Pandora's Box

I am aware that I am a walking contradiction, even more so now that I've been in therapy. So much of my psyche is in disarray. I feel like I've been exhuming bodies and doing post-mortem examinations. I've got an RIP pile for re-burial and pile for cremation and another for revisitation at a later date when I can handle it. And then there are the graves I'm walking past, not even ready to start digging those things up.

On the surface, I seem so calm. Rob and I have talked about this, about my concern about this facade. Only he says it is not a facade. He said my true self is centered and knowing, that it is what is pulling me toward resolving the past so I can truly live in the now. He tells me that the chaos and the flaring emotions are the surface, they are the facade, and that the serenity usually I feel and that others often sense is my core-self. He gave me a little pep talk about not letting short-term setbacks distract me from my long-rage goals. And he reminded me to be compassionate with myself. He asked me to go to meditation at the Buddhist Priory tonite. I almost said yes, but I'm so tired tonite. So drained.

When I got back from lunch my cell phone was ringing. It was Tess. She was very upset, practically yelling into her phone. Seeing as she is driving across country, I thought something bad had happened. I immediately got up from my desk and walked to a conference room.
"That bastard took off and left me stranded in Kansas!" she yelled.

I knew immediately who the bastard was. Dad.

I asked what was going on. She told me Dad had been pushing to do 500 miles a day ever since they left Granddad's. It seems that they went to Oklahoma on their way to California from Massachusetts. Quite a detour. She said that Dad told her that Granddad wanted to see them, so they drove down. Ok, they have a month before she and Daryl start their new jobs, so this is a family vacation. But it seems that just before Dad flew out of California, our step-sister Caroline had some x-rays on her lungs and they found some spots there. Ok, no need to panic. She's scheduled for a biopsy end of the month. But it seems that she's been calling him and saying "Daddy, I need you, I'm dying." Which is utterly ridiculous. Tess called Christine, who said her twin (well-known for her hypochondria) is not dying from cancer and she wished Dad would stop saying that.

So, Caroline has been calling Dad, and he's been very agitated and erratic. He has been yelling a lot because it is taking so long to make the drive. Tess reminded him that he had volunteered to help, and that he flew out knowing that no one would know anything about Caroline's condition until August, and that they are not in a rush to get to California. Her husband has never been outside New England except for their honeymoon in Costa Rica, and he wanted to see some of the country. This did not go over well with him, and he threw Sean's breakfast at them in the middle of a restaurant. Fast forward to 3pm. She radioed Dad that they had to stop. It was very hot, Daryl's car was over-heating, and the kids couldn't stand being cooped up for any longer. They pulled over at a motel. Dad said he wanted to get an early start. Tess told him that he'd better get his own room then, because his snoring was keeping them all awake. He said fine, walked back to the moving truck saying he needed to get his cell phone, tossed the keys into the cab, and locked the door. I am sure there was a good row after that. Tess said she called the police and the truck rental agency. The police said they couldn't do anything, and before the rental agency's representative arrived to unlock the cab of the truck, Tess said Dad had hopped on a Greyhound bus for California. What a fucking soap opera.

I listened to the story with minimum interruptions. I made sympathetic noises in the appropriate places. It took about 15 minutes for her to let off steam. Then I said, "You know why you are so angry, don't you?" She started grousing about "that bastard" again. I stopped her. "You're not angry at him so much as yourself, Tess. You set yourself up for this. You know you can't rely on Dad for anything, and you did, again. And you are pissed off at yourself for giving in to his pleas to give him another chance. You are angry becasue you are asking yourself when you are going to learn. Maybe this time you will." And then I told her it is ok to feel angry but that I wanted her to try to let it go, to try not to hold on to her anger. It would only ruin their trip. She said I was right, that I was right about all of it.

I told her now she can take a nice, leisurely drive across country and enjoy herself, and when she gets to California, she can decide if she still wants to make room for Dad in her life, seeing as he is going to be living so near. Then I recommended that she never rely on him for anything again. She said she wouldn't. And then I extracted a promise from her. I made her promise that if she does see Dad regularly in California, that she not leave him alone with the kids, ever. "Kel..." she hedged. I told her he is erratic, he's on a lot of pain medications, and though I don't think he would dare hurt her kids they way he did us, he is incredibly self-absorbed and thus unconscious of the dangers to children. "I don't need to remind you of the things that happened to us because he wasn't paying attention." She capitulated and promised.

Then I spoke to Daryl. He is such a good man. Calmly, with genuine puzzlement in his voice, he said he couldn't understand how anyone could do such a thing as Dad had done. I told him I was sorry. I apologized for Dad, telling Daryl that he would never get one from him... in fact, I expected that a few weeks from now Dad would try to act like nothing ever happened, and would do a good job of feigning ignorance as to why they were upset with him if they remained so. I told him that my father was not like his, and was entirely unreliable. I made him promise not to rely on my father for anything, as well. And then I extracted the same promise from him as I did from Tess. I told him that if he ever left his daughter alone with Dad that he was deliberately endangering her and I made him promise not to let it happen.

Tess asked to talk to me again, and she said that if she couldn't leave her kids alone with Dad, someone was going to have to tell Sean why. He loves his Grandpa. And he's old enough now, at 13, to hear some of it, and understand. She had decided years ago not to tell her children about our childhood. She hadn't wanted to poison them against him, and she wanted him to have the second chance he begged for, a chance to prove that he wasn't a complete and utter asshole. She said that she wanted it to come from me, because I worked with kids for so many years and could probably tell him in a way that would not scar him for life, and because she was concerned that he might think that she was just saying mean things about Dad because he had hurt her. I told her ok, I would. That when they got to California and things settled down, call me and I'll talk to him. Or, when they go up to Seattle to see Daryl's brother, they can stop in Portland and I can tell him then.

It is going to be hard. But it is time. Sean needs to know, for his own safety, and for that of his little sister. The question is, how much does he need to know? Time to read up on my child psychology again, dust off some of my old skills, talk to my therapist about how to go about it. Fortunately, with my voice, I can say difficult things in a soothing way, keeping him calm as I open that Pandora's box that is the childhood his mother and I share. I made her promise, its only fair I help him understand why. Oh god help me.