Disappointment
So I am supremely disappointed.
I really thought it would be a great time for me and dad. I didn't realize how excited I was about it.
I think the best indicator of my original surprise was in the words I said beforehand to David: "He'll say no, he won't take off work for this."
So when he said, "I think I'd like to go," it blew my socks off.
But, he has changed his mind. He doesn't think he can sit in a car that long.
I guess I don't blame him.
A lot of different things happened right then.
I feel like a stupid little boy. You know, the one who's dad didn't make it to the piano recital. And as he sits, playing his piece nervously, he keeps looking into the audience to see if his dad is there. He looks harder and harder, so much so that he's spending more time looking away than at the keys. So now he's making mistakes, and getting frustrated and mad, and he still can't find his dad. Because his dad isn't there to be found.
I aged about ten years, I think. It's a tough realization that your parents are old. Mine got a late start, I suppose. But to hear dad say that it just about kills him to sit in the truck and drive to Amarillo... just brings home the reality that my parents aren't young anymore.
I think it hurt his feelings... when he asked how old David Wilson was. I think he was expecting me to say, "oh, David is 35."
But instead, I answered, "He's 55."
Dad was just silent. And then he said, "Well, he must be in some shape." And I explained that David swam every morning.
So then dad changed the subject and we started talking about my broken car. And that was just aggravating to me, because I didn't want to talk about anything else. I didn't want to talk.
But I couldn't let dad know I was disappointed, because I didn't want him to feel any worse than he already did.
So I hung up, and was pretty upset. And I started finding things to blame it on. And I got a little bitter. But then I let it go.
It's kinda hard... it's like, just another occasion when someone won't be there. Kinda like when I moved to college. Nobody came with me. And it hurt. And I think it scarred.
And I think this will too. And now I don't want David to go, either, because then the shadow of disappointment will be over the trip. And he'll know that I'm upset that my dad couldn't go.
And I suspect it'll become one of those hurts that we bury... but lives for a long, long time.
I don't want him to come with me and be in pain. That's not cool. It's just really disappointing.
So back to blame... I blame it mostly on his smoking habit. If he didn't smoke, surely he'd be in better health. After all, David is dad's age, and still doin' pretty good.
I get really frustrated with my parents. Dad smokes, and doesn't care enough to quit. And mom is woefully sedentary. It really aggravates me.
Anyhow. Really upset about it. And I feel like dad is going to have a bad week at work, because all the time I am driving, he's going to be sitting in his offie, or doing some other hellaceous thing he doesn't like to do, knowing that he wishes he'd gone with me, or COULD go with me, or whatever. And I will feel bad because he's having a bad week. Not that it would be my fault. But still.
Maybe someday I can fly him and mom up here and they can have a good time. Yeah, right, since mom LOVES to fly and all.
I quit.
I really thought it would be a great time for me and dad. I didn't realize how excited I was about it.
I think the best indicator of my original surprise was in the words I said beforehand to David: "He'll say no, he won't take off work for this."
So when he said, "I think I'd like to go," it blew my socks off.
But, he has changed his mind. He doesn't think he can sit in a car that long.
I guess I don't blame him.
A lot of different things happened right then.
I feel like a stupid little boy. You know, the one who's dad didn't make it to the piano recital. And as he sits, playing his piece nervously, he keeps looking into the audience to see if his dad is there. He looks harder and harder, so much so that he's spending more time looking away than at the keys. So now he's making mistakes, and getting frustrated and mad, and he still can't find his dad. Because his dad isn't there to be found.
I aged about ten years, I think. It's a tough realization that your parents are old. Mine got a late start, I suppose. But to hear dad say that it just about kills him to sit in the truck and drive to Amarillo... just brings home the reality that my parents aren't young anymore.
I think it hurt his feelings... when he asked how old David Wilson was. I think he was expecting me to say, "oh, David is 35."
But instead, I answered, "He's 55."
Dad was just silent. And then he said, "Well, he must be in some shape." And I explained that David swam every morning.
So then dad changed the subject and we started talking about my broken car. And that was just aggravating to me, because I didn't want to talk about anything else. I didn't want to talk.
But I couldn't let dad know I was disappointed, because I didn't want him to feel any worse than he already did.
So I hung up, and was pretty upset. And I started finding things to blame it on. And I got a little bitter. But then I let it go.
It's kinda hard... it's like, just another occasion when someone won't be there. Kinda like when I moved to college. Nobody came with me. And it hurt. And I think it scarred.
And I think this will too. And now I don't want David to go, either, because then the shadow of disappointment will be over the trip. And he'll know that I'm upset that my dad couldn't go.
And I suspect it'll become one of those hurts that we bury... but lives for a long, long time.
I don't want him to come with me and be in pain. That's not cool. It's just really disappointing.
So back to blame... I blame it mostly on his smoking habit. If he didn't smoke, surely he'd be in better health. After all, David is dad's age, and still doin' pretty good.
I get really frustrated with my parents. Dad smokes, and doesn't care enough to quit. And mom is woefully sedentary. It really aggravates me.
Anyhow. Really upset about it. And I feel like dad is going to have a bad week at work, because all the time I am driving, he's going to be sitting in his offie, or doing some other hellaceous thing he doesn't like to do, knowing that he wishes he'd gone with me, or COULD go with me, or whatever. And I will feel bad because he's having a bad week. Not that it would be my fault. But still.
Maybe someday I can fly him and mom up here and they can have a good time. Yeah, right, since mom LOVES to fly and all.
I quit.
posted by Elmo at 8:59 PM
1 Comments:
i know it's gotta hurt deep for your parents to not want to be involved in your move. so after you lament for however long it takes for you to accept it, you gotta just not let it get to you anymore. sometimes when i get frustrated by my parents, i replay the scenes in my imagination and put myself in their place and my own child in my place and do what it is i think best. in other words, i try and rewrite the circumstances on my heart so i don't bear and later burden my own children with the same hurt. it may be ineffective, but i don't know that yet.
we are each have our own life's story, and the older we get, the less our parents influence it. God is in charge, always has been.
yeah, let it go.
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