How would you characterize your relationship with your father?

I don’t hate him, but definitely distant. That’s all I’d really like to say.

Pretty close. We like to talk business and other things and I think I’m the only one in the family who will really talk business with him. My sister belongs to my mom in the same way that I have a close relationship with my dad.

Before I make a big decesion in my life. I always think what would my Dad do. I also make sure I treat my wife just as good as my Dad treated my mother.

He wants to vicariously live through me. Problem is he doesn’t realize that I think differently and have different preferences.

Other than that it’s an awesome relationship, we are pretty close.

My stepfather and I were very distant when he first entered our family. I pretty much hated him for a long time because I felt like he was tryng to “replace” my father, who died only about a year and a 1/2 before my mom got engaged to him. Also, they went off to the bahamas and got married without telling anyone in our family, and that made EVERYONE furious. I didn’t speak to my mother for a while.

Now that i’m older and out of college, our relationship has gotten a bit better. Right now i’m working for him while I go to grad school, and it’s somewhat of a pain and i’m really starting to reconsider working with him. We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of issues, but overall our relationship has definitely gotten better than what it used to be.

Not normal. Many broken promises and ultimatums caused that.

Right up until his death this past October we were always close and shared many interests. He taught me so much growing up – I could never repay him.

That being said, we had a very different perspective on my mother. He was very willing to throw anyone under the bus to protect and excuse here pathological behavior – including me. He simply couldn’t risk being alone (as she was more than willing to show him the door should he dissent).

That certainly kept us from having a better relationship – but it was good just the same.

In spite of it, I miss him terribly.

My dad and I are close. My dad has always been on my side. He was my little league coach, scout leader, and very involved with me growing up. He always got me out of jail. He is also my boss in the construction business. That part is good and bad because at times family matters carry over to the workday but I can take off work whenever I want. My dad is a all around good guy. I’ve never seen him drunk or beating on my mom or sisters. We’ve been on several fishing trips in the Gulf of Mexico. We went on a fishing trip this last summer. Dad and I got all kinds of guns and we love to go target and clay shooting together. I refuse however to discuss religion and politics him because he is a staunch republican and christian. I would just rather not discuss those two issues with him because its pointless to argue with the man.

Since he stopped drinking and I stopped resenting him for his lack of participation in my childhood, we’ve managed to establish a good relationship. We’re not close, but stay in touch and get along well.

I guess you could say it was distant, since I never met him. I’m not actually sure who he was.

Dead. As in, he is.

I love him and often wish I could have had a talk with him as the me I am now rather than the me I was when he died more than 30 years ago.

He was a difficult and troubled person. I had issues to work through, which I have. I now view him as a wounded person doing the best he could.

I have never met my father. My birth mother refused to tell her family who he was or even if she knew the man. All she said, from what I’ve been told, is, “I think he was Italian,” and “It only happened once.” She was an extremely timid woman, and the sanest of my aunts believes that whatever happened that got me conceived was non-consensual.

Fluther will have to charge me for a session if I say anymore, so I’ll leave it at that.

very interesting moment to ask me something like that

my dad is a very conservative, traditional type of guy who lives in a completely different century. He’s taught me things like honesty and honour, respect and discipline. Yes, that type of guy. I’m surprised he’s not some military man, because he’d certainly fit the bill. Funilly enough, he was actually a deserter, which is one of many paradoxes in his character. Despite being a strict father, he was always pretty cool about my relatioships, and despite having a strict moral code, he is far from religious. He is also very tolerant towards people who are different, which is hard to find in his generation (or at least people who think like him).

My relationship with him had always been one of respect, though slightly distant, and antagonism at times. I never lived up to his expectations, whatever I did was never good enough for him. When I was at university I was the best student in my year, and won a scholarship. His reaction is that he assumed my university can’t be that good if I am the best student in it.

He has only admitted being proud of me twice. He never actually said the words, but by the way he supported me it was obvious. The first time was when I actually went to that other university and I had trouble with an assignment, and he called me to give me courage and wish me luck and so on. The second was recently, when amidst all sorts of troubles that I’ve been having, he was the only person that offered me full support, no matter what. Not only said it (many people did), but actually proved it every step of the way. So we’ve come a lot closer in the last few months than ever before.

