August 29, 2010 § 2 Comments
Well, everything’s okay… sort of. My father paid off his debt, probably with gambling winnings, which allowed me to remove my name from his bank accounts. The process took more than six weeks and involved countless phone calls, several wayward faxes, and miles of pacing, but as of today I am no longer financially tethered to a man who doesn’t give a fuck. It is, to put it blandly, a relief.
I am less certain of the state of other ties, which were already broken and which recent events have done little to mend. Knowing that I was beside myself with worry, my father declined to inform me that the debt had been paid, ignoring an email I had sent him to ask. Then, after tracking him down, he blithely pronounced that everything had been taken care of, despite the fact that my name had not yet been removed from the accounts. When I implored him to write a letter to his bank authorizing the removal, which I had asked him to do weeks before, he lied and said that he didn’t have a printer, by which he actually meant that he had two printers but couldn’t be arsed to connect one of them to his computer. And of course, he hasn’t apologized for any of it.
Our last conversation quickly deteriorated into an argument, which began when I insisted that I needed him to write the letter. As his voice rose, I momentarily regretted saying anything, knowing that a similar argument had severed our relationship three years before. Having lost my father once, a part of me didn’t want to lose him again. And then I caught myself, understanding that this had in fact been the problem all along: that keeping the peace meant, on some level, that I had to cease to exist, and this was no longer a price I was willing to pay for this relationship or any other. It was a cathartic moment in a summer that’s been lousy with them, and which I hope will be the last for a while. It’s time for Vila to have some fun.