Just in case I haven't repeatedly told everyone who will listen, I need this vacation.
Hubs' grandfather passed away on Monday night. It was expected and honestly, a blessing. We will miss him. He was a cranky bastard, but had a soft spot for me. The past few months his health had steadily gone downhill. His service will be next weekend.
Rest in peace, Grandpa.
I also got a call from my sister on Monday morning that my father has colon cancer. I'm still trying to process this information. Please note that I said my sister called to tell me, not my dad called to tell me.
My father and I have been estranged (god, I hate that word) since...well, since I was born. He came in and out of my life randomly, when either my grandmother guilted him into traveling the 200 miles or when he felt like it. Typically I saw him two or three weekends a year. Not much.
As I grew into a teenager, I noticed he favored my sister- she was 4 when my parents split and he had a chance to bond with her more than me. They also had similar interests, whereas all I wanted to do was pout and tell the world how miserable I was.
In my 20's I saw him even less. I was busy doing things 20 year olds do and he was doing his thing.
After meeting Hubs I figured it was time to have him meet my dad. We trekked up to Boston for the afternoon, took in some of the tourist things up there and that was it.
I invited my dad down for a house warming party at my house over 4 years ago. He came, which was nice. My friends met him and everyone said what a great guy he was. I'm sure they thought I was nuts not to have him in my life more often.
Hubs and I started to plan our wedding shortly after that party. I wanted my brother to walk me down the aisle. Jay was going through a rough patch and I thought it would help if he had something to look forward to. Plus, to me, he was my closest male relative. My father at that point met Hubs twice- in 3 years.
So I emailed my dad and explained that I wanted Jay to walk me down the aisle. I told him why. My dad never emailed me back.
A few weeks went by, the wedding was getting closer. I sent out the invites- no word from my father.
I called him one night and blurted out, "Dad, are you coming to my wedding or not?"
So, I think I mumbled something like, "that's your decision to make" and hung up.
Somehow I wasn't surprised. I knew he was going to do this. I hate to say it, but I didn't even think of him on that day. He wasn't missed.
I haven't spoken to him since that day. It was May 2, 2003.
My mom called yesterday and asked me to call him.
I can't do it. I can't. I know if or when he dies I'm going to be so disappointed, but I can't do it.
Life has been coming at me in waves lately- good and bad. I really think talking to him is going to be a breaking point, throwing me over the edge.