Hi there, me again. Today I feel a little numb, numb of the heart. Maybe I feel this way on purpose…I don’t know. I googled police blogs, and blogs for their families today, just to get an idea of how it feels to them. I just can’t understand though. There was this one girl whose father is a police officer and she talked about how her father loved it and how he always did so much with her and her siblings. He took them shooting, taught them to drive… My father taught me to drive too… sort of. I had already taken a drivers ed. Class so I knew the basics but I wasn’t comfortable behind a wheel yet (I’m still not.) So one summer I was visiting we decided to sneak out of the house for some ice cream (My step mother doesn’t allow my father to eat ice cream.) When we got to the ice cream place we ordered two twist cones, my favorite. We decided to eat our ice cream there instead of in the car. I remember the heat was horrible. My dad and I didn’t say much, we never really did. It’s odd; looking back I’ve always been comfortable eating ice cream around my dad but anything else just makes me feel so fat. I don’t know why but it always did.
After we finished our ice cream my father tossed me the keys to his truck and said “Come on you’re driving.” I just looked at him like he was crazy, and he probably was because we both know if I had wrecked that truck, my step mother would have killed him, and maybe me too. I started to argue but in the end I realized that he was reaching out to me and that didn’t happen often, so I sucked it up and got in the driver’s side. When I went to pull out of the parking lot I had my left turn signal on to go back to the house but my father just said “Take a right” as he leaned over to adjust the radio. I was really confused at that point so I asked where we were going. He never told me, he just kept telling me where to turn as we approached each intersection. We drove for hours, occasionally stopping at a gas station for drinks. It seemed like we drove in circles, and looking back now, I’m pretty sure we did. My father decided to question me about politics and such. That is one of his favorite topics and he always challenged me to develop my own opinions and not to just mirror someone else like most teenagers like to do these days. We were in a deep discussion over why I can’t stand to listen to politicians go on and on about global warming when my father yelled at me to “TAKE THAT RIGHT!!!” We were too far up to turn but I was so scared I did it anyway. We were almost hit by another truck going the opposite way and I drove straight into someone’s yard and almost hit their propane tank.
I turned the car off and just sat there. I was so angry, angry at my father for yelling and scaring me, angry that he waited to tell me at the last minute to turn, and angry at myself for the tears building in my eyes. I don’t know why but crying in front of my father is one of the most humiliating things to me. I decided that I didn’t want to drive anymore and I began undoing my seat belt. My father just looked at me like he didn’t understand. “I don’t want to drive right now.” I told him while trying to sound perfectly ok. Anyone that really knows me would have understood that at that moment I was so scared and all I needed was a hug. I just needed to know that everything was fine. Instead, my father just said “Too bad. You need to back it up and get back on the road.” I was crushed and totally humiliated, but I did as I was told. I was in a bad mood the rest of the drive and my father could tell, but he acted totally oblivious as to why. He finally got tired of my cold and silent treatment and asked what the matter was. I glared at him then. Wasn’t it obvious what was wrong with me? I had just been in the first sort of accident of my life and I was not only scared shitless but also completely humiliated. Finally I decided it wasn’t worth explaining and I just said “I don’t feel like driving right now.” I could tell that he was angry at my response. Fine”, he said “Then let’s just go home.”
I understand what my father was trying to do by forcing me to keep going. He just wanted to teach me to not give up when something bad happens. What he didn’t realize was I’ve already learned that lesson, at home, without him. He was never there for those things. He tried to make memories like that while I was visiting but… It never worked out. Only more anger and more barriers between us were created. He never seemed to enjoy spending time with me. It usually seems forced.
One weekend I had Friday off school so we planned for me to go visit my father for the long weekend. Him and my mom were going to meet half way Thursday night after they each got off work. My father had the whole weekend off for a change, so I was really excited! I had all my stuff packed on Monday and Thursday night I waited by the window for mom to get home so we could leave. My phone rang at about 4'o-clock and it was my father. I answered it a little bit wearily, he didn't usually call me. He told me that a weekend, even a long one, wasn't worth the trip to come get me. We live about three hours away. How was its not worth it? He would only have to drive half of that!!! It crushed me. I was not worth a couple hours in the car to my father. It honestly felt like a slap in the face. I know that not every cop, not even most, are like him but... they get to see the batter side of him. I get nothing. I'm so tired of being hurt. Can I really let him back into my life when he's finally out of it just to risk being hurt again? This is what I'm struggling with today... I wonder if anyone else has a similar situation?
-D
