Okay, if you are tired of reading about my sitch with my father, skip my blog today.
Cause I got lots to say. And it ain't pretty.
He called me 4 times in two hours while I was in NY. When we finally spoke, he told me he had been in the hospital for a month. (I knew this of course) But now he is HOME. Back to his own house...to do more of the same shit that got him in the hospital in the first place.
Where does this end? Where?
He told me "I just wanted to tell you I love you." I said "Dad, that's never been the problem- it's all the other stuff."
And in my father's typical way, his response was "Forget about that stuff. It's not important."
WTF??? Not important? My life, my effed up childhood, our surface relationship, all of that isn't important, apparently. Jesus.
So then my birthday came and went with no call. Yes, I was hurt. Very. I thought about what could keep me from calling Lily on her birthday. Nothing short of death. Nothing.
The next day he called and left a message. "It's dad. Sorry I forgot your birthday. I've forgotten alot in the past 9 months."
Hmmmm, interesting. I hear that alcohol impedes your effing memory. Just a goddamn theory there dad.
I felt like crying. I felt like screaming. I felt like shit. Not just for me, but for Lily.
And then, my in-laws and I went to Toy-R-Us. As we walked in, Lily lifted her arms up to her Gidu (grampa) and he picked her up, kissed her cheek, and she wrapped her arm around his neck. I watched from behind as they walked inside, and a peace came over me.
Even though I will never know what that feels like, SHE will. She will have her father and her grnadfather. Two strong men to love and guide her. She has no need for my father, and never will. She has enough. She will always have enough.
Love, security, discipline, laughter, joy, strength. All of these will be hers. And if I can't have those precious things, thank god my daughter can.
