Always had an unhealthy relationship with my dad.
My mum has told me of a time when I was 2 years old, and I looked up at my dad, with eyelashes batting, and asked him if he'd take me for a walk.
It's not unhealthy like incest or like pushing my mom out of the way so he's all mine or holding lovers up to impossible standards that they'd never be like my dad. It's more like, I have forever known that my dad could kick your dad's ass. Even when I hated him so much that I carved his initials on my ankle so as to forever remember my hatred for him. Despite the fact that I know my dad is not strong physically and would probably not do well in a fist fight. It's more that I know he's always got my back. He might not have "gotten" me all the time, but he's always come around and fought for me.
My sister was never eager to acknowledge this. I once told my family flat out that I knew that dad and I got alone better and mum and my sister got along better. My parents denied any favoritism, but I wasn't looking for that kind of confirmation. Instead, I was stating the reality. Dad and I debate politics. We see humanity and get it. We try to pry deeper into the way things work and try to describe them with psychological thinking. We use our sciences of the mind to get below the nuances.
Whereas, my sister still carries the burdens of being an older, more protective sibling. She still harbors conflict with her upbringing. She might even be (still) jealous of the fact that I was always younger, less understanding of the complex and not-so-good environs in which we grew up. She protected me. I am naive. But as an adult she still carries this. She doesn't want to let go of the martyrdom she has given herself. She lives on it. As I live on my accepted "black sheep" lifestyle. I am the crazy one. The unreliable one. The one who, when power of attorney and wills are drawn up, sits back and laughs, "Well, I'm not the one who'll be around to take care of you!" ha ha. But I know the power of forgiveness, evolution, growth, and change. I have forgiven my parents for their wrong-doings in upbringing (no one is given the manual of "Perfect Parenthood"). I know that people develop over time into better or worse and accept that. I know people can grow and change. I know I can be less selfish and more giving, more responsible. My sister. Well, in all her beauty, she claims some kind of unrepentant and unrelenting cross to bear. I would - in all my naivete - like to relieve her of some of that, but it's not for me to do. It is only for me to offer the space for her to drop some controlled responsibility if she chooses to do so.
And, so, with that, I will go to my family. See what mischief I can stir up (inappropriate giggling comments during a serious moment, a hospital fuck in a closet with a male nurse - pipe dream, a trip over an important tube into an important organ). See what help I can offer (being a sub isn't all for nothing). See what can develop in this next story. And, certainly, while I'm aware of my sister's precious hold on the drama, I, too, need my own piece of it. I need a drama in my life. I need my father to struggle and survive, I need to see my Superhero Dad fight the battle and win.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
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