This movie gutted me. I absolutely loved it for as much as it inspired bittersweet feelings. First of all, I love Kelsey Grammar. Period. He’s an icon from my childhood and I also liked and related to the characters on Frasier since I was a nerd. My Granny and I watched the show together. Secondly, sign me up for anything with Kristen Bell.
But third and most of all, the title about Fathers is what got me. The movie is about Rachel (Bell), a girl who is getting married and her estranged father shows up at her wedding. She’s a workaholic and her fiance decides to leave her at the altar. She flees the wedding and ends up getting drunk with her dad. They end up on her honeymoon cruise ship, trapped for two weeks together.
I was instantly enthralled by the thought. It would be torture, or would it??? I clicked to watch the show and am glad that I did. It made me think about the connection with my own biological father. It made me think of both of my fathers, actually.
In the movie, Rachel says, “I’m glad you came and found me.” After twenty five years absent from her life, he randomly shows back up. They have heart warming interactions. They talk about why he left and she’s supposed to understand. Her dad was like her, dedicated to his business his whole life. At least he was a successful failure as a dad.
Some people aren’t so fucking lucky. When she said she was glad, I started to weep bitter tears. How can some people be glad to be reconnected with their estranged fathers, and I hate the fact everyday that my mother told me he is my real dad? I have such a weird mixture of feelings regarding him.
I have my mother on my shoulders. There’s not enough room for all his fuck ups and shortcomings, also. I hold him at arm’s length because I’m afraid to get attached. I don’t want him to use me. I don’t want him to have any hold over me. I can’t worry about him and invest myself in him. I am fully invested in my mother.
I read my One Day At A Time book yesterday, and I didn’t understand it altogether.
One Day at a Time
How can I not be so invested? Their problems are my identity. My inability to deal with their problems and make them better makes me somehow more of a failure as a daughter. As I type it, I see that’s ridiculous but that’s what I feel. A jagged wound inside, unable to heal my parent’s lack of love. They needed something bigger and better and I want to be the one to help them fill those holes— but I’m not enough. It’s not my job. That is so fucking hard to realize.
In the series Kimmy Schmidt the Unbreakable she talks to a picture of her Geena Davis. She picked a picture as her substitute mother. I think this all boils down to my desire to have the comforting, sensitive Frasier as a dad. When I hear his deep voice, I instantly feel a little better. He reminds me of my childhood. Is that weird or what? haha
Frasier would have been a good dad. My mom made fun of me for being well read and using my vocabulary words. Frasier would have encouraged me and admonished mom. How beneficial to have a live in therapist 🙂