No one has ever known this. You, on Fluther, are exclusive.
OK, I’m a six year old chap. My dad takes me out to go ice-fishing, well, this is Minnesota, and it’s the middle of January, So, Ice -Fishing it is. No house, no shelter, just the splayed out frozen landscape. He, a Thermos of hot coffee and brandy, Me, he gives a bottle of Orange Crush pop. with a straw, stuck into the snow.
Excuse me, but, watching his thermos steam as he sips the brew, I’m on the frozen lake, 10 degrees below O, drinking a cold pop, and, I’m not supposed to get the shivers?
That is my Dad.
Why was I born?
He always said, “I am a weakling with no balls”
Again, “Why was I born?”

Unbelievably wonderful. He loved me unconditionally and supported me in every way. He taught me there was nothing I couldn’t do and taught me that life was only going to give you back what you put in to it. He gave me wings and let me fly, always reminding me that the door to the nest was still open. He held me to a very high standard as far as behavior & academics; but I never minded. The respect we held for each other was a source of great strength for me. I have often said he is the best gift I ever got (aside from my kids).

He was larger than life and I loved that about him, he was a man among men. He was funny, and the life of the party. He was hard working and very smart, loyal to a fault to his friends, family, and employees. He taught me to be accepting but discerning and gave me a beautiful example to follow where friendships are concerned. I miss him every day of my life; and will always be my fathers daughter. now my Mother…that’s a long story

My father passed away from cancer in 2000. When he was alive, we had a very good relationship. He was the most generous person I ever knew. He always took time out from a busy schedule to spend time with my brothers and I and he raised us very well throughout our younger lives. I still miss him very much even today.

My dad was a natural father. I was the first child and my mother was pregnant again within 2 mos so we were constant companions for the first couple of years. Within the next 12 years there were 6 kids and I was always Dad’s right hand. He was the primary caregiver so he taught us all to pull together to survive as a family. During my early teens, my mother began to fall apart. (she found family life very difficult and began to self-medicate to deal with it)

My father was working 2 jobs by then and did not recognize what was going on. He wouldn’t hear any criticism of his wife, that was just the way he was raised.

When I was 16 she was out of control and attempted to beat my 5 yo sister with a broom handle. I was 6 inches taller and physically stronger so I grabbed the handle and took it away from her. I don’t know what she told my father but he said if I ever attacked her again, he would throw me out of the house. We barely spoke over the next couple of years but she never went after the younger kids again.

I left home immediately after I turned 18. A lot of the contribution I made in taking care of the kids, shopping, cooking and cleaning then fell on my mother’s shoulders and the marriage imploded within a year.

My father had to come to me for a place to stay and eventually had to take custody of the other children because social services found they were being neglected. Although he had to depend on me for financial support it took years before we were really close again. I have a tendency to speak straight and sometimes people want a sugar coating.

By the time Dad retired we were more in synch again. He saw that I had dealt with a lot without asking for much. I became ill the year he died and I later found out how concerned and in tune with me that he was. He wanted me to be with him as he was dying even just sitting beside him while he slept more and more. I learned later that he asked my stepmother to watch out for me because he felt my undiagnosed illness was cancer (which it was).

In the end we were spiritually as close as 2 people could be.

He’s dead, how much of a relationship could there be?
Even when I was a baby I would squirm when he held me, I didn’t like him. He was just sort of useless in my life, except for the role he played in my existence he had a walk-on part with no billing.

Me and my dad have an awesome relationship. I have always admired how hard of a worker he is and how much he did for me and my family. He’s out up with so much crap from my brother and from other family members and it was all like water off a duck’s back.

I feel deeply for those of you who have a negative relationship with your fathers.

:-(

What about those of us who are neutral, elchoo? :)

I am at heart a Daddy’s girl.
He passed away in October.

He was the only person who was proud of me despite my mistakes.
The only person who loved me unconditionally.
My relationship with my dad goes beyond words, far into meaning.
I consider myself lucky for this, though he’s no longer breathing.

