Just Like My Father

Sunday, Feb. 3, 2002

Hi Kate,

So my mom used my and Joe's Vegas excursion last month--and my brother being out of the house, having agreed to watch our house, dog and cat--as an opportunity to ask my dad what the frig they were going to do--about their marriage. He moved out. He moved in with someone else--another woman.

None of this was a surprise, really. I think the biggest shock to me was my mom finally saying something. (Go mom!!)

But I'm left with a mixed bag of feelings about my dad. It's easy for me to think he's being "stupid." Stupid seems to have been my word of choice, that is, when it wasn't "asshole."

There's more than that, though. It didn't take long for me to remember that I'm a lot like my father in very many ways. Some of those ways can be good; some, I'm thinking, not so good.

My dad likes to feel needed, for example; being needed and feeling needed don't necessarily go hand in hand. I understand this--not everyone seems to.

I've pondered the question: Could I one day leave my husband because someone else makes me feel more needed? I don't like thinking these things.

My dad is, but also I am, very emotional. He is, we are, strong in our convictions. We are stubborn. Almost everything is personal. And if it's not supposed to be anything personal, we make it personal. We also get angry easily.

My dad never forgets to tell people how important they are to him. Or at least he used to. He would always tell me I was special. Not just when I was a kid, but as a young woman, too. Though, come to think of it, it's been a while since he's said such things to me or to anyone that I've heard. Likewise, because I know what it means to him, I would try to remember to tell him I love him, give him big hugs and try to cheer him up when he's down.

I suppose over the past few years, it's like he's pulled away from his friends and family. The very concept is something I often think about or threaten to want for myself.

I've got to be better than my father in some ways, because that's what good parents are supposed to do: raise their kids to become better than themselves.

I've been struggling with my feelings, and I think I can have some compassion for my father's sad heart. Really, if he and I are anything alike, I should understand that that's probably been precisely the case.

I don't know. I haven't talked to him. He would need to call me, unless I called him at work. I'm not sure I'm ready to extend an olive branch. But if he calls, well, we'll see.

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