my dad was here for a long weekend visit.

i love him. of course i do – how could i not? but we have a hard time not hurting each other. i wish i knew why, so i could fix it. i wish we could talk without land mines. i wish our conversations were not fraught with the barbed unsaid, the sharp edges sidestepped, the little bruises we inflict in our fumbling attempts to communicate. it’s death by a thousand papercuts.

still: we keep trying, the pull of halves trying to make themselves whole. the father/daughter connection crashing headlong against the walls of our hearts. and maybe all family relationships are like that. trying and struggling for recognition, acceptance in spite of the pain – the kind of ache that only someone who knows you as part of themselves, can cause. maybe the love that comes after is the exceptional bit.

but there is love.

a few photos – more here.

guided by voices – hold on hope

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