My Dad Dream

So, my dad has been gone now for over five months. It was all kind of sad, really.

My step-sisters. Again, all kind of sad. There sure were times when I wished they were gone from my life. And then I realized as my dad was failing, that we had reached a fork in the road and that decision is mine.

They were in my life way longer than they weren’t in it. And I figured that they’d always be there.

Don’t get me wrong. Not really any love loss there. Their daddy left them when they were small and was gone for like 7 years. 7 years they didn’t know if he was alive or dead. And it fucked them up. They each have their personality difficulties.

Over the years, I did do various things to really try to help them out. And to varying degrees I always got screwed over. But I acknowledge now, that at the time, it wasn’t as though they had asked me for help. I had sort of forced it on them. Therefore, nothing was appreciated the way I thought it should be; and now I understand why. But the truth is that I really can’t think of anything they ever did for me. I’m sure there must have been something.

I was close to each of them at various times. The youngest one had her shit together more so than the other 2, and we used to get along pretty well. She lived with me once, and then lived near me also. When I went to my hometown I’d visit her at her house with her 1st husband. We always had fun.

She went to Texas for a little while, but didn’t make it there and returned to the family home.

The family home.

I understand a lot about energetics now; things I didn’t understand many years ago. When my step-mom was first sick, I’d spend some time there at night. And I remember that I wouldn’t sleep there without my shoes on. I didn’t have the language for it, but I needed to be able to get out in a hurry if necessary. There is just something wrong there.

The last time I saw my dad, (and every other time I was there since I moved south) I’d sit outside his house and have a little talk with myself, about how it wasn’t going to matter what I said, no one would take it seriously, so put a lid on it about the energetics there. Because there is something very wrong there. 

The youngest step still lived there. Actually, my dad sold her the house a few years ago so as part of an estate management thing. Since the day my dad introduced me to them, I basically had to have a relationship with them to see him. When I moved to NC, for some reason, the youngest step got increasingly pissed at me. The first time I was back she said something about her resenting that I’d moved. It was probably an abandonment thing. I get it.

But that didn’t mean it was fun. She ruined every trip I made up there.

When she moved back to that house, something happened to her. I know it’s the house because her mom used to act the same way there. All crazy eyes and scream. Holy shit they could scream. The resemblance was so uncanny that it was hard to take. She was totally batshit crazy; in a way she never was when she didn't live there. So much unhappiness in that house. So much pain. Something always wrong; very wrong. Children unhappy. Adults unhappy or gravely ill. 

And there is definitely something wrong with the house. Last time I was there, after having that little talk with myself, she started to go off on her dad because he wouldn’t set foot in her house, saying there was something bad there. And she just wouldn’t let it rest.

And I ended up opening my mouth and essentially agreeing with her dad. I mean the fact is, 4 cases of cancer came out of that house, and three of them slept in the same area. With what I know, I know that is not coincidence. What can I say? I'd just driven 15 hours straight through alone. And I certainly could have been more skillful......

Oh, holy shit, did she just lose her mind. She was so much so that a few months later when my dad got sick, she didn’t call me to tell me because she was still so mad at me. My dad had been in the hospital for a week; sick longer. And she didn't call me because her feelings were hurt about a house. A house.

The middle child figured it out and called me. The middle child is my current favorite. She got all sober, where sobriety became her new addiction, and she was decidedly less fun, but still. And she called me the night before, and made sure that I talked to dad. I will always be grateful for that.

And I may always despise the youngest for what she did. It was one of the reasons that I held off going up there, was because I didn’t want to cause drama.

I’m not really sure how to get over that one. She might be the next forgiveness letter I have to write.

And anyway. The other night I had my first dream about my dad.

We were at his old shop, where my nephew lives now. And dad was talking about trying to rent the place, and I asked, well, doesn’t john still live here? Well, he did, but he died.

And I felt just terrible that no one told me. The middle child is his mother, so….But again, it wasn’t real, but it did bring me to the place of asking again. To be or not to be?

I’d have a relationship with the middle child, easily. I probably even could with the oldest, it’s just that it’s a lot of work to always know where your purse is at every minute when you are with her. If you don’t walk around with your bag clutched to your chest, you could pay dearly.

But the youngest. Sometimes people do things that alter a relationship forever. And she might have done that. I’ve seen the middle child several times where and not the youngest. And I could do that, it’s just that to leave her out feels really polarizing, and I think that it’s important that they be sisters; something they have always sucked at. And I care more about the youngest one’s feelings than I do about having a relationship with the middle child. Hard call.

I live 15 hours away from them, so it’s not like it’s this immediate thing….. but I do not know what the right decision is. Sometimes, especially since dad died and that was really hard, sometimes I miss her. But for now just have to let it be.