a conversation

"I just want you to be happy, Dad."
"No one can MAKE anyone else happy, honey."
"I know. What I mean is that if I am going to say something that I know will cause you to be unhappy, I'm not going to say it."
"But don't stuff your feelings or hold them in."
"I don't, but sometimes I don't think of how my words will affect someone else. Sometimes I'm mean, or in pain, then I say hurtful things that cause pain, and I just want you to be happy."
"Oh, honey..."
"I love you so much, Dad."
"I love you, too, honey."

I think of one of my sisters, and I think it will take time for healing. I haven't experienced more than being shunned by her, but other sisters have been personally mistreated and hurt, so their healing time may be longer. I just want Dad to be happy, and I think it makes him happy to be connected to ALL of his daughters, not just four. Love is more important than what happened in the past, or who did what to whom, or why (which nobody knows the answer to, anyway), and I think he is enlightened. He's kinder than I am, more forgiving and loving. I am generous and loving and nurturing like he is, but I am more like Mom when it comes to forgiveness and forgetness - I'm sort of like an elephant. It's my lesson this time around, but with Dad just staying, he is helping me, not by saying anything, just by being a shining example. Thanks, Dad - you're my hero (again, and still and always). I'm trying, really, I am. But it takes concentration, and being awake and conscious, and a willingness to come back to the changes again and again, when all you really want to do is bury your head in your pillow and go away for a while. But you can't - life keeps showing up, right there in your face, and you get to decide, in every moment, what you will do with it. Sometimes I'm proud of my actions, sometimes I'm not, but then I think next time I can do something different.