Monday – Awaiting the call/making decisions
Well, I took my week to decide what I wanted to do about my father and it’s Monday and I’m just kind of sitting here in a glazed over state of mind. I woke up with a start after endless dreams and my mind struggled to pinpoint the particular stress that was making my heart pound in my chest. The spinner in my mind landed on my father and between a rush of dream memories I realized that today was the day. Today, he’s going to call and is going to expect me to be here, in my office, and I can’t just keep avoiding him. He knows where I work, has figured out all the extensions of the department I work for (has called the front desk, the clinical space lines, the nursing station, the back offices and my line. I even saw his number pop up in the library last week.) If I keep ignoring his calls, he will simply get in his car and make the trip down here and I’ll be faced with a living nightmare with all of my work colleagues around me.
I am nearly 40 years old. I am NOT a child who has to tremble in fear in the corner anymore. I can tell this man that I do not want him in my life and even when his lying eyes reflect the worlds greatest heartache, I can turn away and resume the peaceful life I’ve carved for myself out of thin air. (What if he tells me he’s dying? – I already thought he was dead. Can I say that? Can I tell him I’m sorry you’re going to croak but I already let you go?) Dayne tells me that the best thing to do would be to write him a very straight forward letter and overnight it to his house. He says that I should say plainly, without all the tendrils of choking emotion I’m actually feeling, that he made his choice years ago and it took me years to get over it….I’m not interested in opening those old wounds, no matter what is going on.
I am of two minds. Half of me just wants to pick up the phone and say “What? What do you want? Why are you calling me after all this time and lies and heartache?” but Dayne says not to give him that chance. He knows me. He knows my father. He knows that the moment I open the door, no matter how slight a crack, he will have me controlled, manipulated and guilty again. My father has a way of making me feel so bad for him….so much like it’s my fault he’s suffering and that I somehow owe it to him to fix everything. An example comes to mind.
When I was 18 I was in my last year of homelessness. I had already formed a close relationship with the girl who came to my rescue and gave me another chance at life and it was the fall before the winter she came to find me in the middle of a freezing winter night, fearing I would freeze to death in the bitter wind. I never made up a name out there…many kids do when they don’t want to be found, but I was out there unwillingly and never thought to hide who I was. Because of this, and the uniqueness of my name, it quickly came to my attention that there was someone looking for me. Because I wasn’t hiding, I was fairly easily found (I called a number he had left with a group of kids I kind of knew, asking they call him if I were to turn up). It was my father and although I was wary, I was kind of happy to hear from him, as odd as that may sound. What he wanted was surprising though. My mother (his first wife) had divorced him in the time I had been gone and he was already engaged to another woman he met at work. He said he wanted me to meet her, although what he really wanted was for someone over 18 to stand up for him and sign of on his marriage certificate. I learned quickly that his shotgun romance with this woman occurred the moment my mother started the divorce. The (very few) friends he still had were introduced to this woman but they were not as enthusiastic as he would have liked (he was always so disappointed in people’s reactions when he thought they should be more happy for him, which was pretty much always). He ended relations with these folks, even though they only suggested that he maybe take his time and wait a few years before settling down again after his 20 plus year marriage had just ended. He took offense to this and it doubled his desire to marry her immediately, however, he was left in a bind with no friends to stand up for him and sign off on his certificate. I think you can get a notary to do this if you don’t know anyone but I think his pride would not allow him to take that option. Anyway….he found me, pretended he wanted me back in his life, introduced me to his finance and I went to his very brief civil ceremony at city hall. His other two children were not invited, which horrified me a little but then, that was so, very much a thing he would do. I recall other kids being there…members of her family, but none of his own aside from me and that was only because I was old enough to sign.
So now I’ve been babbling through my fingers for half an hour and I’m just waiting for the damn phone to ring. I think I’ll take Dayne up on his suggestion and write the note, mail it out on my way home tonight.
I have an appointment at the courthouse on Thursday to see if I can get a peace bond against him. I talked to the very kind woman at Haven House on Friday night after work and she told me that she thinks the last reported incidents may have been too long ago to help with my request. They don’t like to issue these until an incident actually occurs, which makes sense, however, very little of what he did to me was reported. Not until much later, anyway. Not sure what will happen there but will see. I don’t have the highest of hopes, in truth. :S
If I talk to him when he calls today I’ll let you guys know. My brain feel scrambled. I feel so tired even though I slept ages last night. Eyes are already losing focus and I’m slipping in and out and in and out behind them. It’s not even 845 yet. *sigh*