Small Talk

I talked with my father today, something I seldom do.

You have to understand. My father and I have never been very close. We do not see eye-to-eye on politics, education, art, sports... well... pretty much on anything. Plus, he and my mother split up, and he moved out of our house when I was about 11 years old. In addition, he has always lived in Tennessee, and I lived in Boston for years before moving to California. Add to all of this the fact that I do not like to talk on the telephone. I don't know why. I will write a long e-mail or a letter or send a postcard in an instant. I even talk on the telephone for great lengths of time when people call me. But I have a hard time getting myself to pick up the telephone and call someone else. I just won't do it. My father, on the other hand, seems to always be "thinking about calling" me, but I can count on one hand the number of times he has called me in my life. He's not much of a talker anyway. So while I love him very much, we don't talk much.

Anyway, I called him today because my sister-in-law has been in the hospital for several weeks due to complications with her pregnancy. Darling Wife wants to send something to the hospital, but I didn't know which hospital my sister-in-law is in. I know from my sister that my brother stays in the hospital almost all the time. I didn't know how to reach him, so I rang my father. After my father told me the name of the hospital and my sister-in-law's room number, he says that I need to call my brother whose feelings are hurt because I haven't called him already. Then dad says, "And I understand that," implying that he feels I don't call him enough either, something he is always throwing in my face.

Now, I am pissed. I want you to know that my sister-in-law has been in the hospital for a month, and my brother has not once called me to let me know where she is or how she is doing. I wouldn't even know she was in the hospital if it weren't for my sister telling me. And my father hasn't called me in over a year, unless I called him first. How dare they! This is not all my fault. How dare they get their feelings hurt just because I didn't do something that neither of them ever does either. The hypocritical bastards!

I suppose, as usual, I will have to bite my tongue, cover my anger, and ring my brother to apologize. But I refuse to actually be sorry about it. I don't believe I have done anything wrong.