Didn't you hear me gently wrapping? (long)

coolhandluke

I got a knock on the door a few days ago from my dad. He asked to come in and talk. Mind you it had just snowed so it was cold as all get out outside. He comes in we chat about lots of things. In his mind he has partially justified his thievery from me by his being angry with me. He told me that the only reason he went back to work when I first came was so that we could "come up." "Everything I've done has been for you." At the time he kept insisting that I apply for government assistance with my business. I thought this to be a bad idea simply because the nature of cash flow has to be that what spawned it must be a repeatable process. I thought it a bad move to have a lump sum of money from which to operate and live on without testing advertising, market conditions and a host of other things. First point of anger for him. This is mainly because he thought I'd come here and have a million dollars by now. This was not my plan and honestly, I'm okay with where I am. I have sussed out who has my back because I'm me and who has my back to see how they can profit from my ideas. Second point comes now. My family for the most part do not like nor trust my father. This extends to me and I have worked tirelessly to both separate from and yet show loyalty to my father. Older people have this tendency to want to protect you from things. These people love my grandmother and by some strange extension love me as well, if nothing more than by association. They've told me lots of things related to my father regarding habits, nefarious interests, past actions and inactions. I have appreciated all of their candor yet at the same time am quick to explain that their interactions with my father while being partially related to my interactions with him are vastly different and truly none of my concern. His anger comes from my not telling him what people say about him. My reasons for this come from a desire not to commit negativity to memory for the purpose of repeating and creating tension and for lack of a better word bullshit. Secondarily I do not do so because I do not believe it to be in the interest of love to repeat negative things said about someone I care for. Armed with these damning points of contention, my father decided that he could steal from me. That though is betrayed by his saying that I wasn't to know that he had stolen from me. He had a drug deal that meant that he needed money right then but would more than make the money back and could replace it. He cried, pleaded and raised his voice. More than once I told him that this was my house and I would not tolerate him talking to me in this way. I am easily twice my fathers size and I think in the back of his mind he wonders if he could take me. I try to use that against him. He told me about all of the money that he made in the past few months out in the street "hustlin". I told him with so much money, its a wonder I did not have my bass back. That shut him down. He came again to ask for my forgiveness although I'd already given it. The last time we met he told me that he didn't know how to fix what he had done. I told him to then spend the rest of his life figuring it out. He told me that he loved me and that he was my dad. I asked him if that was even the truth. A point of justification that he attempted was to relate a story about his father being drunk and shooting at him once. I asked him if the story meant that I should pass down some type of fatherly trauma to my own son. My father is an idiot and was clearly coming down. Here is the best part: He says that he is short and needs to pay off this dealer so he could re-up. The dealer was looking for him. When I say looking, I mean that guns have eyes. He asks me for $30. I laughed at him and told him that he had audacity. He remarked that I had no idea what it took for him to even come to me. I told him that it would have been even more impressive if instead of an apology he had my money and my precious things. I have few possessions. That guitar meant so much because my grandfather's last action was to leave me the money that paid for it. He knew this Hell, he delivered the certified check. I told him that I had forgiven him not because of some loyalty or some obligation of the offspring, as he was undeserving of any such reaction. I forgave him for me. I could not allow him to poison my spirit or cause me to want to take a life or cause damage that I could not personally repair.

"Answer this question for me Dad, 'Did you come here for money or to talk to me?'" He said it was to talk to me. I know what I look like when I lie. Same eyes, same attempt to convince, same false conviction in the voice. I know my dad because I know myself. I know my darkness. I know what lies below the surface. I know my addictions. I know my vices. I know that my pain has the capacity to produce homicide on a large scale. I know that this is human. I gave him what he asked for because I told my grandmother that I would help him in spite of him. That is the last thing I will ever give my father. He went back to Las Vegas the next day. I told him that when he got settled and when I come to visit my Nana for Christmas that the payment for this money would be due in the form of a guitar of my choosing. This is a debt that will never be paid me.

Sadly his absence has revealed my own childish hope that everything will come full circle to my benefit/happiness. It makes me realize that again, I am alone in the world. When I think about it, there is a hollowing pain that I cannot describe to you with all of my vocabulary. It is all sorts sobering, chilling and completely frightening. It is my hope that this means that I simply have inward work to do. If it means that then eventually, I'll be okay. If it does not then my happiness is more subject to other people than I want it to be. I used to tell my mom that I hate people. She'd smile at me and lovingly, sweetly say, "No you don't son. You love them. You love them more than yourself. You love them so much that you place a great deal of your faith in them and then they disappoint you because after all, they are human. That is the name of this feeling. It isn't hate, its disappointment." The solution for me was to pull back and only allow certain people in. "Yeah", I thought, "this way I can be selective and they'll never get me. They won't hurt my feelings because those I choose will really love me." I didn't account for my inability to be critically selective. CHL

jeanniebeanz

CooHandLuke,

Sometimes, though we wish it with all our hearts, we cannot repair the un-repairable. I'm so sorry for your pain.

Jean

Confession

Hey, CHL...

I recall reading your story before. You will pull out of the darkness. Time will ease things. Your own capacity for understanding people will do well by you. Your stride will be found.

My Best, Brother...

LDH

You have a gift with words.

Very moving post.

People are people, and even when they are related to us and we want to think they are wonderful, they are still just people.

misanthropic

(((((CHL)))))

misspeaches

((((CHL))))

Your mother is very wise. It hurts so much more when someone we love disappoints us so greatly. I am so sorry.

Carmel

CHL, a compassionate and forgiving son! Wow! I commend you for refusing to back bite about your father! You have done yourself well to be kind in a "tough love" sort of way. You will be fine.

carmel

Billygoat

Sadly his absence has revealed my own childish hope that everything will come full circle to my benefit/happiness. It makes me realize that again, I am alone in the world. When I think about it, there is a hollowing pain that I cannot describe to you with all of my vocabulary. It is all sorts sobering, chilling and completely frightening. It is my hope that this means that I simply have inward work to do. If it means that then eventually, I'll be okay. If it does not then my happiness is more subject to other people than I want it to be.

((((CHL)))) I understand that hollowing pain. I have some pretty amazing in-laws that I would give my life for. I love them that much and without a doubt in my soul, I know they love me too. But they will never be MY parents. There is nothing that will ever fill that hole. In that aspect I feel very alone, even in the midst of the unconditional love that my husband's family has for me. I also have a wonderful husband that treats me like a Queen. But that is a different love that will never allow me to be a "little girl" in need of her daddy. The only pain-managing solution for me is to have my family entirely OUT of my life. Out of site, out of mind. It is when I have little to no contact that I heal and grow the fastest and most.

My best to you my brother.

Andi

Crumpet

Where in heck are all these brilliant writers coming from?

I think you have behaved both wisely and maturely- definitely not a chip off the old block!

coolhandluke

I thank all of you so much. The fact that we share common pain makes this truly a growing, learning, familial experience made richer by the varioius stages in which we find ourselves. I'm really glad I joined this forum and all the more so glad for risking when all of you make the challenge rewarding with your support

Your brother in pain, your brother in growth,

Dominick (of the me, we class)

Didn't you hear me gently wrapping? (long)

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