And, like many I suppose, we had a complicated relationship.
He was a mean drunk during my childhood and early adolescence, quit booze and started making an effort when I was 13 or 14 (but getting too old to really bond with him at that point), and then only saw each other when I was home for college in my early adulthood. I always appreciated how he tried to be a better dad with my younger siblings, because his effort showed how much he wanted that second chance.
That said, my parents saved nothing for retirement and 99% of my conversations with him as an adult were him calling to borrow money. It wasn't entirely his fault. He had a thriving roofing business until 2008, and now we can look back and see that (at least here in the US) basically everyone's purchasing power was permanently lowered after that. His mistake was adopting so many kids so late in life. His kindness outweighed his good sense.
He started working in the 1950's at age 11 and never stopped, supporting his younger siblings and his mom. (His father died young.) Until a few months ago he was driving with my mom for DoorDash at age 83, because that's just how cruel and uncaring the US is to people.
And, he was very sick. Two years ago he was having trouble using a seat belt and basic door locks due to mild dementia, and he once lost control of his bladder in my car, which I've lent mom and dad for the past two years. When I visited him six weeks ago, it was clear to me that he was dying. Thankfully he woke up for a bit, knew I was there, and I told him to relax because we weren't getting on the roof today.
Still, it feels more like an uncle or a distant grandparent has passed away. Not my dad. I'm really just over here glad that he's no longer in pain and wishing he hadn't lived through all this the last five years.
I will honor him for the quiet kindnesses he showed me, like when he put $1000 in my hands to pay a tuition bill in college so I wouldn't have to quit, or the times he put a blanket over me when I was a kid or carried me to bed and tucked me in, or the time when I was four when he somehow found the money to get surgery for my eyes. I'm also grateful he hired me (and six weeks later fired me) to roof one summer, with (I now understand) the intention of making sure I never chose the life he did because it's such hard physical work.
Now I just hope there's an afterlife where he gets to sit on his ass for more than five minutes and not be surrounded by a bunch of kids.
While I don't have quite the same experience your father sounds somewhat like mine but in a different timespan. His parents died at a young age and was working to support the family early on. He never graduated junior high. He was pissed when he got drafted for korea partially because I believe he had just finished his apprencticehip or journeyman or what not but was primed to make decent money as a bricklayer. The wedding picture of my mom he is in uniform so Im not sure if they rushed to get it done before he shipped out or if had been planned before they knew. I know he was mean when younger but only the older kids in the family dealt with that. I was lucky in that he had many of his issues under control when I came along. He also got a job as a janitor where he had benefits and an actual pension. Even though brickwork paid well my brother theorized this took a lot of pressure off him since before he was working or not based forces outside his control. Apparently a regular schedule with benefits made for being easier going. I was never really close with him. He was a blue collar guy and I was the wierd nerdy kid. HIs death actually was not so bad as he had survived alzheimers for over a decade and about halfway through I would not wish that life on anyone. I often said I was all cried out before the actual death. Still you can't get away from the finality of actual death. One thing that is annoying is he wanted to be buried in a military cemetary hours away. My mom stayed with him when it was her time. I wish they were somewhere closer. Ironically I visit an uncle of mine I barely knew (he was kinda cool though) regularly because he is buried cose by.
Yeah, when they're sick going on years it hits differently.
If he'd died five or six years ago when he was mostly functionally healthy, I wouldn't be nearly as relieved as I feel today.
You're also right about the finality. Mostly I just feel bad for my mom. Can't imagine what it must be like to be facing the remainder of her life alone after losing a spouse of 60 years.
Yeah I felt that to. He died awhile back but I myself have now been married for 25 years and back then it was well over 10. My mom and dad did not have the best of relationship but it was old school and it was theirs. Honestly though again my mom had basically been on her own for a long time and really just visiting him. She eventually moved into a community run by nuns with just women residents. It was a nice little apartment and they looked after each other there so I think it gave her more socialization and company than she had had in many years.