Parts of my father calling that were difficult:
1. He's convinced my mother ordered the wrong part for my birthday, not sure it's a tuning pedal like I asked for. It would be sweet if our history musically weren't what it is. I remember him playing guitar and singing evenings when I was little. Then, when my sister got sick and everything crumbled, he stopped playing. Instead he took to judging my playing. I began studying classical violin at 5, starting playing guitar and singing at open mics in middle school. He took it as an opportunity to tell me when I was and was not singing with my soul, how I could never connect to an audience like he had in college, and on and on and on. It all finally culminated when we both lived for a while with my sister in Texas a few years ago. I came home one night to a drunken ranting about how I the only time he'd heard my soul in my music was when I sang twinkle, twinkle with my nephews, and if I could use some of that on stage, then MAYBE I'd learn something about performing. Not like I'd been on stages since I was 5 studying, performing, practicing, understanding music in many genres. At that point I decided that I was quite simply done with that conversation with him. I've tried my best to walk away from or change the subject about my performances since.
2. His passing comment about his friend's dogs, which are poorly trained. That's frustrating, and I understand that. But the horrible part was about how his friends dogs know to obey him, because he's the one who "puts their noses in their butts." The brutal violence I've witnessed my father put our dogs through still haunts me. If a dog poops on the carpet, he rips them from wherever they are, carries them by the scruff of their neck, and smears their nose in it while screaming at them. I saw him throw my 70 lb Norweigan Elkhound (childhood dog) across the room, slamming her back into the crates because of our older dog's incontinence. Cats who don't listen are held in the air by the scruff of their neck and batted at, water splashed on, then gripped tightly and rubbed by his face to "imitate their mother's disapproval."
3. His lecture about relationships. His friend is back with his ex-wife, my father (fairly so, it's a terrible & volatile relationship). His reason for disapproving, though? Because she put him in debt, repeatedly. Nothing about his friend, or of hoping for his happiness and health. Just money.
4. The disregard for nearly anything I added to the conversation. I am to be brilliant, beautiful, manipulative, independent, self-reliant, and free-thinking. Except towards him. To him I am supposed to defer. I am supposed to lay down and take everything he says at face value, treat it like wisdom. I was to be his greatest, most successful long-term science experiments, carefully crafting and training me so that I would perpetuate his twisted world view.
As a happy note, my boyfriends family called just before. They want to take us out to dinner for my birthday, insisting that they already think of me as family. While I know I face future issues with any family I enter... their love seems significantly less conditional. Upon (and even before) meeting me, they made a point to include me. I met them at Christmas year before last, and they had a gift bag ready and a stocking with an orange and some candies. They've fixed my car, and tried to encourage me to get my audition material ready and to get back into the classical music scene, where I spent years dedicating so much study. :-) And they may be right.... it may be time to get back in the game.
