Well, not 'hate,' exactly, as I could never hate Sam. But bone crushing irritation, disappointment, frustration, etc.
I love him, of course, I always will, but man is he an asshole. Since he left more than three years ago, in order to support his new life, I've tried to keep a reasonable 'distance.' I let him be the one to make contact. I try and make sure that on those rare occasions when we do chat, that (as much as I can), I remain upbeat. Like the stereotype of a Jewish mother, I do kvetch when the time between chats goes on too long, but I do try, really I do, to keep such kvetching down to a dull 'roar.'
As the, 'Daddy,' I am always there when he needs me. I remind him often of how much I care for him, how proud I am of him, and how glad I am that he is happy. I also try to keep any problems or unhappiness I am experiencing out of our conversations, as I don't want to whine. So, I feel like I am clearly doing my 'part' in trying to maintain the connection we shared and treat it with respect and show value to it.
Sam, not so much. Well, to be blunt, 'not so much' is being charitable. He tells me that he still cares about me, not long ago he even sent to me (out of the blue) a series of notes reminding me that he was thinking of me, he missed me, and that I would always be his, 'Daddy,' promising me that he wasn't drunk (he rarely drinks, as do I, but we've each been known to 'drunk text' each other to make maudlin comments to one another). Maybe it sounds pitiful, but just that little exchange, reaffirming our special connection, brought happiness to me for days.
Then, last week, boy was I brought up short. As I've said, to be respectful of his time, to not interfere with his schooling, his life, his relationship with Aardvark, I let him be the one to initiate contact. True, I sometimes out of the blue send a text sharing a link I want him to see, or naming a new band to which I think he should listen, but rarely (in fact I don't think ever) have I initiated an, 'I need to talk' exchange. Well, last week I did. I was nervous about an upcoming medical procedure. While not invasive, the procedure is very expensive, and completely elective. Still, I was feeling foolish. Foolish to spend so much money, foolish to be doing something that could be interpreted as vain, and just plain nervous. I think anytime one has a medical procedure, invasive or not, it is natural to be a little nervous.
So, the day before the procedure, feeling nervous, embarrassed, etc., I reached out to Sam via text. I didn't call, I didn't ask to SKYPE, nothing that might be time-consuming, I merely sent a handful of texts expressing my feelings, wanting to share them with someone whose opinion I value and who claims to love me. Boy, was that a mistake. Instead of reassurance, support, I got blown off. Utterly, totally, completely blown off. The excuse, it was the last week of classes and he was studying. Okay, he is a student, granted. But he is a doctoral student, a doctoral student is a social science. Working in academia myself, I know just how much work being such requires. So, as the old saying goes, 'you can't kid a kidder.' If he was a medical student or a law student, I'd get that his status might be endangered if he performed poorly. But he is a studying a social science. In the social sciences, one is rarely, if ever, in danger of flunking out. Doctoral students work only as hard as they desire to work. Their schedules are almost entirely their own.
So, being blown off in such a manner was both rude and totally unnecessary. I know millennials are completely self-absorbed. But for years Sam has argued that while he may be of that generation, but not 'of' that generation. I am proud of him. I am glad that he is doing work (well, not work...as I said he is a graduate student), that he finds fulfilling. Really, I am.
But, I am also angry, disappointed, frustrated, and sad that he is unwilling, incapable, or uninterested in doing even the bare minimum of maintenance necessary to maintain our connection. A battery that is used and never re-charged or replaced runs out and the thing it is powering slowly dies. I don't want this connection to die, but I can't be the only one making any effort to keep it alive.
My therapist reminds me that this is his way. That, without being reminded, he doesn't keep in close touch with his family. His Grandmother is ancient, for example. I know he loves her very much and I know he loves talking to her, but he lets huge chunks of time pass between the times he actually talks to her.
In the past, I've told him that I feel foolish being the only one who works to keep our connection in place. That, when he treats me like this, I feel like he is treating me like an unpleasant obligation, "I pretended to love the guy, but having broken his heart, now I feel bad, so I humor him by occasionally keeping in touch, so I don't feel too guilty about having done so." When I say these things, he (of course) denies them. He reaffirms my importance and value. But, in my most cynical moments I ask myself, 'well, what else would he do?' He tells me I am being silly, that he thinks about me all the time and that I remain of importance to him.
As much as it saddens me to admit it, as the old saying goes, "actions speak louder than words."
At least, that is what THIS DADDY thinks.
No comments:
Post a Comment