I had conflicts with my Dad from a young age. Perhaps I shouldn't have, but despite his positive attributes (and he definitely had some,) I viewed him as a bully and a congenital liar. This was compounded by the fact that Dad spent very little time bonding with us kids and much of the bonding time was Dad doing what he wanted to do and letting us tag along. Which sometimes could be very cool. I remember when he took me to an Asian grocery, this was in the early 70's or something when that was a very exotic place for a white kid to explore. He bought me some dried cuttlefish snacks and an Asahi beer (I was definitely underage) and I got my introduction into a weird but exciting world. It was cool. He also took us to New Orleans and let us look in the doors of the strip joints, which probably was not at all good parenting but we liked it. :)
I think it was not at all that Dad didn't love us kids, he did love us. I just think that he was psychologically ill equipped to be a dad in certain ways. He could be generous to a fault, he was gregarious, he could excite the imagination at times. Though he also lied a whole lot. He was a storyteller: often an awful one, but he enjoyed it and some of the stories were pretty good. He could be a tad, or more than a tad, amoral. He exulted in breaking the rules and sticking it to the suckers. He hated religious people, so it was a bit of a disappointment to him that one of his sons turned out to be one. He could be very angry, and often at people who were weaker than him.
He himself admitted to me that he wasn't much of a father. He was in the hospital and he asked me if I loved him. I said "of course I do, you're my father." He said to me, "Your mother was your father" which was really true. Mom had far more to do with our upbringing.
So he was a colorful man, but not always a good one.
But what I am, is always indebted to him. He kept me fed and sheltered in my childhood, bought me presents, raised me as he knew how which he didn't know much. I remember one time, we must have been at best early teen at the time, him buying us porn magazines at a convenience store. So Pious-Dad-Of-The-Month he was not. ;)
But in addition to contributing to feeding, clothing, sheltering and otherwise caring for his children, he also taught me morality - not in the way he would have wished. He taught me by his negative example. He lied far more often than told the truth. He was hedonistic. He pretty clearly hated all religion, and if he did not hate G-d then it was only the lax deistic Bacchus of his imagination that he did not hate. While I wouldn't say that either he or Mom had a super serious problem with alcohol, they certainly celebrated it, and while I escaped the scourge of alcoholism my brothers were not as lucky. And this overall negative example that he set, taught me. If the deacon's son who turns into a hellion is a parable (and I knew one such,) perhaps the reverse is true. I rebelled against my Dad in almost every way, and I rebelled against his slack morals in the end too, though for a long time I imitated them.
I will always remember, I don't want to ever forget. I was maybe 12 years old. One day my Mom had brought home a cake or something for an office party and didn't label it. I snuck a slice. Later, my Mom accused me rather angrily of eating some of it, and I LIED. I said I didn't. She didn't believe me.
Had the matter remained there, I wouldn't remember it now. But my Dad was there, and he said: "Bobby never lies." No doubt trying to back up a fellow partner in crime.
And that phrase struck me in the heart like a knife. I was there confronted unavoidably by the difference between my ideal self, the one that never lies, and my actual self, the one who lied to his mother. Seems like a small thing, but that will stick with me the rest of my life.
Indirectly and probably for the wrong reasons, Dad gave me one of the best lessons I ever got. I am forever indebted to him for that.
So I guess I am not dealing with the actual topic very much on this one. I can't tell people how to honor parents who are often very very imperfect. I am probably not the man for this job. What I can tell you, is that your parents went through more than you will know. You are indebted to them, and always will be. And what I know for a fact is that if I ever were in trouble, my Dad for all his shortcomings would have been there like a shot. Wild horses would not have kept my Dad from being there for his kids in their time of need. He was my Dad. I did love him, though I didn't always think I did.
G-d wants you to honor your parents. You may not always like them, they may even be terrible examples, but they went the long yard for you and if they are like mine were they would always be there for you. Respect that.
Honor your father and your mother,
so that you may live long in the land
the LORD your God is giving you.
~Exodus 20:12
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