Day 295


For reasons that cannot be public, my father and I got confused just now.  That is, someone thought that I was he and that he was me.

It was very interesting, for reasons more than just the aforementioned Don-ness.

The car got fucked up on our drive here.  That’s not necessarily true, because Mom thinks the brakes were an issue during the week (the rear discs seized), but I made it seem like I was really sorry (I was driving, I used the never-used parking brake, I rubbed the front tire against a curb).  The fiction had purpose though…

I was calm, because he was not.  I was hugs, because trying to reason with him would have just made his blackness scream louder, deafening the deaf man beyond his heart.  I was apologetic, because the Daddy-ness in him would connect to it; I knew it would pull the better parts of him, pull the better parts of him past the flaws, past the anger, past the anxiety and confusion.  I was who I needed to be, when he was who he was.

I thought that would just be the case with my Mom on this trip, who still seems too worn, too used up, too tired.  I guess not.

That’s why the confusion is so interesting.  As I was being confused for Don, I was acting the Don.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s