities if only he'd been able to "let go", just a bit.

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