The phone call

I was in Vancouver for the last little while.  I went to have dinner with my mom, and on the way back, I noticed that I had missed a call...with a 902 area code (the area code for Halifax).  There was a voicemail which confirmed my suspicion...it was my dad.  This was the first I had heard from my father in almost 2 years.  It was hard to tell on the message, but I'm pretty sure he had a couple beers down range when he called.  The message went something like this,

"Hey kid, It's Rick...your dad.  I'm calling to say hi and that I'd like to hear your voice.  I have some good news and some not so good news.  Please give me a call back at this number...it's...hold on a f#cking second, it's around here somewhere...well you probably see it on your phone...f#ck...here it is....902-xxx-xxxx.  So give me a call; love you kiddo" *click*

Now my mom, being the insidiously curious type, insists that I tell her what he said in the message.  So I do and then I start the mental process of steeling myself for calling my dad back.  As I previously mentioned in another post, one of my 101 goals was to tell my dad why I don't talk to him anymore.  I called him back.  He was happy to hear from me and very apologetic about the lack of communication over the last couple years.  He was very emotional and when he started to redirect some of the blame, I stayed strong and shut that down, making sure he understood that there was nobody to blame but himself.  Then I said that if he wants a relationship that he MUST phone at least once a month and he MUST be sober for those calls and if he can't commit to that, then I will no longer entertain a relationship with him.  He agreed...then he told me the bad news.  My uncle is on his deathbed with only a couple months to live.  That's horrible news since I really liked my uncle.  He was always good to me, as was his wife and my cousin.  So already in a state of shock and emotional upheaval from learning that, my dad tells me that he's been diagnosed with cancer in his left eye, and it's at the back of the eye...now I really feel like shit.  Luckily it's treatable, but he'll lose the vision in that eye, if not the whole eye altogether.  He starts a 5 day radiation treatment on Monday...my fingers are crossed that he makes it out ok.

After he tells me all that, then he goes into more promises about coming out to visit, etc. etc....rhetoric that he's been spewing for the last 30 years that just never sees fruition and that took me from emotionally distraught right back to pissed off again.  Cancer or no, I let him have it with both barrels.  I told him that I want to NEVER hear another empty promise from him again.  He can say he's coming out when he has a ticket in hand and NO SOONER!  We ended the conversation there with him promising to call on Tuesday after a consult with the Oncologist...and to my surprise, he actually did call.  Maybe my relationship with my dad isn't so bleak after all.  Only time will tell, but I think I may give him one...last...chance.

The next blog post will be funny, I swear!