When she met my dad her biggest threat was the little girl in the photos. She knew this child could end all her hopes and dreams. In the end, she fought hard and prevailed. Followed by her fear of losing him.
Had she gotten to know me then she would have learned I only ever wanted my dad to be happy. I knew he was not. Not with the woman he was presently married to. Had she invited me to tea, to walk with her, to speak with her, she would have observed I was more open minded, mature than than other girls my age. Had she just given me a chance...
But love blind her.
Love. It is a wondrous thing.
Years past. Bad feelings.
I grew tired and left.
Things happen as they should.
Years past. My dad told her how much he missed me. She contact me and flew me home. What do you suppose was going on in her mind moments before she got me on the phone? How much courage did she have to summon? Perhaps none. Fueled only by love for my dad.
Catholics are good for guilt. I'll allow her to have some. But...
I know how much she loved my dad.
In the years leading to dad's cancer, she and I became more than civil. I wouldn't call her friend or family, but more than civil. I respect her. I admire her. I love her, for loving my dad. As I would have back then had she just talked to me, given me a chance.
During these years, she and I have had coffee, meals, walks, shopping, good conversation.
Since my dad died, she is the only one who has behaved like family. She is the only behaving with dignity and respect. And she lost more than anyone.
Sometimes. it is perhaps best if men just stepped aside and let us ladies have tea together.
The things we could accomplish.
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