My biological Father and I hadn't seen each other in over 20 years
when I finally invited him and his wife to visit me in Texas when I was
35.
When you see someone in person for the first time
in that long of a separation, you finally get to ask the questions that
have been on your mind, that you could never truly express in an email
or phone call.
The second day of his visit, we were sitting on my back porch and the topic of my Mom came up; his ex wife.
He
and his new wife had this "vision" of my Mom - that she went out for
blood back in the late 1970s. But in reality, she was a paralegal at a
law firm and THEY went after him. But,
she never wanted his money. She wanted /him/. But all they saw was the
numerous lawyer letters and forms.
My Dad didn't make that much money back then and here comes the child
support and ex-spouse support. While they didn't know why my Mom "went
after them," we had no idea how poor they lived for years and sacrificed
because of it. I didn't find out until that weekend how tough it had been for them.
My Dad sat there, smoking his stupid
cigarette and asked me on this cool, crisp, beautiful morning, "Why did
your Mom hate me so much?" Without skipping a beat I answered, "she
doesn't hate you, she loves you."
He looked back at me, stunned. Absolute shock at what I just said to him.
It was one of the
most poignant exchanges I've had with a person.
I don't think he ever thought about it that way. And I never thought about it from his point of view, but then how could he? How could he know that all I ever heard while growing up was how
broken-hearted my Mom was. She missed him more than life itself. Even
30-40 years later, she still thought about him and still talked about how much she missed him. She never understood why he left, and she never got over it.
Oh, "hate" was not the word. Love was. "Love" was the word.
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