dad. And in doing more exploration this morning, I found something new.
to do to feel complete, better, satiated, heard. I paused, as it took a moment
to see something; My vengeance wants for my dad to suffer as I did, to
acknowledge and atone for his abusive and neglectful behavior. But, I saw just
then, this is something my vengeance cannot have. It wants something it can’t
have, and so, I said, what it needs, really, is to stop hunting.
that I’ve wanted so badly, have twisted myself and my relationship to the
world, god, myself in order to bring to fruition, is a fool’s errand. It is of
non-consquence. It is a quest that cannot be completed.
quest for punishment and retribution, and to accept. Accept that surrender.
vengeance is something else. Because, what my vengeance wants is for my father
to recognize his brutality, and to change it. It doesn’t and won’t stop at
acknowledgement; I want change. I want him to heal.
father realizes his wrongs, deeply acknowledges them, atones by being
remorseful and by taking actions to
right himself, to heal his hurt places. Because of my actions, because of my
anger, my father lives. My father is saved. Because of my indignation, he gets
and intention behind my anger, because it fits with me, with who I am, and my
motivations. With how I tried to behave with my mom, but that took a much
different form. I wanted to do the same thing with my dad; the flip side of the
coin – love/hate. Save her with love; save him with hate.
is not my job, and I am not capable of saving or changing anyone. My mother
changed because she decided to. My mother didn’t kill herself because she
decided not to. It wasn’t me.
It’s time to stop hunting… but I realize only now that I have been like Snow
White’s Huntsman: plotting to kill, but really intending to save.
change that I have to stop my quest and accept that my life is to be lived for
me, and not in order to align with or rebel against my father’s ideologies. But
it does change how I feel about myself. About my motivations. And, actually, it
does make it a little easier to let go.
made a life’s work of being what he has wanted or not wanted me to be. I
realized this love this morning.
three versions of my father: the good dad (sports, camping, teaching me how to
swim dad), the neglectful dad, and the angry shaming dad. The rub is that I
can’t know who is on the other end of the phone when I call; I can’t direct
dial the good dad.