Day Nine - My Dad

THIS GUY.  After we went to Europe together and the state of my life and my mind became apparent he's taken more of an interest than ever before.  He feels like he dropped the ball - as though my misery and the failure of my marriage are something that he could have prevented.  I know he worries about me and I hate it.  74, living on a farm and managing on a pension, he constantly asks me if I need financial help and when I say no he peppers me with discount fuel vouchers, home grown produce and presents.  It makes my heart ache.  Today he brings me marigolds for my daughter's garden, peaches from his orchard and the ever-present fuel vouchers.  He grins at me over lunch, three teeth left on the bottom.  "Get yourself a chest freezer.  We've got a sheep with your name on it."  Organic grass fed lamb coming my way.  And then he shyly asks me if he can have prints of the photos I took in Europe.  Sure Dad, any enlargements?  Only you and me on the boat in Brugge.  The one where you look like yourself for the first time in years.  And maybe one of me with the brothers.  You got it Dad.

Our trip to Europe was an eye-opener for my Dad.  I'd obviously been covering things well because he knew I was unhappy and that there were issues in my marriage but he had no idea.  Charles lost control about a week into my trip away and there was no way for me to hide.  Dad saw the way I couldn't stop crying, he read the emails full of vitriol.  Rebow, he said firmly, this is abuse and you cannot allow this to continue.  I will not allow it to continue. I nodded, agreed not to speak to Charles anymore while we were away and started putting myself back together,  A week before we were due to come home Dad started to cry over his breakfast because he said he'd forgotten what I'm really like.  He hadn't seen me so happy and relaxed in years and he said I looked young again.  Like myself.  He begged me to not go back to Charles and the four-day long headache in the lead-up to the flight home told me he was right.



I decided to lay it out for Charles.  Apologise for the things I was sorry for and offer to start new.  I may as well not have bothered - he said he was done and as much as I was devastated, I was also relieved.

Dad calls at least once a week to make sure I'm okay.  It's a part of my shame that I make him worry about me.  I should be looking after him and not the other way around.  My God but I love him.  And for him as well as my kids I am strong and present in this world.  I keep this photo handy to remind me of why I can't go back and must never tolerate that kind of behaviour again.  Because I like being happy and I hate breaking my father's heart.