More old pictures...

Up in the orchard, a year ago

This should be among the last of the old photos... I should be getting my camera back soon (thanks, Mom!). It was repaired free of charge, as it had something wrong with it that was under warranty. Anyhow...

It's been a rough couple of days. I accidentally told my father something that happened to me a long time ago, something I swore I would never tell him. While I still regret saying what I said, for the pain it caused him and is probably still causing him, maybe it's a good thing that he knows. I think it probably is. It was a stupid way to tell him, though. We were talking, and then having a bit of a disagreement about a political/religious topic (see how stupid? I generally never, ever broach these topics with my dad)... and the past just popped right out of my mouth. I wished instantly that I could suck the words back into my throat, but life doesn't work that way. Pity. Anyhow, what I said hit him very hard. He was hurt, he made threats that he wouldn't talk to me again until I told him certain other things, and then handed the phone to my mom - and refused to talk to me again. Anyone who knows me knows that being deprived of my father is pretty much torture for me. It's such a tough relationship in so many ways. I love him to distraction and I always have. I love my mother and my brother equally as much, but the love I have for my father is crazy and unreasonable at times, which can lead to conflict - and has. Maybe we're too much alike. That was Saturday night, and I don't think I slept much at all. Sunday morning, he called. He was sorry for his reaction, and he told me he loves me and just wants to be there for me. I can't even tell you how my heart sang with those words. I would have been paralyzed if he hadn't called - because I wasn't going to call him. He has changed a lot in the past ten or twelve years, slowly but surely. He still reverts to form more often than I would like, but still... even five years ago, or maybe seven - he wouldn't have called me. Not until I called him first. He did that to me once, years ago - I held out for six months before I finally broke down and called him. And that was over something incredibly stupid! What I told him on Saturday night was very serious. He really has changed. And I love him for it.

I don't mean to exclude my mom in all of this talk - she is my beloved, in so many ways. I wish life had made it so I could spend every day with her - or at least every other. She is easy to love, as is my brother. I think my dad and I are hard to love, in some ways.

Gotta go now. I had an unexpected additional harvest dumped in my lap this morning, and I have a midterm tonight (for which I am ill prepared... ah, well.... sigh....), so lots of work to do.

Before I sign off, I want to thank both Shannon and my brother Brian for taking my teary, frantic phone calls after my conversation with dad Saturday night. Thank you both. Thank you for loving me despite my many, many flaws.

Ta for now.