Dear River

     Wow. That was a low blow. I see you have sunk to new depths. That conversation was a knife in my heart.

     We had been having a good morning, despite having to get up at 5am to get us all on the road for Dad's appointment at the urologist . When I said to Dad we were going to drop the girls off at Mom's before your appointment I did not expect you to answer as you did.

     You asked if my Mom lived down here. Not too bad, you confuse a lot of facts for Dad and he is still transitioning from the move. But then you asked the question. The question that signals what I have been dreading since you did the same shit to my Grandpa 20 years ago.

     "Have I ever met your Mom?"

     Oh, you bitch. He forgot me. You made him forget I was his daughter. Just for a moment or two, but that was enough. After a stunned few moments, I managed to reply. I joked that he is my Dad, so I hope so, but damn.

     He recovered quick, but that door is opened now. You kicked it open with your dainty, boot clad foot. I was going to post today about how nice it is to talk to him about his family back in Kansas. I love hearing about his aunts and uncles, and especially when he tells me stories about my Grandma Hazel, who died before I was born.

     Instead, I am dealing with the beginning of really losing him, like we did his father at the end.

Dear River,

     I know you mean well. I know that you think you are exercising your Papaw's right to give me a little 'now you know what it's like' jab about my kids giving me the same shit I gave you and Mom when I was that age. Blah, blah blah. This is to be expected and Mom does it too. 

     The issue here is that...

a) just because I __________ and didn't break my neck/turned out fine is not a reason to let my girls do it. 

b) it's not ok, don't tell them it's ok. I just told them not to do it and I had a damn good reason.

and most importantly

c) You have done it 7 times in the last 90 minutes or so. Seriously, I counted.

     The hardest thing for me, in any situation where you are concerned, is to keep in mind that you have no idea that you are repeating yourself. I have gotten much better at this. I really have, don't laugh. I have a really hard time swallowing the criticism, especially given my own Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Depression. I know you don't consider, or even remember, that fact before you speak.  

     Dad makes up for it later, almost every time. He says stuff like "You need to help your Mom, she has a lot to do taking care of you girls and me." The damage is usually done at that point. I am tired from the demands of the day, and I have let the shit you say get to me. I'm going to go watch horror movies on Netflix now and rest up for what you have in store for me next.