The Fatherless...

Hey…I’ve got two awesome daughters and one hell of a grandson.   So I’m a happy “Dad”, “Daddy”, “Dude”, “Pop Dukes”!

I have a lot to be thankful for!   I wish all (if not most) of the children in America…(or for that matter...the world) could wish their Dads’ a Happy Fathers Day…but it just ain’t so.   You can do your own research and google “fatherless”.   Here are some things I found.   Children from fatherless (single parent) homes account for:

• 85% of all children that exhibit behavioral disorders 
• 90% of all homeless and runaway children 
• 71% of all high school dropouts 
• 75% of all adolescent patients in chemical abuse centers 
•  63% of youth suicides And the list goes on!   

Like I said, do your own research but these are depressing statistics.   So to you families with a Dad…or even two Dads…a really Happy Fathers Day.   Big props to JCPenny (and One Million Moms…go f**k yourselves)!

I know there are exceptions to this rule (of fatherless homes) …but I guess overall, more often than not…two is better than one.   I think I’m one of those exceptions of the two versus one rule.   Overall…I think I turned out okay….but a lot of unanswered questions still remain unanswered…and I’m certain I’ll go to my grave not knowing some of the specifics.

My parents divorced in the mid 50s.   That was unheard of back then…at least in my neighborhood.   As a young boy…I didn’t know anyone else whose parents were divorced…and I never knew (and still don’t know) why my parent’s marriage ended in divorce.   At the time (I was nine years old), my Mom told me that my Dad had moved out a few years earlier so that we could have more room in our small apartment.   At that time, she didn’t use the word separation and I believed her hook…line…and sinker!   No questions asked…but it affected me.   In a way, it still does.

When I was 16…I finally asked her what the deal was with her and my father…that’s when she told me they had divorced years ago…when I was nine.   Like I said…I don’t know why.   My Mom claims that the war (WWII) had changed my Dad.   He was drafted and was sent overseas while my Mom was pregnant with my older brother.   My Dad’s mother died while he was overseas and he couldn’t return for her funeral.   So it was a lot of stuff.   I’m sure there was more to it than just that…fell out of love maybe…PTSD???   The fact that my grandfather, Dad’s father-in-law, had moved in with us in that small apartment?   Who knows?

I think I was born exactly nine months after his return from his overseas’ WWII duty…1946.   Nine years later…they were divorced.   Like I said…I still don’t know exactly why…and at this point, in all likelihood I never will.   They both died over 20+ years ago.