Dear Dad

His CDs arrived today. Four of them. I need so much time to take things in right now that I can barely listen to them.

I hate the word happy and all of its synonyms.

This morning I discovered that D and I grew up in the same 'hood. We attended the same middle school. Played on the same train tracks. Got soakers in the same creek. Spent summers swimming in the same community pool.

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

Dear D,

I want to tell you a story
About why I can't stop smiling today
It's a bit long...

On the weekend I helped E. buy a teapot. He had invited a woman he likes to tea. He was happy and I was so happy for him. Excuberant even.

Previously I had thought that what E. needs least is to look for a partner. I still believe that to be true; however, when I got home from our excursion it hit me that my opinion about what is "right" for him really doesn't matter. He needs to find his own way; learn his own lessons. Now that I really get this, I can be 100 per cent supportive of the decisions he makes, instead of silently judging him. It occurred to me that this is what it must be like to love unencumbered. This must be love.

On Sunday E. called to tell me that the woman had cancelled their date. Right away I thought about the teapot, the flowers he'd bought and all the time he'd spent cleaning his house. I felt so sad, and instead of brushing off the sadness I cried. I didn't try to "fix" the hurt or make it go away. I felt it. And in it I touched on the helplessness that my therapist tells me I am trying to avoid by not experiencing my emotions. I knew there was nothing I could do, and for a second that felt overwhelmingly unjust, but I let go and it was okay.

For several days I have been so full of anxiety that I can hardly stand to be in my body. I have been caught up in projecting all of the messed up stuff that happened to me when I was a child on you. All of my my fears and insecurities have risen to the surface and were threatening to take over. I didn't know how to act with you. I didn't want to act. I want to start this significant relationship with you free to be myself.

I need to keep telling myself that we have no horrible history. More important, I want to accept you.

(E. is my ex-husband.)

As I brushed my teeth a few minutes ago I thought that D is probably the kind of father who would say to me "you look nice today, honey" or even "what's wrong? you look sad."

My own "father" used to threaten to drop me off on Jarvis Street so I could "be with the other whores." Occasionally he would wait up when I was out late so he could comment on my appearance: "You look like you've been out getting raped all night." Once he asked if my breasts were real.

And then there was the silence and the secrets it held.

I realized shortly after I wrote the entry below that when D says something that I think about differently I turn it into a rejection of me. He can't just have a differing opinion; I have to feel rejected and make it about me. I know why I do this and I know I have done it many times before. I don't want to do it anymore.

God, right now I feel so neurotic and highstrung and just plain dumb. I am frustrated that I can't apply what I know to this situation with D.

D is a musician. He plays guitar and sings. I was listening to his music earlier, a cover of Sunny Side of the Street. The following lyrics stood out:

I used to walk in the shade with them blues on parade
Now I’m not afraid... this rover has crossed over

It's got me thinking about my own reluctance to cross over.

D just sent me the quote: Whatever doesn't destroy us makes us stronger.

I get the idea that my dad thinks we can substitute negative feelings in ourselves with positive ones. If we felt uncomforted, confused, afraid, exploited and small as children, that we can fill ourselves with duties and degrees as adults and forget all about our pain. After all, our childhood didn't destroy us; here we stand with two arms holding a trophy that we did not want in the first place.

I believe that if we suppress our feelings we can hide them from our conscious mind, but only for so long. They will resurface, only they will look different and be more difficult to deal with.

I get the feeling that D does not consciously look inside himself for answers, love, acceptance, guidance, joy. For me, it is the only place I can look. He thinks things just happen to people. I think we make things happen.

Or how about this. Maybe because of my disappointment and distrust in people I become tangled in my own helplessness by seeing only what I cannot change in him. It is so easy for me to overlook how open, warm, accepting and patient he has been with me. Am I still so unaccepting of my own right to peace and joy?

I say I am about acceptance yet I seem unable to accept those closest to me without negating a part of myself or flat out rejecting them.

Am I projecting my disappointment with the adults in my life on him?

Incidentally, my favourite quote is one by Rodin: There is nothing more beautiful than the absolute truth of real existence.

Revelation: there is no right and wrong here! What the fuck am I doing?

Earlier we were chatting and I said that E. is lonely like me. You asked if I had many friends. I want to clarify lonely.
I have many incredible people in my life, supportive and beautiful people. But there is something I have discovered by simply knowing you exist; feeling your kindness: parts of me were so empty.
I am afraid of feeling that emptiness again. So afraid that I am looking to sabotage this fullness I feel in my heart right now.
To have roots, a sense of belonging, I never ever ever would have imagined it would have such an impact on me. I don't want to go back to the place of longing. Belonging is so empowering. Just knowing that you care. (Just knowing that you don't want to fuck me.)

I have this image of you and me. We are together, driving. We are connected physically, emotionally, mentally. I feel so whole. I become overwhelmed with joy and instead of running away from that feeling, I embrace it. Hold it, feel it. In my dream I know that this is a time I won't have to deaden the feelings; they aren't feelings that need to be deadened. My spirit is alive.

I hold up a sign made I make with a sharpie. It reads: dear dad, you are the love of my life.
All this time I have been asking strangers for stories and here you come along and tell me the greatest story of all.

