Man Up Big Brother!! He's my dad too ass hole.
Truths from the Chaos
Tonight I slipped.
That’s what I call it when I fail to find the strength to prevent the past from getting in the way of my present or future.
Tonight is the 3rd time since last October I have slipped. Dammit!
First things first – I know my intimate circle of followers would like an update about my trip to dads. Believe me when I say I have been trying to write and post a blog since I returned early Monday evening. I am sure my recent efforts to write my update are not unique.
I have so much I want to write. Words flow every which a way in my head and eventually create an illusion of organized thinking.
The blog title comes. Ahhhh YES.
The writing begins. Double ahhhh YES.
Then my writing gradually veers off subject let alone doesn’t have one fuckin’ thing to do with the blog title so back to square one. In other words, I have started 5 blog posts and yet to finish one. I know, I know. At least I do not have a blank stare on my face or no thoughts as I sit in front of my computer monitor.
On the contrary, my eyes, heart and soul are full of emotion. It’s somewhat overwhelming. Up until earlier this afternoon I could swear I was experiencing feelings of happiness where dad is concerned.
Regarding all the words flowing every which a way in my head, O.M.G, I have an abundance of thoughts and feelings. No doubt the reason for my writing delay. I am still processing my visit with dad and step mom.
It was a long trip not lacking in warmth, honesty, sensitivity and caring. Things I am Ok to share….
I observed a lot.
We talked a lot.
We drank early morning coffee together.
Step mom and I sat on the back deck and shared stories.
While dad cooked breakfast a couple of mornings I acted as if I was reading but I was watching his every move. All in silence. It was the *good* kind of silence. NOT the silence my mom showed me.
We sat at the dining room table on a number of occasions. It even felt as if we enjoyed each other's company.
Things felt right.
Calm…95% of my visit.
I confess on the ninth evening of my visit I surrendered to a run, because my *tools kicked in*, and I knew I had to remove myself from the house. I quickly changed into my running clothes, grabbed my running shoes as 80lb dog reluctantly followed me out the front door. I swear if she could talk she would have said, “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”
She remembered we already had an early morning run well before the humidity assaulted the day. Yet there we were again…running down the drive way mid evening. We may as well have been running laps in a sauna. I kept an eye on 80lb dog….so loyal she is to me. As we ran, I assured her over and over again that we would not pass out from the humidity. (I hoped.)
We ran. I cried. I talked to God.
I told God I was not mad at dad for our exchange of words.
I told God I felt as if we had made progress in our past days together.
I told God that I wished it did not hurt so deep.
I told God I was trying like hell to pull up my big girl panties and accept *this* is all part of what has to be done in order for me to get to the other side.
After our run, I knew I was not emotionally or mentally ready to return to the house, so we detoured far behind dad’s house to hide ourselves amongst all of the trees. I found a spot next to a dead log so I could rest my head, cleared a place to lie down and went to sleep. Thankfully the trees have recovered since the eye of Hurricane Katrina destroyed so much on dad’s property. All were tall, healthy and abundantly green. I knew no one would see me from the back deck.
Maybe I napped for twenty minutes or forty five. Who knows? I slept as 80lb dog kept watch. Then we walked back to dads. I walked in, peeled and shared an orange with dad before I went upstairs to shower. I came back downstairs and joined step mom in front of the television.
If you are following my *blog meltdown* then you will understand my next statement. “I returned the doily to its place on the immaculately polished coffee table and acted as if nothing happened.”
Three years ago I would have quickly packed my car and drove away. (Like my big brother still does to this day.) Both of us learned this behavior from mom. It should come as no surprise to me that I have done the same throughout most all of my life. I have said it before and will say it for as long as I live, *Children Learn What They Live.*
Yesterday I had 2 doctor’s appointments. My docs acknowledged the manner in which I handled the conflict with dad as positive coping.
I don't disagree. I knew I was coping with every step I took to remove myself from the situation.... go for a run..... nap. And we all agreed, SO WHAT because I napped on the dirt in the middle of the woods! Still my positive coping did not make any of *it* less painful. I felt pathetic. While I ran I could feel the hurt in every part of my body, but I refused to become immobilized by fear, the past, grief or pain. I willed myself to keep moving forward and I did.
Oh….my slip. That’s how this blog started, right?
Yes, tonight I slipped. I did not go to my training run. It's a huge slip considering I have only missed 2 training runs since October. My ability to *show up* is my personal gage. Not today though. I couldn't will myself to show up. Instead at 4:30pm I locked my doors, closed the shutters, climbed into bed and pulled the covers over my head.
At that point, I knew it was a coin toss whether or not I would make the 6:30pm run.
Why all the sudden drama?
My older brother and I don’t talk. It’s all part of all the shit. Apparently he was supposed to travel to dads the same weekend I decided to make the trip. Then his plans changed when he found out I would be at dads also. He gave some bullshit reason, but I know better.
As for my feelings when I was told about the possibility that I might be under the same roof as my one year older brother, I didn’t think twice about changing my plans. To my step mom I said, “Time is ticking, and dad is not getting any younger. I am not traveling into town to resolve a lifetime of problems with my brother. I know how to be cordial and polite and exist under the same roof.”
So today...while still feeling warmth, comfort and I think even happiness from my trip, I expressed a desire to spend Father’s Day with dad.
Understand I haven’t cared to spend a father’s day with my father in decades. Today - finally, I want to. I am working hard to understand our past – forgive- get to a place of peace so we can move forward. I am fighting to create pleasant memories before we exit this earth. Since my brother did not travel to dad's last week while I was in town he gets dibs on Father's Day. In other words, it’s best I don’t go. Fuckin’ 5 steps forward and 8 steps back.
I am beyond livid about this subject. I didn't even get to have 3 full days to enjoy what I am almost certain were feelings of happiness where my dad is concerned. Sure the visit wasn’t all perfect, but it was a start. Now this! I am not mad at my dad. I don’t even know if he is aware of the planning that has ensued to keep my brother *happy*..
What the fuck happened to us, big brother?
Oh, that's right. There was N.E.V.E.R. an *us*.
Thank you mom & dad.
That explains why all I want to do is to say mean, hateful things to you.
For starters, you are a selfish ass hole.
Go to therapy.
Get your shit together.
Man fuckin up and deal with all our family shit.
We can't change the past but we can sure as hell have a say in our future.
I am so mad at you.
Fuck you I say.
I am so exhausted with all of this shit...your shit.
Do Do something D.I.F.F.E.R.E.N.T.!!!!!!!
Want a better life, big brother!
You have 3 children!
Break the fuckin' pattern!
Show them better!
Children Learn What They Live!
YOU KNOW THIS!
This was not our fault!
This I know:
If our father dies before I see him again...
hell hath no fury like the scorn I will not hide.