tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post7177869116101838103..comments2024-03-28T23:56:24.570+01:00Comments on Interim arrangements: Sabinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09015827501648296977noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-45830096455388113922017-11-21T00:54:17.262+01:002017-11-21T00:54:17.262+01:00My father was a difficult, angry man. I like him ...My father was a difficult, angry man. I like him better now that he is dead than I ever did when he was alive. I can see him now as a flawed, wounded man; something I could never do when he was alive. <br /><br />If only life was so easy as identify problem, fix problem. So many are like that. Women seem to understand better that life is often unfixable and we need to figure out a way to carry on in spite of this. My life so farhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16721270441968035994noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-28268203278164648602017-11-20T16:49:32.450+01:002017-11-20T16:49:32.450+01:00I sympathize. with your relationship with your fat...I sympathize. with your relationship with your father, with being awake at night and your mind going over old old old things, why am I thinking about this when I should be sleeping. my father didn't have conversations, he lectured. and when he wasn't lecturing you, he was being verbally abusive telling you what a terrible person you were and what would their friends think. both parents social climbers who couldn't quite reach the height they aspired to. As soon as I was out of their house I cut off contact for several years. eventually he had a stroke and lost his ability for speech. by the time he regained it, the experience had humbled him completely and we eventually reconciled. he's dead now, another massive stroke did him in. you listen without responding in a way I never could once I learned to stand up for myself. ellen abbotthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00535475792150335186noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-35681540420863726772017-11-20T14:39:42.362+01:002017-11-20T14:39:42.362+01:00Incredibly beautiful writing Sabine. One can feel ...Incredibly beautiful writing Sabine. One can feel your sadness...it’s palbable.<br /><br />Why do we love people who do not earn it? Who only take? Why do some people lack empathy completely? Trying to understand is good but at what cost? Hugs to you and to the little girl inside of you. Linda dhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01167854309289774316noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-84020894348291068222017-11-20T14:09:52.093+01:002017-11-20T14:09:52.093+01:00Thinking about all you wrote. Looking at the phot...Thinking about all you wrote. Looking at the photo of you and your brother and your father walking in the rain. Wondering who took the photo. Recalling the last time I saw my father before he died and how relieved I felt when he died and how relieved I am that our last visit did not produce a sad or negative memory. It was more like a truce, and then suddenly the war was over forever. I was so tired of feeling hurt by him by the time that he died at age 89. Exhausted. I'm reminded, too, that a first cousin asked him (soon after my mother died in 1994) which daughter he thought was most like him. He told her that I was most like him. It didn't appear that way to me. Perhaps he was not comfortable with the part of himself that he saw in me. The part that I was free to be, and he wasn't. Thank you for always writing from your honest heart, even on these dark, damp, cold November days before the turning point that brings more light once again.amhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09212213177713917828noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-39193621480411654182017-11-20T03:36:40.626+01:002017-11-20T03:36:40.626+01:00I'm sorry your relationship with your father i...I'm sorry your relationship with your father is so complicated and painful. It's very sad that he doesn't really know how to understand other people's pain, and worse that he actually dismisses it. Some people are broken and have no empathy. It is truly their loss.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-45127354295505145572017-11-20T02:37:21.805+01:002017-11-20T02:37:21.805+01:00It sounds very wearing, your relationship with him...It sounds very wearing, your relationship with him. A heavy thing to carry, yet you do. <br /><br />My relationship with my father was toxic, a good use for the word in this instance. He was a mean and distant alcoholic. I only remember two short instances in my life when he was kind. And never, in the 68 years of his life, did he ever once hold my hand.livhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00091094639074377780noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-80759674064347924442017-11-19T23:01:20.576+01:002017-11-19T23:01:20.576+01:00I hardly ever write about my father. I guess I lov...I hardly ever write about my father. I guess I love him on some level; a level so basic that I'll never understand it or come to terms with it. However, I certainly didn't like him. He was selfish in a way men were allowed to be back in the bad old days. They wasted their humanity on selfishness.Colettehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13929646037752189809noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-7912762875842658422017-11-19T19:10:30.734+01:002017-11-19T19:10:30.734+01:00Oh ... fathers. Mine was a bully - and it was a hu...Oh ... fathers. Mine was a bully - and it was a huge liberation to realise that I didn’t have to love him. I have, since he died, been mildly curious about what made him into the man I knew, but then decided I have better things to do with my time. I have no idea if this helps you in your complex relationship with your father - but I found it freeing to accept that he was the way he was and I didn’t have to agree, or kowtow, to him. There is, briefly, grieving for the relationship you’ve never had - but this is nothing compared with the years I spent wishing he was different.JOhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03127111575563904349noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-73888257496792729872017-11-19T18:31:51.550+01:002017-11-19T18:31:51.550+01:00How awful to have your illness so casually dismiss...How awful to have your illness so casually dismissed, especially by someone you could reasonably expect to care about you deeply. And how easy it is for men to write off things they don't understand about women as caused by over active imaginations and hormones. And yet - he produced you! I hope you'll feel better by your birthday. Happy day in advance...mollyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03797484583400519909noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192718134910479930.post-376708550902104322017-11-19T18:16:41.523+01:002017-11-19T18:16:41.523+01:00For whom does memory soften with age? Certainly no...For whom does memory soften with age? Certainly not for me. It only compounds, it would seem. And with interest. <br />Your writing is unbelievably beautiful, Sabine. They way you can convey mood and meaning astounds me. <br />And may I say that if you were like your father, you might have moved on years ago. Problem identified, solution found, there you go. <br />But obviously, you have a heart and a soul. Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.com