"you're doing it wrong, Dad"

Every twenty- or thirty-something knows "Mr. Mom." Michael keaton stays home with the kids while his wife goes off to work. It's every feminist's (well, maybe not) dream. In our family, it is the provider of great one-liners, as most movies tend to be.

In this case, the line is simple, but applicable to so many things : 'You're doing it wrong, Dad.'

In context: dad is taking kids to school, cooking dinner, doing laundry, etc. All to which his kids reply "You're doing it wrong, dad." In real-life, can be applied to ANY situation where one person is attempting to do that which another person traditionally does.

Today, I was making copies, attempting to learn how to use our copier-which-is-more-complicated-than-a-computer. After several mistakes which wound up wasting a small tree's worth of paper, I muttered 'You're doing it wrong, dad."

And then, quick as could be, I thought - I can't say that anymore. I don't have a dad.

And then i realized - yes, i still have a dad. He didn't die - they just got divorced. Technically, he is still my father. Emotionally, though, those bonds are not the strongest at the moment.

And why, i have to wonder, is it almost easier to think of my dad as dead instead of just - - as he is currently - - estranged? My sister & I have agreed on this, and honestly, i find it odd.

Maybe it's the finality of death - you can bemoan the way things end without really having to do do anything about them. You CAN'T change things, but you can sound like a bigger person for WISHING you could, even if you don't really want to.

But with this - this... thing. No one's dying. At least, not that we know of. So there's a strange P-A-U-S-E of dealing with things. And meanwhile, the grief is as real as a death. The sadness and the anger are the same. The feeling of betrayal and bargaining with God are still present.

"If it's all just a dream, I'll..."
"If he'll just apologize enough, then things will be fine..."
"I can forgive... really."
"I believe in grace, so now's the time to put my money where my mouth is, right?"

And yet, the pit in my stomach doesn't go away, in fact, it gets worse when I think about trying to forgive. When i try to think about talking to him. When I try to show grace, as I have so often been SHOWN grace.

So, today, I can't forgive. I can't forget. I can't be graceful. I can't hope for a future yet. I can't think fondly on times past. I can't say we'll be stronger. I can't say it's his loss - completely.

'cause whether or not we like to admit it, we all lost. We all lost something different, too. My sisters and I, my mom, my nieces and my nephew, my fiance and my brothers-in-law. Each of us hurting, over one event, in our own different way.

Strangest thing, grief.