Yesterday, I tried to find him. In my dream I knew he was alive, but he was hiding from me. I became frantic, desperate to find him. My heart was pounding and I broke into a sweat and anxiety was crawling over me. Until I remembered he was gone. Then, I knew why I couldn't find him. But it isn't because he is dead, deceased, singing with angels...it is because he is ashamed of me.
My father always warned us girls to stick together. Often when we would fight he would tell us that we were going to need each other. That one day he and my mom would be gone and we(Kelly and I ) were going to be all that was left of our family. My dad knew this from bitter experience. He hadn't spoken to one of his brothers for 45 years and didn't ever reconcile before his death. His oldest brother came in and out of his life...maybe once every 10 years or so...until my dad got sick. Then his brother was there for him every day...
My dad treated his girls like princesses. I was the high maintenance one, and my sister was more like a tomboy...but we were both his Pumpkins...and he was our Daddy. The loss of my dad in hindsight, seems to be the beginning of the end for our family. For a few years we stuck together, but then puberty and boys and money problems and anger and shame started to trickle into our lives and tear us apart.
At this time, I am not speaking to my sister. Can I tell you why? I wish I knew. What do I think happened? Well, a few years ago, I had the worst year of my life since 1990 when I lost my dad. I lost my father in law, and a few other pretty scary...I don't want to repeat the details...things happened, my husband left the state for work...and I felt alone...well...these were the times I was supposed to rely on my sister...the only connection I had left with my dad. Sadly, she wasn't there for me. I don't know ...I have spent years trying to rebuild a connection with her...I think I just gave up trying to make do with the paltry relationship she was willing to give. See...the truth of the matter is , she replaced me...and I haven't been able to forgive her. Family is supposed to be there for you forever and no matter what...that was the lesson my dad tried to tell...that is what our entire extended family always spouted. But we grow up and we all grow away and stay busy with our own lives and those of our children. I seem to be able to forgive anyone for anything...except for her and except for myself. I truly believe that if my sisters replacement for me had a child any time over the last 20 years, she would have no need for my children...and absolutely none for me.
This is why I couldn't find my father. He shames me in my dreams for not being bigger than my emotions. He reminds me with his silence that I am older and should set a good example and make the first move...regardless of age and pride.
When I was small, my dad would play this silly game with me. I would walk past him and he would grab my hand. I would try to pull away, but he was so strong...and I would jump into his lap and bury my head into his shoulder laughing while he would wrap his arms around me. That is how love feels to me. One of my last memories of my dad was when he was hospitalized with the cancer that claimed him. My big 250 pound dad was reduced to a skeleton under a sheet when my sister and I walked in to say our goodbyes. When I leaned over to kiss his emaciated cheek, he reached out to hold my hand and squeezed it with the little strength he had left...that was love...it was goodbye and it was the last time I saw him alive..
Love no matter what, no matter when...that is supposed to be the message of family...it should be our family motto...maybe then...I would have a family again.
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