I'm so emotionally retarded, Chris. This morning what's going on between us really started to hit me hard. I printed more of your pictures, ones of you and ones that you have taken yourself.

A few of the childhood images are starting to stick in my mind. I cried during most of my morning walk. Tears of love and tears of some regret. Wishing that I had been there to see that cute little smiling girl with that snowball in her hand. I think you'll always be my little snowball girl.

Dear Dad,

Finding you is like discovering a piece of me that I did not know was missing.

Emotionally, you’ll never fully understand where I have been. Nor will I you. But when I read the following sentence that you wrote I believe I felt a connection to some of your pain:

I spent many long hours in washrooms.

I know the terror and the shame, the utter despair and isolation that lived inside those washroom stalls. I am as delighted we share those experiences as I am our devotion to Montana. Not because I am happy that we’ve both had so much pain in our lives but that, as a result of it, we will one day share a deeper understanding of each other.

I do not judge you; I will try my best to never judge you. What happened between us in the past is just that. As much as I would like to, I can’t take away the energy around what happened for you, but I want you to know that for me, it is simply not there. I see a man with a warm smile who is open and so very kind. I know also that you’re not flawless. Lord knows I am not looking for perfection! I believe that you are sincere and that means everything to me.

In this leg of my journey I am almost completely incompetent at facile chat. My longing to know myself and others more deeply, I imagine, can be somewhat overwhelming. Please know that I understand this. As I mentioned before I feel dishonest covering who I am really with what I have accomplished. Not that I am saying accomplishments are worthless, for they most certainly are not. But I suppose what I used to consider an accomplishment has been somewhat redefined in the last few years.

As you may have observed, I am fairly introverted. It takes me some time to process my emotions. So, I write. When this process began -- this healing -- I began writing to someone. I wrote a lot, and I wondered earlier today if all this time I've been writing to you.

Last night I printed out your picture, the Montana photo, and taped it beside my bed.
Wanting to be close.
This is not easy stuff.

All you need is love.
All you need is love.
All you need is love, love.
Love is all you need.

All you need is love.
All you need is love.
All you need is love, love.
Love is all you need.

3:49 PM D: are you online now, Chris?
3:50 PM me: i am, hi. i havent used gmail to chat so bear with me...
D: it's my first time on gmail, too
3:51 PM I'm trembling, Chris - this is so exciting
I've thought about you so often - I had no idea how to reach you
3:52 PM [your mother] got married and moved to Toronto - that's all I knew
I had no name, no place, no clue to follow
3:53 PM me: i am here. overwhelmed.
D: me too Chris
3:54 PM she told me she would tell you all about me
but then she got married, and I didn't know what she would do
so I assumed she would never mention me to you
3:55 PM I knew her only as M.. M......
and I never heard her maiden name
I recall that she told me her father was a policeman
but I had no name to follow up on
3:56 PM you have 3 half brothers
they know about you
3:57 PM my oldest son is a very family oriented guy - he wanted me to find you, but I had no idea how
he has a son now too - my first grandson was born in August
3:58 PM but what am I saying? you may have children, too
it's overwhelming me
4:04 PM me: i did not know. she did not tell me.
she did not tell me about you.
4:05 PM D: how did you find out about me?
it was a bad time in both of our lives
she had determined to start fresh
4:06 PM she was supposed to fly to meet me in Saskatoon at Christmas
but she didn't show up
I went to the airport to pick her up
but she didnt' show up
she phoned to tell me she was pregnant
4:08 PM I've often wondered about you
how you are
what you do
if you're happy
I hope you're happy, Chris
4:10 PM me: i dont know what to say.
D: I understand
I'm stunned too
but it must be more overwhelming for you
4:11 PM do you need time to absorb it?
I want what's best for you
me: no, please stay
i will try to type
D: ok
4:12 PM your mother tried to make it a clean break
she lied to me - told me that her first husband was your father
but I was certain that it was me
her story didn't make sense to me
4:13 PM I think she was trying to make it easier for me
if I weren't your father, I could get on with my life
that's always been my assumption
but I had so little evidence to go on
4:14 PM me: i found your letters when i was a little girl.
4:15 PM and what i remembered all my life was how you wrote out the lyrics to "all you need is love" including the instrumental parts, root toot.
D: I am a musician, Chris
I was and I am
4:16 PM me: i remembered that you asked about me.
i remembered that you played guitar.
and that there was some reference to the u of s.
D: god - no wonder you're so shocked
me: i also pretended that you were my real father.
4:17 PM and i dont know why i pretended that.
but yet i do.
i pretended you were my real father because you sounded unlike anything i knew in my life. at least that is what i thought then.
4:18 PM D: I hope your father was good to you, Chris
4:20 PM me: i didnt know your name. recently i got in touch with a friend, someone i had not seen or talked to since i was fifteen. we used to read the letters together. she knew your name. she said, "Do you remember R...... M....?" out of the blue. and I replied, "the one who wrote the letters?" just like that I knew...
4:21 PM i would never have known if i hadnt have talked to her.
D: omg Chris - I can't believe this