Christmas was really hard on my sisters and I, we crammed so many years of time lost and abandonment issues into 2 short days. I worked for weeks on end with no days off piling on the extra hours to have the money to fund this trip and try and make everything perfect and against all odds our father agreed to not only go with us and his ex wife our mother to dinner on christmas but to see the hobbit. I cannot explain to you the impact that seemingly small gesture made on us, nor can I begin to explain how or why Inga and I regressed to the point that we did in those few hours in the theater one on either side of our father hands clasped with his heads resting on his shoulder and not wanting to lose a second of that time and his attentions and affections. We took him the following day to a mall hed never been to, hoping for a repeat of the perfection that was christmas night but it was too much to hope for. There in the rain forest cafe everything came crashing down my mother pained with the jealousy of hearing about his fiance over and over again picked a petty fight and re-opened old wounds from the divorce and the shattered self esteem of my father. She then stormed out of the mall and we wasted precious hours trying to find her and bring her back in, 149.09 wasted on a meal we could not enjoy or hardly eat with our parents at each others throats as they were. While she was outside following her tantrum, I tried very hard to explain to my wounded father that she still loves and misses him, despite everything that has happened and all that she had done to him, she is still a fragile human herself and knew only after it was done what she had thrown away. I somehow managed through his anger and pain to get the message through to him. The ride back was very quiet and somber, they did not fight but she kept baiting him, the tension finally broken when our youngest sister dropped a lit cigarette and uttered the word shit! at which my father broke into the origin of the word explaining that shit and shoot/chute are related in meaning and origin this scatological conversation somehow broke the ice and got them speaking again but it was all too late the damage had been done the day was spent we would have to leave him again to not see him for yet another year and having wasted the last most important hours with him doing damage control. Inga and I spent much of the 7hr ride back in tears holding hands and comforting each other.
Posted on: Mon, 29 Dec 2014 02:00:18 +0000
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