Dear loved ones,
I am titling this post D day because as days go, it felt like I got a D as a grade on a final test. That probably doesn’t make a lot of sense to you. Nor to me either.
Today is the date of my father’s death 29 years ago. At the time he wasn’t much older than I am now and that thought is bringing me sharply to attention. I wasn’t in attendance around his bedside when he passed but was the only one of his children absent from that dreaded privilege. I knew the second he passed because he came to visit me. It was 4am.
Gabby, (he always called me Gabby as my middle name is Gabrielle) I know you couldn’t be with me to say goodbye, so I am coming to you. I love you very much and I wish I was a better father to you. I wish I didn’t hurt you. Please forgive me. I am happy that your mother is still here to show you the love that I couldn’t.
I got up from my bed and went into the kitchen and waited for the call from my sister. I was told that the last thing dad said was, “Where is Gabby?”
It is a terrible thing to see a person that you love laid out in their coffin. Why is he not sitting up and smiling and ready to give me a hug and thanking me for coming for a visit? It shocked me to see him so still and cold and I broke down and hugged and shook him and tried to wake him up. Remember that I am a grown woman and not a little child, but these actions were very child like. Someone came and pulled me away, I don’t even remember who that was.
Why did I love him so much when as he said, he was not a good father to me? Was I set up to love those that abuse me? Do I mistake abuse for love? I think that has been my pattern. A pattern that must be broken and templated into a new one, a better one, where love is love and abuse is abuse.
So today, someone told me they loved me. A manly someone. I didn’t know how to respond because he hasn’t abused me one little bit. He is kind, and sweet and generous, and handsome and very sexy. He is attentive too. But and I hate to say but, because it throws everything I just said out the window. But…..
Some more work needs doing on my patterns. There is someone who calls me slut and whore and I have responded exceedingly well to those missiles.
So, it is a D day. Barely passing grade, more work required.
I have been craving, and craving badly all day wanting to message DM. I started an email but deleted it. The pull is so strong. I wish he would say something finally and put me out of my misery. End it or start it. Something. Anything.
Thank you loved ones for being with me on this page today. I appreciate you being here. I love you. Hugs & Kisses, Summerhill Lane xoxo