How is it a cat on the floor can look straight up, yet stare at you eye to eye?
Natalie describes a strange and illuminating experience, which my mind turned into an iconic tableaux of my own original family relationship.
My father towers, angry, red faced. My mother stands beside him, one hand vaguely holding him back, the other pulling me toward him, as she cries, pleading for me to go to him.
I have not spoken to either for four years. Not to my father for eight - more. They do not have my phone or address. When they die, my cousin E will let me know. E only has my email, because my mother kept trying to get my old address from her through her mother, and I hated putting her in the middle. She can't tell what she don't know.
I like to allow others the choice to say No. I had to work way too hard to claim the privilege for myself.
Feh. All this upset keeps throwing up old crap. Toss it. Hope it stays tossed.