Time for a Cool Change

That’s a song.  I don’t remember who sings it.  I heard it some time in the 90’s and thought it was new.  I was staying in a little polygamist town and even tho the boys & girls weren’t supposed to hang out, we’d find time to sneak to the “sticks” and listen to music the kids brought.  I wonder, still, where they got it and even more … where they hid it.  But either way, that’s where I learned of this band and Styx.  If you don’t know it.  Look it up.  Or maybe, if you’re lucky, and my baby isn’t on m lap by the time I’m finished blogging, I’ll link it.  I still things it’s one of the most fantastic songs ever.

Anyway, whew!  That was a really long intro to talking about something that has absolutely nothing to do with that story.

So, incase you weren’t a reader of my last blog, I’m creepy when it comes to organization.  I’m creepy when to the order of things – routine.  As you know, my sweet family has been put through the ringer over the last year.  The 23rd of the month marks 1 full year since I’ve talked to my dad.  I think, with the marking of a year, I need to put some order around it all.

There’s no update from the last time I wrote about it.  I reached out – again.  He didn’t respond.  My mom is still waiting it out – hoping for the best.  My brother still doesn’t talk to my dad and he doesn’t see any of his grandkids, except Glory, when I (purposely) take her there every 2 weeks or so.

I’ve continued to take Glory there because I had hoped that their relationship would somehow link him back to his family.  It hasn’t.  & while Glory loves him, it’s become far too painful of a game.  Every time I drop her off, he goes to his bedroom.  I feel like my mom is rushing me in or out so it’s not so uncomfortable.  It feels bad and always leave crying.  Too much.

Time for a cool change.

No more purpose dates with him & my mom.  I’m sure she’ll still see him but it’s not going to be “just because”.  I’m also going to stop calling him dad.  That’s the hard one.  You can give me advice and tell me what you think but honestly, it hurts terribly to have this carved out place for him when he wants nothing to do with me.

Not long ago, I took my car to a place where he’s always taken our cars to be fixed.  I introduced myself as his daughter and I’m pretty sure she talked to him after I came in.  What did he way?  Did he tell her …”oh she WAS my daughter – for 40 years – but now she’s not”?  I don’t know.  It feels a bit dramatic but necessary.

So, RJ.  That’s what I’ll write when referring to him.

And if you want to hear this fantastic song, go here.  You’re welcome.

And today is their 42nd anniversary.

The Definition of Insanity…

…isn’t it doing the same thing over & over and expecting different results?  …something like that.

I haven’t talked about my family for a bit and last night had enough of a punch to feel it again.  I’ve tried to have Glory at my mom & dad’s once every other week or so.  After talking to my brother, it seemed a good idea to keep Glory around my dad – hoping it would pull him back a little.  Maybe it’s working.  I don’t know.  I do know that Glory loves him.  When he’s around her, he’s very loving with her – as he always was.  But nothing has changed regarding us.

Before I pick her up, I make a warning call.  That gives my mom time to tell my dad I’m almost there.  When I walk in the door, I hear him leave the kitchen and walk to their bedroom.  He shuts the door and stays there until I leave – no matter who long I stay.

It’s ridiculous.  But more than anything else, it hurts me deeply.  I’d like to say that I roll my eyes and scoff at his immaturity.  I wish I could just move on and think of him differently. But I hear his voice in the background of my mom’s voicemail.  I still call him dad when I’m relaying stories of my life and this tiny part of me feels foolish – knowing he no longer considers me his daughter.

I can’t figure out a way to reconcile it all.  Sadly, there seems to be a theme here.

Anyway, I decided to send another email.  I told him I loved him.  And I miss him.  And that I hate that he feels so hurt that he can’t even stand to see me.  I pushed send.  It’s already gone.  & now I feel vulnerable, knowing I most likely won’t get a response.

But there’s something in not quitting, right?

Sometimes I think I’d be just find if, one day, he walked in the living room and just started talking – like nothing had happened.  We’d just go back to living and not worry about confronting what’s in the past.  But I think he’d make conditions.  He’s say I couldn’t see my yodad or that I couldn’t talk about him.  And while I could do my best, my darling daughter can’t stop talking about ALL the people in her life and I could never even try that.

It’s impossible to move forward without a conversation that I don’t think he’ll ever have.  And then what?

Baby Steps?

I remember, back in the day, when that title meant we were “in waiting for a baby”.  Now it’s the new mantra in my life but for a totally different reason.

After talking to my brother about my dad’s odd night of texting, I was talked in to making an effort to have Glory spend more time with him.  I think everyone thinks she’s the last link – the last real connection.  After a very long talk with Cristy, I mentioned it to my mom.  She, of course, loved the idea!  It meant that she could have more time with Glory and that my dad may possibly see more of what he’s missing.

I thought about calling him Christmas Eve and came really close but then it just hurt too much.  Most likely, he wouldn’t have answered.  And the fact that he chose to leave town for Christmas (& all events related…) was enough of a reason not to put myself out there.  But I did ask if they’d watch her one night last week.

We dropped her off and didn’t see him at all.  My guess is that he heard me come in and went to the back bedroom.  We weren’t there long but long enough to know he was purposely avoiding me.  Walking out I thought, “at least he didn’t chase me down the driveway like he did on Father’s Day”.  Silver lining, I guess.

Picking her up was about the same.  We were gathering her things in the living room and as I walked in to the kitchen, he turned the corner to walk out and passed me.  He looked at me.  Smirked, rather.  And walked to the back bedroom.  Again, there was no chasing or screaming.  Silver lining.

Glory went back to the room to say goodbye.  I heard her say she loved him and I suppose that’s what matters most.  Right now, he loves her too.  But I have no reason to believe she’s always safe in that love.  I’m still thinking and re-thinking and right now I’d be fine with her seeing him now & again but not more than that.  Some of you might think that’s selfish and it probably is.  But somewhere deep in my denial or confusion, I know it’s right.

It’s a new year and it’s been over 8 months since he found out he wasn’t my biological father.  8 months since he’s talked to me.  8 months since he’s said, after 40 years, I’m no longer his daughter.  I guess there’s not a time limit on this sort of thing but I sure am getting weary.