Now that I have caught up on sleep, I can begin to work through my weekend. The thing that is most disturbing to me was the unpleasantness from my father. Here’s the situation: Both of my brothers, my youngest brother’s girlfriend, my cousin and his wife, another cousin, and I went to a local bar on Sunday night. We ate food and drank quite a bit of alcohol. We reminisced and generally enjoyed each other’s company. My cousin L didn’t drink any alcohol so she drove us back to my parent’s house. When we got there, we continued drinking and having fun.
My father and my uncle had been talking awhile at the kitchen table when suddenly my father stands up and announces how disappointed he is in me. I was quite taken aback and at first, thought he was joking. I think the others did as well. However, he kept going. He said he and my mother had such high expectations and goals for me and how I had not lived up to a single one. He continued by adding that he paid good money for me to go to college and it seemed to have helped little.
I stood in stunned silence. My cousin J moved closer to me and I think he realized that my father wasn’t joking and that I was on the verge of tears. Everyone there was standing around in uncomfortable silence. A litany of retorts, comments, comebacks, and arguments were running through my head when my mother entered the room and told him that was enough. She then turned to me and said he was just saying that because I had been swearing. Not once in his monologue did he mention my language, though.
My brothers, bless their hearts, started rattling off my accomplishments and doing their best to make me feel better. However, my father had disappeared and didn’t hear any of it.
Even now I am on the verge of tears. It’s bad enough that I have been struggling with my identity as it is. I certainly didn’t need that, particularly from someone whom I adore. I will say the one thing that comforted me most was my cousin J. He merely stood closer to me and just by looking in his eyes, I could see he understood and knew how I was feeling. He knew that if he hugged me, I would crumble and he knew what it meant that my brothers were sticking up for me. And his smile made it easier.
My father and I have barely spoken since. We haven’t really had an occasion to as he works second shift and is asleep when I drop off my kids and at work when I pick them up. As has always been the case, neither of us will say anything and we’ll act as if nothing has changed. I know I should confront him, but I don’t have the strength.
And people wonder why I’m crazy.