30 January 2014

Today is day four on my way of recovery from the weekend. I think I am getting better. At least I have started to laugh a little bit about some of the stuff he did and said. A sort of incredulous laughter. Did he really do that, say that and that and that? Yes, he did.
But for the time being I am not answering my father's calls. Just a precaution. I don't want to treat him like shit or - following my sibling's advice - a rude 85 year old child. Or be his rude 56 year old daughter in return. This time, I will lick my wounds a bit longer and then do the grand magnanimous thing of forgive and forget. Anyway, that's the plan.
There is this tall, skinny man I remember, grating apple into our muesli in the warm kitchen of our crammed little flat. He is blowing a lock of his unruly blond hair from his forehead. We know he will tell us a funny story once he is finished and we can all start our breakfast.


  1. Difficult people to fathom, fathers; it takes a lifetime (theirs and yours).

  2. So much here in so few words. You are good at that. I am glad things are a bit better.

  3. Welcome home!

    I appreciate how you write about this recent experience.

    Only now have I started to be able to laugh and forgive and forget the pain I experienced in connection with my father who died in 2003 at age 89. Fortunately, our last time together (his 89th birthday, when I was 53 years old) was mostly peaceful. Today I can see that I had about as much patience with him as he had with me. He told one of my cousins that I was the daughter who was most like him. That was a sobering thought. I would never have guessed that.

  4. You have a wise view. Some things cannot be changed and all we can do is choose our response to them.