‘I GAVE HIM MORE CHANCES THAN HE DESERVED’
Jen Mellor, 40, is a blogger and lives in Nottingham with her partner, 50, and her son, 15.
I was five when my dad Bill stopped coming to see me. He and my mother had split, and while at first I’d see him at weekends, that soon petered out.
As I grew up, all I had left were photos. I’d been too young to remember any time spent with him, although I took comfort from the fact that in the photos he looked like a doting father.
My mum met a new partner when I was 13 and, while I didn’t call my stepfather ‘dad’, that’s how I saw him. If I needed anything, I could go to him for his advice and support, and he made me feel loved in a way my dad never had.
But as I got older, I was curious. Strangely, I didn’t resent Dad for leaving us all those years ago, but I did want to know more about who he was. I waited until 2000, when I was 20, to reach out to him, sending a letter to the divorce solicitor he’d used and asking them to pass it on to him.
To my surprise, he replied, and for a while we sent letters back and forth. I discovered that he had a new family, but he did express an interest in meeting up.
Seeing my dad again for the first time in 15 years was strange – he looked and sounded like a stranger. I knew nothing about him and, while he asked me questions and we chatted about my life, he was very guarded over the details of his own. We began sending birthday and Christmas cards, and I’d send him a gift on Father’s Day.
In November 2005, my son was born.
‘HE WAS VERY GUARDED’
I told Dad and, while we saw each other sporadically and he did meet his grandson, he was more like a distant uncle to me than a dad.
By 2010, our communication had become less frequent and, at our final meeting, Dad really hurt me. He told me I looked too much like my mother, and accused me of being after his money. He wouldn’t be seeing me again, he said, and he asked me not to contact him. I didn’t understand. In the time we’d been reconnecting, I’d never once asked for money or done anything to give him that impression.
Time running out
Over the years, I continued to send birthday and Father’s Day cards, but got nothing back. Then, in January 2019, I heard from a relative that Dad was very unwell. He’d had a series of heart attacks and his health was deteriorating. I asked them to give him a message, telling him I was thinking of him and asking if I could speak to him one last time. I didn’t want to live with the regret of not sorting things out. But he said no.
Two months later, in March, Dad died. I think he must have known he didn’t have long left, but even that didn’t compel him to try to make amends. I found that really hard to accept. Dad had pushed me
away until the very end, and now I had to live with knowing that we’d never had the chance to make peace. It felt unbelievably cruel. I questioned myself over and over: did I do enough? Did I do too much? But, in time, I realised I hadn’t done anything wrong and couldn’t blame myself. I’d tried my best. I was surprised to feel relieved. For the first time in a long time, I could give my full focus to my family – the people who actually wanted me in their lives.
I’ve now come to accept that Dad and I never made peace, and I’m OK with that. I gave him more chances than he deserved. I’m lucky to have a brilliant partner, son, mother and stepfather who love me, and that’s really all I could ever ask for.
✱ justaveragejen.com