A Father's Chosen Behavior?

OMG how long am I supposed to sit there on the phone and listen to him go on and on and on and on and onnnnnnnn...........................

About all the friends and all the places and all the things he's seen and done. And all the things he doesn't remember that I have been in his presence for.

What next is going to come out of his mouth that is all about him, telling me all about things and people I've met, been with, talked to, taken part in fancy affairs, bought tickets and cloths for the event, and pictures taken, airplane rides of 7 hours or more. Rides in cars down country and city roads. In this country and that one, in this state or even that other one.
Is he going to tell me about the time he ran out of gas, and he sat by the side of the road and a cow came by and offered him a ride. And I was there all along?

It's not an old age thing, it's how he treats his beloved Pieces thing. He made some choice, some god dam choice and no matter what I've done, I am not seen nor heard.

My invisibility is EVERY FUCKING WHERE!
Being seen and not heard is EVERY FUCKING WHERE!

Even within little cute me.
Only now am I finding my words, and my feelings.
Oh god does THIS ever hurt!!!!

I screamed at him. I screamed at my Father!!
I screamed at him as he tried, one more time, to start to tell me about an event that just took place, where he had no idea I'D BEEN RIGHT THERE WITH HIM.

The entire time on the phone this time, I was separate. I was listening. But I was NOT OWNING.
I was listening to the sound of his voice. Monochrome. A few ups and downs, some ups from his own self provoked giggles, but basically one tone.
One story moved to the next one. With almost no hesitation in between each one.
No real asking me of questions or comments to be made that he would have listened to. No, he was talking to himself really. I was just the bouncing board. I could have sailed the seven seas while he went on and on and on, he'd never have known. Heck I could have given birth!

It's a waist land of know how and knowledge and Who's done this and who did that. And how important all this is, and nothing really matters. It's all just punk.

It's the telling of the story. It's sharing of the event. The NewsLetter! It matters not.
It's just the same old shit. No page getting turned really. I'm just the sounding board. I let him sound, I was Watcher this time. Listener and Feeler and KNOWING.
I Knew this was about him, all about him being uncomfortable talking to me. He always has been.
Hard not to take that personally.

See this one I was born into. This one is the God. This is not the chosen lover, or the childhood friend. This is the blood one, the man that taught me how to feel about me.

Invisible. Not there, NOT Good Enough. Seen but not really heard. In da Box.

As I screamed at my Father, I felt air passing out of my Body. OLD air. Old square air. It was splashing out of my mouth, I could feel it as it swoooshed across the sides of my inner cheeks! I felt air all around my teeth. Old air. Old and very tired air. I felt my Child within Crying. My Teenager Screaming and my depressed Adult numbing and hurting, and swoooooshhhhhhh..........all of it put together, everything from every where, just hurting and so so so tired!!!
Long overdue feelings, hurts and pains. Ya just keep forgetting who I am!!!!

The pattern is every fucking where!!!!

It has to stop and I am the only one that can make it die in it's fucking path!!

It's been designed to be left up to me. I have always seen that, but have been very mad at it as it's own entity all these many, too many years! No matter what, I must tread extremely carefully! With me first, all my feelings owned, the ones known and the ones still unknown and not owned as of yet. All steps respected. Nothing perfect, and not designed to be so. Just stay present. My words are here.


Subject: All my love

Dearest Pieces,
What can I say, except two things. First, I forget crucial things all the time, about everything and everyone, not just you. And I forget rather more as I get old(er). You know that and it you don't just ask your Mom. Second, you are on my mind constantly, a thousand time a day, every day of my life. Much more than BloodSister, in fact, although I think about her plenty, too. In very deep ways, you are the closest to my heart. I think you know that, too. If not, just ask your Mom. You are the last person in the world I would want to hurt. You should not be angry or feel hurt. Rather, you should feel sorry for me. So much of my life disappears like that, down the memory drain
I am sorry, and God knows, I know it is difficult for us to talk. But I do try, and I will continue to try until I die.

Dad


Can ya See? Can ya See, how It's been designed to be left up to me???
I have always seen that, but have been very mad at it as it's own entity all these many, too many years! Why me? Why I am supposed to fix all of thee? When in the same breath as this, I am not seen nor heard nor good enough.
Why do you play, one against the other???????? One cared for more, one thought of less. Why did you make such horrible choices!! Why choose at all????

Even so, even within this letters games. I see him trying, and that is all that really counts. Own no other part of it. And the game is dead and done.


No matter what, I must tread extremely carefully! With me first, all my feelings owned, the ones known and the ones still unknown and not owned as of yet. All steps respected. Nothing perfect, and not designed to be so. Dance in presence power - The "Monsters" are loosing their grip, and finding their feelings and using the new found words. Just stay present. My words are in there.
Stay with me Pieces, stay in your NOW.


Pieces of Parts