SYNOPSIS
The Sins of My Father is an 71,000 word memoir and the story of growing up with an absentee, alcoholic, mentally ill father, yet at the center of this narrative is me as a 37-year-old thrust into a spiritual journey sparked by my father’s death, the clues he left behind helping me to understand the afflicted man I never knew.
He was an impulsive, risk-seeking Vietnam Veteran, with a superficial demeanor—just as endearing as he was odious—tormented by a borderline personality, laced with histrionics, narcissism, and passive-aggressiveness, who used alcohol to appease feeling misunderstood and relied on inappropriate humor and demonstrative actions to cope with his fear of intimacy.
Told with the style and honesty, with the compassion of Running with Scissors and the structure of Wild, The Sins of My Father — both haunting and humorous — captures the pain and joy that lies at the heart of every family, but it’s the personal journey I take toward empathy and forgiveness that ultimately transforms and heals me.
The Sins of My Father speaks to my personal truth, but also explores the collateral damage of alcoholism, PTSD, and mental illness, and the many challenges that face absent-father families.
Sins is structured in three parts, the linear story taking place over a period of six months, starting with receiving the news of my father’s death and culminating as I delve into his “life” files. The linear story is juxtaposed with vignettes from my childhood and into adulthood.
Chapter 1: The Sins of My Father
I see myself meeting my drunken father at the Partridge Inn, a dodgy Kenosha motel, the day after I turned 18, where he explains—in his overly theatrical and vaudevillian way—that there is twenty thousand dollars of “blood money” in a Swiss Bank account waiting for me.
Chapter 2: Termites and Chicken Soup
After briefing Joe on termite beam repair, we make our way into the house. I look at my hands, coated in dryer termite grass. I’m not hungry, but Elvira is waiting. I know not to refuse. Homemade chicken soup. Delicious. Literally good for my soul. And Joe lets me eat in silence.
Chapter 3: Runaway Lincoln
“Jacob,” I say his name as both a statement and a question, and he knows right away that I have something important to say. “Grandpa Ken died today.” For a moment, he freezes. Then come the tears. First, it’s a silent cry, but wails of pain bellow from his pint-sized lungs.
Chapter 4: Poles Apart
When I pick them up, I can see it in Kendra’s eyes. She tells me that she shed a few tears when Bridget “dropped the bomb” between fifth and sixth periods, and she says she’s annoyed because “Bridget was like, What are you crying about? Dad didn’t even like Grandpa Ken.”
Chapter 5: Once Bitten, Twice Shy
He came bearing gifts, as I knew he would. Wrapped in Sunday comics. His gifts were almost always ridiculous trinkets from yard sales or the Salvation Army, but occasionally, they were useful, like the time a mysterious 50-pound package arrived at my college dormitory.