Getting through the weekend...

Which is harder than you might think sometimes. There was something to be said for leaving for the airport on Sunday. It meant that you didn't get saddled with some of the things that I did this weekend. Overall, I am not complaining (or maybe I am),

I did finally talk with my Dad on Saturday. That is such a frustrating experience for me.

Part of it is guilt. I am in a better position physically, mentally and alas, financially than he is. There was a time when my Dad had a pile of money. But for a variety of reasons, he doesn't. I do help out. We sent money to him, Julie's sister and her mom/dad every month. I also pay for his cell bill and when emergencies like last year's driving experience See Sep 21 in my other (now dead) blog come up. But he doesn't seem happy and is seemingly looking for me to change his life. I have tried. I have set up various opportunities for him, but he wants me to do it for him and I just can't from that distance. I went out there in March to help them sort through their financial issues (he had just asked for a $30,000 vehicle)

I think most of my frustration is his “whoa is me” attitude. His “we’re doing the best we can” or “we just have to live with it (whatever it is at the moment)” drives me crazy. If my mom and dad brought me up that way, I might be able to understand it. They didn’t. I was brought up to believe that whatever I wanted, if I put the energy to it, the potential was there.

When I ask if he has spoke to my brother or sister, a typical response is that I called and left a message for them. They didn’t return the call, so they must be mad at me. When I pointed out to him that I have left messages for him and don’t think that just because he didn’t return the call thought he was upset with me. What’s the difference I asked? He came back with some lame excuse.

Am I being too rigid? I would like to think that I am pretty easygoing and it takes quite a bit to get me upset. But my dad can touch a nerve of frustration with me in just a few moments over the phone. I hang up and want to scream. I used to look forward to talking to him and sharing what was going on in each of our lives. Now, it seems like an obligation. And for that I truly feel guilty.

Suggestions? I could surely use them.