It's only duty that compels my presence when he calls. I cannot stand him. Love? If any, it is so deeply buried and twisted and polluted that it would not be recognized as a member of the species. I know it's unnatural. But that's what family is to me. A collection of abusive strangers, past or present.
And my only strategy is silence. When I offer a more active presence, say, when I stupidly rise to his false pleas for help, there is no suggestion that will ever work. So it's just the endlessly repeating litany of his complaints. I let it puddle on the floormat, usually. I've learned, mostly. He just wants information so he can criticize. He came right out and asked where I live, and what I do for a living. What am I supposed to do? Not answer? But then I said that I really didn't want to talk about myself. "I'm a very private guy." "So am I, even more private." Then you should understand where I'm coming from. That's what he "apologized" about later. Any time someone speaks honestly to him, he must suppose they've been offended.
Oh, excuse the interruption. That was my son, N. He's doing the CF sectionals, qualifiers for the Games in three months. Like the Olympics, only interesting and much better. They just posted what the workouts will be for Day One, this Saturday. Absolutely grueling of course, but I said, "You will absolutely kill this. It's like it was made for you." So that's fantastic. Now, what was I saying? Can't seem to recall. No matter. It can't have been important.
Isn't it a great day?
J
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