Tuesday, April 21, 2009

I start to worry

I haven't heard from my dad since right around Christmas when he called to get the low down on my darling niece. 

I was happy to hear that he and his girlfriend were finally living in a house, not on the street and that he was not only working, but clean and sober. 

Generally, my father is but a fleeting thought on my horizon. Usually, I have some forewarning that he's going to come back into my world whether it's to check in or to call asking for money (which he hasn't done in a little over a year since I had to tell him no, that I was also unemployed)  The forewarning usually comes in the form of little signs. A copy of Leroy and Stitch (A sequel to Lilo and Stitch where Stitch's evil brother Leroy comes to wreak havoc) at WalMart for example, sent me directly to my cell phone with a warning to my Seester, "he's going to pop up again"

It's been a couple of years since the major dramas but it's hard for me to forget the past and the hurts. I'll never forget that I love him.

Last week it was the odor of cigarettes and faint cologne at work. One of my coworkers, at that moment, smelled just like Daddy. 

Yesterday it was a friend who missed seeing his son. 

It brought back all the late visits. Of sitting by the window waiting for him to show. Of getting a call from him that he wanted to visit before his six months home was over. That he was leaving the next week and he wanted to see us before he went. Of the time I asked to go fishing with him and he turned me down. Or the time I knocked on his door only to hear him shush his friends inside. The door never opened. He had security cameras. He knew who it was. 

I really do try to forgive him all the things. I haven't seen him in over a year and I dreaded that Christmas day. I didn't want to go. I WANT to want a relationship with him. Except that I have worried and stressed over him for so many years that I dread picking up the phone when he calls. 

Despite the fact that he feels that way, I know Daddy isn't forever. I dread that call most of all. I know he isn't in good health. The years of hard living have taken their toll. I know I should call. Be better about keeping in touch even if only to make myself feel better later, but... But. Always a but. It's so much easier to live in my little world 500 miles from his and pretend that he will be there when I am ready for him to be there. 

I try to focus on the positive. Hours spent at the Swap Meet. How he used to take me treasure hunting on the cliffs. Lobster fishing off the OB Pier. Holding on to his powerful shoulders as he swam with me around the pool. 

There have been too many little indicators. He will be popping up in my world again. I will pray that it's a positive thing. There isn't a whole lot else I can do.

1 comment:

Bratty said...

I could have written this, except about my mother. I think we have talked about it before- identical situations. *sigh* what can you do? :o( You are better than me though; I can't even answer her calls. I have gotten as far as texting her back, and sending a pic of her grandson whom she will probably never meet.