|After The Funeral
||[Sep. 15th, 2004|09:19 am]
My father died at the back end of last year. We've had time to grieve and now it seems like we're all beginning to remember what a gruesome old sod he was. I spent all my adult life disliking him and keeping as far away from him as I could, then, just at the end, as if we'd seen a warning flare go up, we made a special effort and had two or three good hours together. After the funeral it seemed like those two or three good hours had cancelled out all that went before, but of course they hadn't. |
He was "disappointed" in me. That's what I've recently heard. I knew it in my bones (of course) but it was a shock to be told it. In the rare times when we were together the disappointment hung in the air like fog, but it was never spoken. I used always to get migraines when I visited him.
So what were you disappointed in, Dad? What exactly? And when did you decide that I was so disappointing? When I was 35? 25? 15? 5? I've really no means of telling because I don't ever remember a time when you acted like you enjoyed having me around.
Forgiveness? I don't understand what that word means. You were the way you were. You cast a blight over my life and many other lives. And nothing I do or say now can change it.
It's really sad that in many cases out parents' concern for us in our adult lives doesn't mainly consist of:
Are you well?
Are you happy with your life?
Are things ok between you & I?
Much respect from me for being truthful and string about it.
I am sorry it hurts so.
But I am most sorry that it's not uncommon.
I think the family is a greatly over-rated institution. In my skewed experience (I guess I tend to mix with outsiders like myself) it's a cockpit of abuse. When politicians bang on about the family and family values I look about me for something to throw.