Guilt, Pain and a Father

Photo by "Takras" of Flickr

My father is out of work. He has been out of work for a while. My mother found he left the country to follow a wild fantasy of his own. She accepted him back, but it's not the same. He has a million regrets.

I feel terrible for him, cause I know what it feels like. What it feels like to remember sharply a wrong you did years ago. How it bites you and torments you to the point where you want to strike out against something, but the only one to blame is yourself. I KNOW HOW IT FEELS.

What I don't is how to help him. To let him realize how much I respect him. To have him realize all the good he's done. It's the fatal flaw of the perfectionist; there is only one score you keep, and that's how many shots you gave up.

These are easy to calculate, but the other's are always harder for some reason. There was someone who did a study that said that a person has to have 7 times as many good things happen to him as bad for them to accept things as generally good. I don't know if he's right, but it seems correct. It's a hard tally to keep.

I love my father, and more than that I empathize. I KNOW what he's feeling; I FEEL what he's feeling. My mom loves him too, but she does not know what he feels. To her it's a science experiment; you can explain in detail every bit of the story, but the greater meaning is lost. She doesn't feel it; but she understands that I understand... and she has no idea how.

I want to break through to my dad, so we can communicate as friends. So he can understand he's not alone, to understand we're in this together, to understand I'd do anything for him... cause as his son I know he'd do anything for me. I just don't know how.

Currently listening to: The Mission (M is for Milla Mix) by Puscifer