A quiet desperation has taken hold of me lately. A questioning disposition sits perched on my shoulder. Why? WHY? Tonight is going to be hard on my dad, I already know. I have to go to work soon, and he will be home around 5:30, only to be greeted by an empty house, well except for the dog. Change is one of those things that’s constantly bombarding me, but that I never seem to get used to. Will my dad and I, belonging to the group of men commonly referred to as “nice guys,” really finish last? Are we destined to be used by women because we don’t feel the need to abuse them? Because relatively we could be seen as predictable? Because deep down we have so much genuine love to give? We have trouble expressing it in words, but we are good at doing our best to show it. She came from the lowest rung, and my father saved her from that. He gave her all she could ever want, and most importantly, he gave himself to her. And what does he get in return? He gets deceived and manipulated. He wakes up one night to find half the cash in his safe gone, along with a gun, and his wife. Why should I believe in romantic love? I’ve never seen it work in the long term. I’ve seen the aftermath of my parents divorce, and now my dad’s getting ready to go through it again. It’s all fluffy kisses and butterflies at first. Then one day you wake up and you don’t feel like getting out of bed, because the person you thought loved you, who would accompany you into old age and the darkness beyond, left you behind like so much hot garbage. “The afternoons are the hardest,” he keeps telling me. And I know what he means. The approaching darkness, the long shadows, indicative of that unknown night that comes to take us all away. It’s what makes us want someone to love, someone to hold our hand and walk with us into that darkness. I know my dad will be okay eventually, just like I was, well maybe okay’s not the right word, but I know he will survive like I did. And it will make him stronger. I just hope he finds someone who genuinely loves him, flaws and all, and who can appreciate him, and give him what he needs. Until then, I will be here, offering the best I have. I will strive to keep us both afloat. I want to give up, stop looking for love, because it seems like a fools errand, a sure way to heartache, and a sea of trouble, but I can’t bring myself to do it, and I can’t let him.
So I wish I could tell it all, but neither of us have time for that.
The smell of ramen noodles cooking in a styrofoam cup in the microwave
takes him back to his grandfathers house many years ago.
At the time he thought he was his uncle, and he thought
that because that’s what he was told by his mom.
But his mom finally told him one day that he was her dad,
and consequently not his uncle but his grandfather.
I don’t know if I discovered my parents lying to me before,
but this is one of the first times I can remember.
So why’d she tell us we were visiting Uncle Ronnie
instead of saying Grandpa Ronnie? Well as you may
have guessed it had something to do with them not having
a very close relationship. Her mom, my grandma, divorced Ronnie
when my mom was very young, and remarried.
So why’d they divorce? Well because he was in prison I think.
He robbed a bank, probably to satisfy my grandmother’s love of money.
Then he goes away for it, and I assume they divorced sometime after that.
So my grandma got remarried to a really great guy, who I sometimes feel sorry for.
My mom knew him as Dad all her life. So maybe now you see why I knew
my mom’s biological father as Uncle, and my “step”grandpa as Grandpa.
Just to make things weirder, my mom got divorced when I was pretty young,
and she remarried a few years later. Fortunately, she didn’t tell me my dad
was my uncle, of course I wouldn’t have believed her if she had, but still.
there is so much complexity regarding human relations, because they aren’t
always, in fact, they rarely are grounded in rational thinking or logical explanation.
So many lies are told, often with good intentions, but regardless they are told
and trust is lost, and trust is one of those things thats really hard to find once
it’s lost, kind of like faith.
So this was my first post in what seems like a millenia, I have been wanting to post for so long but have just not been able to find the time. I will try to catch up with your blogs, at least the newest stuff. Shoot me a comment to keep me motivated plz 🙂