In Not So Many Words

Recently we received some great news that we were expecting another little one in the family. Being the opportunist that I am, I took this as a chance to once again try to convince my father that there would be no babies from his youngest anytime in the near future - if ever. I had my argument planned out before the phone call. Please read on to see how the conversation went (and note this is the abbreviated version so please don't get offended):

Me: "So, you got the text?"
Dad: "Yep, another little one."
Me: "It's great for them..." (I think I may have stressed THEM as a precursor)
Dad: "Yep, they wanted another one."
Me: "I'm happy for them - they can keep having babies. Not me."
Dad: "Good. I've been trying to tell all of you that you shouldn't even have kids. They're too expensive."

Umm...huh? I think I actually got silent at that point in the conversation. Up until recently, my father was trying to marry me off (I stopped mentioning names of guys I went out with) and seemed to be expecting that I would be expecting. My silence gave him the chance to go off on a rant about how much money it cost to raise a child until he/she was 18. Then he said the best thing ever:

Dad: "Save your money for a new car. With what you'll be getting paid for the rest of your life you're gonna need all the cash you can get."

So call me crazy - but I'm fairly certain that I just heard my father tell me that he accepted who I was and was proud of the person I was becoming. There are no words to adequately describe the feeling that washed over me in that exact moment. Who knew the one thing I'd been searching for within myself could be validated and uncovered by hearing someone else make that acknowledgement? The one person (other than my mother) who was so completely invested in me as a person had just given me the most precious gift. A moment I'll treasure, even if it came in a roundabout way.

My hope is that each of you today receive that gift of acceptance and acknowledgement from those you love - and that you continue to spread that gift. All it takes is one person to give us the faith we need to begin to believe in ourselves. Even if it's in not so many words...

Do we have to talk about it?

Okay, here's today's blog disclaimer:  Yes, I am a therapist.  I spend the majority of my professional days helping people discuss difficult topics.  However, when it comes to my personal life I very rarely go there except with a handful of people.  Hence the title of this post.  And yes, I fully comprehend the irony of a therapist that doesn't want to talk about it.  So now that you've read the disclaimer, we'll continue with the story.

A week or so back I was on the phone with my dad as I was getting ready to head out the door for dinner with a friend.  When he found out where I was headed and with whom, my father broached a subject I was illogically hoping to avoid.  No, not marriage and not babies.  I think I would have preferred that conversation. In my head I knew it had to happen eventually, but I was so happy living in blissful ignorance that I had managed to convince myself that perhaps my heart would never have to hear it.  So what was it that ever-so-slightly freaked me out?

My dad wants to start dating.

Next month we'll hit the 3 year anniversary of losing my mother.  Since that moment, my dad has been attempting to redefine his life without her.  He started going out to different restaurants, but sits at the bar and converses with the bartenders and the "regulars."  On that phone call a few weeks back he said something that ripped open my heart - that he hasn't sat at a table in a restaurant with a woman for a very long time.  Even when I was there we sat at the bar - although that's not even close to what he was saying.

I'll admit it - my heart did a flip flop.  I'm knocking on the door of 33 and all I've ever known was my mom and my dad.  Together.  No one else.  Now there may be a chance of someone else?  Uh oh, I think I may have just been chucked into adulthood.  Luckily for me someone out there created a mute button and I just happened to have a friend standing steps away.  I muted the phone and told him what had just happened.  Being the only voice of reason in that moment he said the one thing I needed to hear - "Isn't that a good thing?  All you've wanted for the past 3 years was for him to be happy.  This is what he needs to be happy. This isn't about you."

That was the ultimate truth.  Despite my feelings about losing my mom and the potential for some other person to come into our lives, all I've be wishing for, all I've been hoping for is for my dad to be happy.  The past 3 years have been rough....and if this is what he needs....it may not be easy for me, but it's not really about me is it?

So what did I say to him, to the man who has been trying to recreate his life in the last 3 years?  I said the same thing I would say to anyone starting a new chapter of their lives - "Give it a whirl, what's the worst that could happen?"

That's the lesson here - moving on to a new chapter may be difficult.  There will definitely be people out there with opinions on what you should or shouldn't do.  But the ultimate truth is that it isn't about them - so go ahead and give it a whirl.  You'll never know what's waiting for you if you don't.