Fights with Dad

I may have been Daddy’s little girl, but as I became a pre-teen, I tended to side with my mom when our family had domestic upheavals.

My parents didn’t have a storybook relationship, but it did endure over the years. I think most couples hit some roadblocks along the way, and for me, that came during my pre-teen and teenage years. It also was the time that my mom was going through menopause. You can just imagine what a hormone-enraged household that was!

A lot of the arguments would take place while we were driving home from some local errand. Mom would threaten to get a job and leave Dad, and Dad would scoff at the idea of Mom being able to find employment. Frankly, he was probably right, but I did my good daughter duty and sided with Mom.

I remember one particular incident clearly. We were coming home from grocery shopping. Whatever Dad said (which I don’t remember what it was now) really enraged me. I picked up a stool from the breakfast bar and raised it at Dad. I didn’t strike him, as he retreated, no doubt to go smoke a cigarette and cool off for awhile.

The whole incident blew over and was never mentioned again.

Looking back on the whole thing, I think there were legitimate frustrations on all sides. Perhaps attacking one another verbally and otherwise was not appropriate, but the important thing was that we worked through it. And at the end of Dad’s life, Mom and I stood proudly by his side, trying to make his exit from this life as dignified and painless as possible.

Love endures.

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