I have left the weekend with one key hope, that my children do not share my stubborn gene. In all fairness I don’t hold a lot of hope out, between stubborn and lazy my own family have little contact. Over the weekend I tried again to raise my kid sister, it was (as always) impossible. For every hundred calls she may answer one, or at least text to say that she is busy. I work full time, I travel and I work away from home yet my kid sister who has never worked is invariably too busy to answer the phone, go figure.
I think as a family we just rebelled against enforced contact. My parents split when I was young and my mother pushed very hard to make my father maintain contact. Her heart was in the right place but the enforced visits were a strain on both sides. My father was one that wanted to be there for the golden age. In all his many children’s lives there would come a time when he could bask in his role, albeit briefly and mostly without justification. The problem with enforced visiting was that when I hit that time I wasn’t interested anymore. I had two sisters, the older one passed away a few years ago. In a style that was very much her own she called me out of the blue and we spent some time catching up over a few weeks. Then she committed suicide, perhaps I should have seen that coming, perhaps that’s why contact is shunned in my family.
So my kid sister will remain elusive until she has sufficient drama or concerns to fill a call. You know the types of calls, you mention some massive drama and the response is generally “oh no that’s terrible, anyway let me tell you about ….” The real kicker for communication is my own children, who I love dearly. They have reached ages where they have things to do in their own lives and I am not so important, all entirely natural of course. Unfortunately they live with a woman who hates me and they are too young to understand the sacrifices and efforts that I have to make to keep them, in the style to which they are accustomed.
They have reached the stage in life where an absent father is merely an alternative funding source. My remaining hope is that they rebel against history and rekindle our relationship, some history is horrible to watch repeating. Having just been through Father’s day in the UK I have seen so many examples of love and loss. It has been a poignant reminder that our time here is limited and memories can’t be created after the moment has passed.