Holidays And Endings

After that first stretch of holidays that was consumed by being sick and some work, I settled into a beautiful holiday routine.  Starbucks in the mornings, once I got Ivy off to school.  Some days Starbucks all day.  I don’t love anything I have written, but I do love that I have written.  And it has helped me so much.  It’s not beautiful writing.  But maybe it can’t be yet.  I’m still too affected by it.  It’s like someone trying to reflect poetically on their divorce when the divorce hasn’t even finalized yet.  There is still too much pain and anger.  I wonder how to ever write about it more eloquently.  There is nothing eloquent about it.  Even if I could write about the good times eloquently, that might be enough to mend it together to be a palatable story.  

I saw my dad yesterday.  We paid off the loan.  He was so happy to see me, and I felt the same.  He gave me a big hug.  Not an awkward obligatory hug, but a big, sincere hug.  He still loves me.  At the end of our appointment, I told him it was good to see him.  He said the same and said hopefully soon we can see each other more.  I told him it isn’t likely to get fixed with mom.  I told him that the things she does are not normal mother daughter occurences.  I told him that those things leave me a wreck and I can’t be a wreck and be a good mother myself.  He said that he doesn’t want me to be a wreck.  And I said that I can’t help that that is what it does to me.  He said that it’s not like that all the time.  I said, that is every abusive person.  No one is like that all the time.  It doesn’t make it not damaging. I reiterated that I can’t have it in my life anymore.  I told him that I miss him so much and wish that he could accept me even if I can’t let her back in.  I wished that he could forgive me and be in my life.  He told me I have to see his side. I told him I do, and that I realize that it would be so hard.  But that I still wished he could accept me, forgive me, understand.  He did not give me that, but I can’t know his silence was him saying he doesn’t forgive me.  Regardless, I gave myself something by asking again.  I feel more peace knowing that even if I don’t see him again, the last time memory I have of my dad won’t be that awful meeting. It will be that hug.  It will be hearing about his new car.  It will be me telling him that I love him and miss him.  

I accept myself more today than I have in a long time.  Not just today, but since writing so much of it out over the last couple of months, and most specifically last week.  If ever I slip back into doubt and guilt, I need to read it all again.