My Only Constant Is Change

     The other day I was taking a walk in the park, not far from the Friendship Tree that I mentioned in a previous piece, and I felt like my Dad was there with me, I sometimes feel the presence of loved ones who have passed, but more likely it would be one of my husbands, or my Grandmom or an Aunt.  Anyway, I felt he wanted to tell me why he had not been more in my life after he and my Mom separated when I was young. I'm not even sure how old I was when they split, but I know it was before I started school. He would sometimes come over to the house where we were living with my Grandmother and I remember him teaching me the alphabet and letter sounds and how to put letters together to make words. I was surprised when I got to first grade and realized not everybody knew that stuff.
     Anyway going back, three years before I was born I had a sister who was hit and killed crossing the street when she was 3 1/2 . I don't know if that's when the marriage began to be troubled, but I don't really have memories of us all being together. I know that I was spared a lot of chaos and insanity that my Mom and older sister and brother lived through. His second wife and my younger brother and sisters also had their share of it.
     As a probably five-year-old child, I just pieced stuff together with my little girl mind. I didn't know why Dad wasn't in the house, and at one point he took me with him for the day to visit his friend. She seemed nice enough, but I spent most of the day outside playing with her kids. It wasn't until that evening when the three of us went somewhere and were sitting at a table, there was music playing and they got up to dance together. That was when I realized she wasn't just a friend and I started crying. He took me home and I never went to spend the day with him again, unless we went to his Mom's house. We often visited Grandmom as a family especially over the Holidays and  I later would spend  weeks at her house over  the summers with my cousin Patty. At any rate, I don't remember Dad being present on a regular basis, but kind of hit or miss. He would sometimes come around late at night to visit Mom, but I was not generally included in those times.  I had a lot of hit or miss relationships over the years and a couple of good marriages that ended in widowhood. Long term was apparently not in the cards for me.
     So the other day as I was walking, I felt a loving energy and got the feeling he was telling me that he had backed away because he didn't want to hurt me. Compared to what the rest of the family lived through, I was spared a lot of pain and confusion, While they all had a lot of stuff to overcome, I just had a lot of feelings of not being included.
     For a long time I had felt abandoned, but now it feels more like I had been spared. I have a bit of him in me - I can be a bit unconventional, I share his love of words, and for a little while was drinking more than I needed. We sobered up about the same time and were able to have a closer relationship. I remember one time I drove 20 miles up to visit him at the house on Second Street and he wasn't home. It was raining pretty heavily and I thought about waiting, but headed home. When I got there, I found a container it the doorway with a piece of Grandmom's Easter pie  that I had asked if he had the recipe for. I later got a Valentine card with this thought:

    So just in time for Father's Day, he showed up again. I have been reading another blogger who shared that while people come and go, there has been one constant in life, on any Sunday, and it's in his blood. While I enjoy hearing his vibrancy on the topic,  I wondered why I haven't found my constant. I mean some people love to paint or bake or parent.  I think that my constant has been that people come and go and I am so grateful for all the wonderful relationships I've had,  and for the not so great experiences that I've learned from.

     Happy Father's Day!