PART 10 – My Father Called Me Unreasonable, but His Next Words Made Me Understand Why Nothing Had Changed

The days between Christmas and New Year were quiet.

Eli spent time drawing.

I finished some work from home.

We watched a movie one evening and ate popcorn from a large bowl.

For a little while, I stopped checking my phone.

Then Dad called.

I answered because I thought perhaps he wanted to ask about Eli.

He didn't.

He started by saying the family was tired of the disagreement.

I leaned against the kitchen counter.

"What disagreement?"

He said I knew exactly what he meant.

I told him I knew what had happened at Thanksgiving.

He sighed.

"Danielle made a bad comment. You've made your point."

I stared at the refrigerator.

The drawing was still there.

"She didn't make one bad comment, Dad."

He said I was bringing up old things.

I reminded him that the first insult had happened when Eli was three.

He said children didn't remember everything.

I felt something tighten in my chest.

"Eli remembers enough."

Dad went quiet.

Then he said something I had heard in different forms for years.

He said Danielle had always been outspoken.

I asked him whether that meant she could say whatever she wanted.

He answered that I knew how to handle her.

I sat down.

That was the problem.

Everybody expected me to handle her.

Nobody expected her to control herself.

I told Dad I wasn't going to attend another gathering until the situation changed.

He said I was dividing the family.

I asked him who had divided it when Danielle insulted her nephew in front of everybody.

He didn't answer.

Then he said he couldn't believe I was choosing to make things difficult over a few words.

I ended the call.

I sat there for several minutes.

I wasn't crying.

I was simply tired.

Later that afternoon, Mom sent a message.

She said Dad was upset.

I replied that I was too.

She asked whether I could be the bigger person.

I read those words several times.

The bigger person.

I had heard them throughout my childhood.

Usually when Danielle had done something and I was expected to accept it.

I didn't reply.

That evening, Eli asked whether Grandpa was coming to visit.

I told him I didn't know.

He looked disappointed.

I asked whether he wanted to call him.

He thought about it.

Then he shook his head.

"Maybe later."

I respected that.

I wasn't going to force him to maintain relationships simply because adults expected him to.

A week later, Dad sent a message.

He said he missed his grandson.

I read it twice.

Then I replied that Eli missed him too.

I suggested that Dad visit us sometime.

There was no response for several hours.

Finally, he wrote that he didn't want to get involved in the disagreement between Danielle and me.

I looked at the message.

I almost typed several things.

I wanted to explain that he was already involved.

He had been involved every time he told me to be quiet.

Every time he allowed Danielle to insult Eli.

Every time he treated my objection as the bigger problem.

But I deleted the words.

I wrote only that he was welcome to see Eli when he was ready.

Then I put my phone away.

I was beginning to understand that I couldn't make people recognize what they refused to see.

Click here to continue reading: PART 11: The Family Gatherings Continued Without Us, and I Discovered How Much of My Life Had Been Built Around Avoiding One Person