Mr Now and I discussed my dad last night. I told him about how every day I dread getting "The phone call" The one telling me that Daddy has overdosed on drugs or sugar or been killed in a fight over some 18 year old crack whore stripper hussey and I need to pick up the pieces. He asked why it is that I worry about it.
I guess when I am not worrying about men, I worry about my dad. It was a great relief to me ypsyche when I realized that I cannot save him. All I can do is love hm. It hurts me deeply that he does not respond to my letters, but he is the one that chooses not to be a part of our lives.
I am aware, too that part of this choice stems from his lifestyle, which is, by now, less of a choice and more of a habit. a deep hole he's been digging for the past 40 years that he has lost the will to escape out of. He doesn't want to drag us down into his hole, and frankly, I've peered down into it, and I don't want to go in there either.
Selfishly, I know that when I do get the call, I know that I will have to immerse myself in the cesspool he has made of his life.I've done it briefly before, I don't want to do it again. I love him. He has a heart of gold. He is intelligent and fun. He is surrounded by filth. Human and otherwise. The people he calls friends are the very dregs of society. The use him, they steal from him. I know he is not blameless. I'm not that naieve. He invites them into his life. He has traded us for them. I forgive him. At least I think I do. a psychiatrist would tell me I don't.
There is apprehension that he will show at my sister's wedding. we're pretty sure he recieved the save the date card. we want him there. We miss him. I know his felings are hurt that he won't be walking her down the aisle. But sine we can't realy count on him showing...after all, he was late to his mother's funeral. he missed the service. we waited an extra 1/2 hour in the rain for him.
Sigh. I do love you Daddy.