Honesty

When my father and I were drunk, the subject of my mother came up, as it often does when he and I are alone. I have a lot of issues with my mother, because of (mostly) how alike we are and how much I want to be different from her. My dad said (for the first time) that when he met my mother he was really down on women (having gone through a divorce and the difficult marriage that led up to it). He said that he looked at her and thought, 'this woman is really going to mess up her life unless someone helps.' He found out that the way to help was to love her, though he said he realized both things simultaneously. In falling in love with her, he saw her learn to help herself. My mother is a fighter. She lives her life running uphill and doesn't want it any other way, but she was going to kill herself without any back-up in her battles.

I have always marveled at my parents relationship. They seem about as opposite as two people can be. She's a massage therapist with a masters in Psychology and he is a retired Air Force officer who worked at a very high level with environmental clean-up (my high-school boyfriend was born in the town where the A-bomb was assembled). They have very different views on so many things, but they love each other.

I told him that the example I have seen my whole life between them is the 'mystery of love' and that I want nothing less for myself. I think that's part of the reason I hold on to hope over T, because that was what he and I had. The kind of love that doesn't need an explanation--because it defies all explanation. I feel so lucky to have told my father that.