am i my father's son?

some of you who come by to read this blog know that i did not know my father. my parents were separated shortly before i was born and divorced when i was around six or seven. the time of their entire relationship was probably about five years. i only have one memory of his visiting when i must have been around four years old. he was in the army and was visiting while he was on leave. he came in his dress blues uniform, and i remember sitting on his lap and staring at the shiny pins on his chest.  i also remember feeling very loved at that moment.

my father died when i was 14 under "mysterious" circumstances. he was wounded in the vietnam war and had been on pain medication for the rest of his life. he died of an overdose of that medication. whether by accident or on purpose is the critical unknown. he would have been about 35 years old -- about 13 years younger than i am now.

from what i've pieced together over time, i can tell he did not have a happy adult life, as brief as it unfortunately was. at the funeral, i learned his life had been pretty aimless -- two more marriages that ended (one that yielded two children), no steady employment, and some run-ins with the law (a recent internet search on my own name, which, save for my middle name, i share with my father, yielded an arrest report for him from 1970 for disorderly conduct).

my most significant piece of evidence is a letter my mother gave me that he wrote to her in which he suggests they finally divorce. he sent it from germany where he was stationed at the time. it is a heart wrenching piece in which he expresses regret for how their relationship turned out. as part of his reasoning for ending their marriage, he states that it actually would be better for all involved especially me as he speculated his presence in my life would only bring problems given the "mess" his life turned out to be.

with all that i don't think it's too far a stretch to believe my father also suffered from acute depression, experiencing many times in life like the one i am having now. these moments are certainly difficult in the degree and depth of emotional pain one experiences. i am grateful for the medication that at least allows me to function and fulfill my responsibilities at such a time as this.

my life experience has been distinctly different from my father's. i have experienced some modicum of personal and professional success. i am in a loving relationship that has weathered its share of challenges over 12 years. still, in this current time of struggle, when joy seems so far removed from my daily experience and relief seems to be nowhere in sight, i wonder how much more i share with my father than a just a name.