King LEAR? King Fear? King can no longer Hear? or King Far too Near?
(Thank you for your kinds and shocking words Kirsten).
Can you hear my Dad with his “OH DEAR” sarcasm when we dared suggest he pay attention to the road? He was mime conducting to Mahler’s the Planets blaring thorugh NHPR flying up Rt 83? Can you smell the Maui-Wowee as we ponder how wonderful it would be if our parents married? Then we live in Nailopolis(h) silent H every single day. We would get to ride to wherever I go to school, TOGETHER, and NEVER MISS an SnM at UU church again. During the silent meditation staring down at our hands in our laps, trying with all of the self control 12 year old girls can muster not to burst out giggling.
How you ever found me strong or were inspired in times of adversity is a mystery. A vodka catalyst with coked turbo boosts appeared as strength then you were fooled. Inside I lived in fear, the kind that has taken years of sobriety, therapy and hard work to overcome. Five years for the wide eyes to to resemble the almod shape I was born with, and longer to reflect a spirit I never knew that feels hope and joy even peace. Yet somehow I feel defeated and depleted of any grace acquired. Not to belabor the obvious but I am struggling financially. I have not allowed this to completely destroy any (however fragmented) self worth I have worked for 13 years to acquire because it is also beyond my control today. Last night I had an experience with my father that for the first time in years, made me question my presence in his life. When we moved to NH the road that we live on was an unpaved road. You know what they say about the road to hell. Good intentions supported by my motives of caring for an aging father. This was an actual commitment to the values that were uncovered I had not previously known.
The ride home last night was a denial shattering glimpse into an emotional entanglement that left me doubting I had developed at all since adolescence.
Last night I called everyone I knew to request a ride home, Dan was out of town and well, long story short my Dad was like crimson spitting in anger top of his lungs saying things like
‘ you are SUCH a screw up I am so sick of youuuuuu don’t EVER ask me for a ride again EVER, ( hten the new 5.00 ride) I asked how there was 100% inflation in gas prices in 4 days?
He screamed. “You’re a dead beeeeeat dead beat!!!!!!!!!!!IA complete loser, how it is not his problem any of it, and
( insert) I have been paying 100 more monthly of kindness from when I made more at Fidelity, this never returned to the original agreement when I was unemployment and subsequent hiring here.
I asked. " what were you actually doing? When I called had you did not SCREAMED and hung up you would have heard me say You can come in an hour. But instead you in a rage jumped this vehicle faster than if I was in the hospital Guaranteed".
He said he was never so Inconvenienced. I said,
( side note I bought him Al Gore’s book for his birthday last yr)
And You’ll like this one:
The Inconvenient truth is that you never took one grandkid overnight since they were born. You could not possible know what being inconvenienced is today.
He said he just went bananas
Picture me in the old moldy truck with bald tires him screeching around Exit 17, and me questioning my very reason for living. I said, “Dad, next time you have Congestive heart failure don’t call me for a ride! Is that a LOVING thing to say Dad?”
He said, “Well, I do not ever plan to BE hospitalized and SCREW YOU”
I replied, “ No one plans it. How about you can clean your house, do your wash, and maintain the ‘grounds’ of this white elephant, remove the trash wash the recyclables, trash and get your own dog in at night.
Which I never ever uttered because I do not believe in arguing with a sick person. Until I lacked any self restraint at all and let it All out. Biting my tongue quite a LOT. He ended with “ well I do not care if you FREEZE to death.”
No more words were said, we parted to our respective residences.
Seven o’clock sharp this morning I heard the slamming door of his house, the opening of my apartment door the grumbling over my clothes near the steps, “Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh plenty of coffee!”