One situation to describe is when I was around 10 or 11. I found the court documents from my mother’s custody battle over my brother with her ex, his father. And shortly after found the adoption papers for my brother (my father adopted my brother, for my mother). My mom was never planning on telling me my brother was actually only my half-brother, that we didn’t have the same dad and all the things that happened with his biological father. After I had read and seen these things from snooping around, I knew I had to tell someone. It effected me more emotionally than I thought it would. I turned to my dad. Told him I had snuck around, found them, and knew. I asked him if he was mad at me and made him reassure me over and over again that he wasn’t. He wasn’t, in the slightest. Then I made him promise he would never tell my mother I found them. I was deathly afraid she would beat me for it, she’s rash, especially about things she keeps private. I knew she would hurt me and blow her top. So I literally made him pinky promise me that he would not tell her about it (I made him pinky promise everything haha). I ended up telling my mother on my own, 5 years after finding the papers, and telling my father. I asked her recently, after my father passed away if he had told her, and broke his promise to me. She said he never said one word to her.

That’s my relationship with my father.

Fear, respect, love.. in that order as a child.

As an adult… Love and respect, but no more fear.

I loved my dad to pieces. He passed away at the age of 50 in 1974. I’m an only child, so I was daddy’s girl. But I was never spoiled. He was kind of strict, but I respected him & he was a loving man. I was always on his lap. He was a hugger & so am I. My fondest memories are of us playing instruments when I was younger. We’d sing, he played the guitar & me the piano. That was usually our Sunday afternoons. How I’d love to have just one more day of that!

He always taught me to stand up for myself & not take any guff off of anyone. He told me that I was no better than anyone else, but no one else was any better than me, either. I’ve always remembered that. He never laid a land on me. All’s he’d have to do is look at me & I’d wilt. I knew when I’d gone too far, ha ha.

Who?

He exploits me as a trophy for his own personal gain. I tolerate it. He takes his anger out on me. I tolerate it. He lies about everything. I tolerate it.

We text only for divorce court purposes. He took me to Subway for lunch on my 17th birthday, on the phone the entire time. I have to remember to communicate with him at least once a week so my mother doesn’t get in trouble.

Our relationship is barely existent, and only by force. I would give the world for it to be otherwise, but, hey, it’s life.

Very close. In fact, he is the finest man I’ve ever known. I hope to be just like him when I grow up.
(If I grow up.)

He taught me how to take a punch. I’m glad he is dead.

Out of his six kids I know I’m his favorite, and if you asked the other five, they would agree. I don’t live by him, but we talk about once a week. I know I can call to shoot the breeze or give him shit about politics. He just visited my family for about a week. He’s an easy houseguest, and nice to have around. The kids like hanging with him because he’ll sit and chat them up. I like hanging with him because I give him an endless amount of shit, and he laughs. It’s all good. I like that old guy.

My father is deceased. He and my mother had a troubled marriage, and my father never really supported us financially, although he did help me out with a bit of tuition money a few semesters. He left the state after their divorce so he wouldn’t have to pay child support. The first job I had was at a law firm that was suing him for a bad debt, so my first 6 months pay checks went to pay it off. When he died, he left me $10,000 and the rest (business worth several million) went to my stepmom. As much as he professed to love my daughters, he made no provisions for their education, which would have been all I would have wanted. He was a dreamer, and never told us the truth.

I’m very close with my father. Maybe not to the extent that I am with my mother, but close none the less. Growing up he coached my soccer teams and attempted to help me with my math homework. Now we watch sports together and he still attempts to help me with my math homework. He’s the best.

I love my Daddy. He of my father and my friend. I know if I have a problem or great accomplishment he will me here for me . He is a great man and a great Dad!

My dad is my best friend. I’m scared shitless of him sometimes, but he’s always on my side. He’s really cool, too. I’m like him in a lot of ways, both positive and negative, and I’m proud of them all.

A little distant. He means well, but we usually communicate through Mom. ‘Twas always thus. I’m neither happy nor sad about the state of our relationship, but I still love him. Mom says he loves me, too. ;^)

My father and I are close. I am his little girl and he has always adored me. He has never told me he loves me but by the look in his eyes I know he does. He is very old fashioned and he doesn’t believe you have to tell someone that you love them. He believes actions speak louder than words. He is the most honorable man I know.

