11 November 2008
I never thought it would happen to my parents. I grew up in the perfect family. We went to church every Sunday, took vacations together and did everything a normal family would do. So when I heard my mom crying one night, I got a sick feeling in my stomach. I knew that something was not right, but never would have guessed that it was the beginning of the end for my perfect family.
Long story short, my parents decided to try and work things out, to no avail. After months of marriage counseling, many weeks of my dad being gone for work and no marital progress, my mom was miserable. I distinctly remember the day that it finally came to the crossroads. My dad had taken my sisters out for the day and I stayed home with my mom. She told me how hopeless the situation was, but that she could not bring herself to ask my dad to leave. I knew by her desperate and tired expression that she needed me to be the one to do it.
 knew that my mom was too weak. I sensed that things were not getting better. The air of discontent in our home was thick, almost suffocating at times. My dad had totally withdrawn from us. When he was home, he was in his own world. My little sisters finally coaxed him to take them horseback riding for the day. I felt that this day unfolded in the manner that it did, for a reason. I saw how torn my mom was and knew that she could not bear another day of the excoriating emotional turmoil that she had suffered while trying to repair something that could not be fixed.
When my dad and sisters returned, I was making myself some soup. He came into the kitchen and made a snide remark about something insignificant, but it started my blood boiling. I could feel the anger and adrenaline well up in my body. I thought of all the nights my mom sat up sobbing, while he traveled the country, acting as a free man. I thought of his selfishness, lies and numerous tears I had cried over his absence. Then, I popped. No… I exploded.
I whipped around to face him and yelled, “You’re making our lives hell!” It was the first time I had ever cursed in front of my dad. The look on his face was of pure shock. The house fell silent. My heart shattered as I saw the hurt in his eyes. I knew that I would never be a daddy’s girl again. He turned and walked away for a minute. Then he looked at us all and asked, “Do you really want me to leave?” My little sisters shook with sorrowful tremors. I knew that they did not understand what was happening. I looked at my mom, who suddenly resembled a frightened child and knew that I had to swallow the pain and let him go. “Yes, Dad, we want you to leave.”
I will never forget that day. It weighs on my heart like a ton of bricks. I knew that he did not want to be restrained from living his truth. I knew that my mom felt obligated to work things out. I knew that I had to be “The One.” I was the oldest and it was my job. I freed my dad from his cage, released my mom from her prison and trapped myself in a state of guilt that I will never be able to escape.
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