Life With Boys

Despite my many attempts to tell him that I saw this coming before Mom even passed away, he’s seeing me as the spoiled daughter who won’t let him get on with this life.

And he’s upset that I’m not jumping for joy about this. It’s not because it’s too soon (but the thought has crossed my mind.) I’m annoyed because he can’t figure out how to stand on his own two feet for even a month. It’s that he’s instantly looking for “someone to buy the toilet paper” (and water the plants, and feed the dogs, and make the food, and do the laundry.)

And it’s frustrating me to no end.

I’m sure she is wonderful and all the things he’s told me are true. That’s fine.

It’s not that I see her as a threat or an evil step-monster – her influence in my life will be a ripple. She would be my Dad’s “companion” for lack of a better word at this point. If she can make him happy, great. If she is what he’s looking for, yeah. I don’t know what to say to all of this.

But what I need him to understand is that he’s not the only one impacted by this. That he still needs to remember he has daughters and grandkids who need to be remembered. That’s it’s not all about him, all the time.

I’m most concerned for the boys. I know what it is like to have an uninvolved Grandfather. It makes you feel like he just forgot you are there at all, but are somehow making time for all of the others.

I know it’s my choice to live here, “far away” from the world within which I am most familiar, comfortable. But it’s been a good choice.

For now, I’ll just lay low and let things play out. When he’s ready to talk with me again, I’ll be there.

I love you Dad and I hate this.