Friday, November 23, 2007
I went to my aunt and uncle's house in Long Island for Thanksgiving. Like usual, I didn't want to go, but once I was there, it was fine. My aunt's family was there and they're very nice and everyone was in good spirits.
My uncle spoke to me about my father. I haven't spoken to my father in nineteen years. I actually thought it was fifteen years as if that makes a difference. I haven't spoken to my father in nineteen years. Gosh. I didn't realize until writing that down that it was that long ago...
Moving on, I cut my father out of my life because he was a jerk. When I was sixteen, my parents got divorced, all kinds of parental drama ensued and I moved out and moved in with my grandparents. I was angry. Really angry. I lived in fear of my father for so long and then something clicked, I realized I didn't have to be terrified of him any longer.
As I got older, I had to deal with my anger and trust issues. I had my share of bad boyfriend choices in my early twenties thanks to his example. I worked hard to work through my issues and I'm still working on issues that sprung out of my relationship with my him. Over the years, I felt the best way to live my life was to keep him out of mine. My expectation was that I would never, ever speak to him again.
So yesterday, my uncle, his brother, spoke to me about father. That my father has been unable to move on from that point nineteen years ago when I moved out and stopped talking to him. He is consumed by what happened and cannot get past it. What happened between us is his biggest regret, and that he's stuck. He's stuck and cannot move on.
To think that I have impacted a person like this, that someone is unable to go forward in his life, and that this person is my father broke my heart. I always assumed his life went on just like mine did. I actually thought that he never cared about me at all and was only angry that I turned my back on him, angry that I held this grudge.
It is more important to me to have him move forward in his life than it is for me to continue this silence. I've decided to call him this weekend. What am I going to say? My uncle suggested that I start with hello. He said it doesn't have to be a long conversation, that it's ok if it's just a five-minute phone call, but that it has to start somewhere.
It's time for me to end the silence and let my father, and myself, heal from this and move on.