The Phone Call... (Aug. 1)

The visit had been planned for months. Or, my mom had been trying to plan it for months. We kept pushing her off for two reasons. First, because we sincerely didn't know our future plans. And secondly, if we made a plan and she bought tickets, then we would be obligated to fit our plans around her. And so we kept pushing it off.

Finally, it was a week before they were planning to come, and the plan we had anticipated came into place. We were leaving missions, and would relocate dramatically. Selling our house and moving across the country. A season was coming to an end.

I called my younger brother to break the news to him. He was disappointed, but I assured him we would get together before I left. Less than half an hour later, the phone rang. It was my dad.

"Oh, hello. I was literally just going to call you."

"So, I heard we are not going to see you this summer?"

"Oh, really? I only just made that decision an hour ago. I was just picking up the phone to tell you."

"Hmph."

"Well, I guess we'll be seeing your older brother this summer too." 

"That's great."

"Did you hear that he let his daughter become a lesbian?"

"Yes, I heard."

"But you didn't talk to him about it?"

"No, we talked about it." (I was cool, and firm. I felt like I had boundaries in place, emotionally)

"Did you tell him how evil it was? Did you really let him know?" (He was very animated)

"No. I didn't do that. I didn't see that as my place."

"Oh. ... well, we're going to go see him this summer. I'm going to really talk to him. It won't be a fun visit."

(With disapproval in my voice) "Oh, really?"  He already left the faith years ago I was thinking, do you really think this is the best strategy?

"Yes. There's some things that only a father can tell their son."

I made a noncommittal, but disapproving noise.

"So, I guess you're leaving missions now? You're not going to be a missionary anymore."

"Yes, that's right."

"So what? You're going to drive the garbage truck again?"

"I might. It's a good job. I really don't care about the title 'missionary.' We'll just see what is next."

Harmph. 

In awkwardness, we ended the call. 

It was quietly momentous. It was the first time that my father had been angry at me and I had not cowered, or let him have his way. I didn't say much, but I let it be known that I did not agree or approve or his actions. That was pretty significant for me.

I then called my brother. He informed me that he had already been "raked over the coals" by our father for this issue, including being told that he was a failure as a father.

"Objectively..as an outsider...you seem to be doing a really great job," I said. And, "That's a really shitty thing for a dad to say to his son. I'm really sorry you had to hear that."

Those phone calls were the beginning of the end for my relationship with my father. 

I was not willing to put up with him around my family. I could not put it into words. My parents made me very uneasy. My wife told me after their last visit, "I have never seen you like that." I was anxious, always trying to keep an eye. Trying to keep them apart, and protect my children. But I couldn't be everywhere. I didn't even know what I was trying to stop: but I just felt dread at the thought of them being with my kids. 

And so I said "no" to a visit, using our impending move as an excuse. 

It may not have needed to be a big deal: but the anger I saw when I said "no," and what he threatened to do to my brother (an adult, with teenage children, a strong man making competent decisions in life) showed me a very troubling side of my parents. 

I could not put it into words yet, but I knew then that things needed to change. The journey had begun...I was beginning to do some digging, and researching into the emotional dysfunction of my family...