Yes, yes indeed, Gimmedat’s stock is the Berkshire-Hathaway of our family exchange. Me? I’m right there with the auto companies.

My dad has been dead since 1976. Each of you with living fathers, distant or close, do me a favor and either give them a hug or tell them you love them.
You never know when it will be your last chance.

Well said, cdwccrn.

My Dad died three years ago. I had issues with him as a young adult but not as many as I had with my mother. I was the only girl in the family and I think I was special to him. He could be very narcissistic and childish at times, but most of the time he was a sweet, funny, loving man. The last few years of his life he spent in a nursing home and he lit up when I came to see him. I enjoyed holding his hand there.

In the last six months of his life, he told me, “You do everything so well” twice which is something I needed to hear. Although I miss him, I felt like I was in a good place with him when he died.

I didn’t meet my biological father until I was 18 or 19 years old. I had to basically threaten him in order for him to agree to meet me for lunch. At that lunch, we talked for about 3 hours and cried several times. After that first meeting, we became friends. I met his wife and his son (my half-brother) and we all got along well, but not in a ‘family’ type of way. He passed away many years ago, and I was glad I had known him.

Now, my step-father, whom I call ‘Dad’ is another thing altogether. He and my mother married when I was 4 years old, and were divorced by the time I was 8. With no legal or blood ties, he is my dad. Gave me away at my wedding and is Grandad to my children. What a wonderful man he is.

Satan and the AntiChrist

It’s almost impossible not to like my dad. I can count on one hand the number of people I know of who don’t get along with him. Best way to describe him so all of you get an idea of his personality: AstroChuck in ten or fifteen years. He’s even a mail carrier…

complicated but definitely full of deep love

My daughter refers to my ex (her father) as her DNA.
It stands for Dad Not Available.

Relationships with my family:
1. My Sister
2. My Father
3. My Mother
4. Me
5. My Brother

(1 is the closest, 5 is the furthest)

i haven’t talked to him in about 3 years or so.

I only talk to my brother about once a week or less. I rarely see him. Whenever I see him, he is annoying.

Completely fucked. He’s not a good person.

Close, he’s just like me!

This is a difficult one. Very close in a way, but oh so distant. Sometimes, he’ll say something and I want it to stop there but he always takes it til the point I get pissed off.
He has an ego problem and so do I, so basically we just put eachother down until it ends up in a very big fight, often really really scary! This all until we come to the conclusion that I’m his life and he wants what’s best for me. But it’s really like a vicious circle.

My father died in 1988. the same year I got married and gave up a musical career
He was a true craftsman. He was mostly responsible for my love of music. As an adult, we were best of friends.

@vanslonski
:( so sorry. I hope you at least caught some fish
My own father was a gentleman who gave me his eyes. His eyes were the opaque slate blue/grey of a mystic. He taught me to see beauty in the world. Being from a different era, he would spank my ass when I needed it but I always knew he loved me. My parents divorced when I was young and I was devastated. I felt abandoned and it took me many years to get over it. Years later, I realized that I couldn’t live with my mother either. He died when I was in my late 30’s far too young at 69. He’s all around me.

Long distance. (He is dead).

“Distant” is a word used often here. I would have to say that that applies to me and my father as well.

Although we are very similar, he moved away when I was maybe 10? (I’m not sure.) He only sporadically remembers to call me and doesn’t really know who I am. He’s only sure of four things that I like (The Nightmare Before Christmas, books, Harry Potter and tea).

It’s been 3 years since I’ve seen my dad face-to-face.

I wish he lived closer to me; he’s a great Hearts player.

(Unfortunately, my mom doesn’t like him much either because he’s what’s known as a “deadbeat dad”.)

He was old-fashioned and firm. But I loved him. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for his old-fashioned-ness and strictness. If I didn’t have such a firm and paternalistic father, I most likely would have ended up wayward, undisciplined, lazy, and poor. Thank God, I didn’t.