CONFLICT RESOLUTION

Submitted into Contest #29 in response to: Write a story about someone dealing with family conflict.... view prompt

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General

My childhood was blessed to have grandparents and cousins as I grew up being an only child. Weeks ago before graduation preparations were underway for the high school graduation. Formal photographs in cap and gown were taken for the seniors, as well as casual photographs from Allendale estates once owned by millionaire Harvey Brooks. With some assistance from my mom invitations were sent out to friends and family. Unknown to me my dad and Uncle Thomas after a day of drinking, made a decision to attend the ceremony. My cousin Lynn left his home he protected his mother, my Aunt Barbara, from the heavy harsh hand of my uncle. Lynn waited at the entrance to the high school, to prevent them from entry.

Unaware of the drama outside of auditorium, in cap and gown I walked across the stage and received my high school diploma. My mom and aunt as well as my grandparents cheered me on. We celebrated with a dinner at the local Bonanza steakhouse. Feeling so grown up, my cousin Robyn and I stayed out late for the first time. We spent our time playing putt-putt golf, until 3:00 a.m. In reality, we were glad to go home to have a good night's sleep

"No man is an island," I would say quietly to myself or aloud to my dad. Although there were many life situations that were embarrassing I will share a couple of these situations. I was working at Greystone Manor, in a healthcare facility for the elderly that morning. The grave side service for my grandfather was scheduled at 11:00 a.m. I left work went to pick up my dad from his apartment. He had polished off a six pack of Michelob, and upon arrival at the cemetery he asked me to take him up to the funeral home rest room. I told him he didn't have to drink so much and it was being closer to time for the grave side service. I refused his request while I hurriedly found seating in the tent by other family members. He refused to speak to me and found another mode of transportation home. He walked up to the grave side with his first cousin, Susie she was known for drinking publicly not in amounts like my dad. As father and daughter we grieved separately.

Family conflict was established long before, I was born. My father and his two brothers fought over the 55 acres of land, the farm there on it. The youngest son, my Uncle Daniel was the power of attorney over the land, farm house, and two barns. as well as a large garage. My dad did not care if he never received any inheritance. My uncles would attend social event they were both expected to be there never speaking to each other and sitting in different rooms

Dad operated a dozer on a construction site, the machinery by the name of CAT. His paycheck was spent by that time the weekend was over. Mom always handled finances, paid the monthly bills. She was able to keep up his credit all the years they were married, nearly nineteen years. Dad was there physically, not emotionally.

My grandmother, provided the house we lived in, both she and my mother lived in the fear that I would become a hard drinker like my dad. Quite the opposite, I wanted nothing to do with it. At 18 years of age we, my mother and I went to the hospital in Bristol , TN. By this time my parents had divorced, there was a session in the group as family members gathered in a circle. My dad sat across from me in a straight back chair. He could not keep his head up and his eyes were heavylidded still under the influence of alcohol. I cried uncontrollably for several minutes, realizing I was the only one of us believing a change could take place.

My thoughts captured riding along with my dad in his Ford truck, he traded vehicles yearly for many years. He liked to trade knives and guns. He would take me to flea markets to see livestock, jewelry, leather crafts and almost anything you could imagine. Dad collected coins as well as the latest in country music for example: Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings. Many Saturday mornings were spent in this way, sharing a bottled coke and peanuts for a snack.

My dad would take me for walks on my Papaw's farm and other locations: he's objective hunting, mine observing nature in wildlife. For, Christmas for a lot of years, dad would take me across a wooden bridge over the creek to find the perfect Christmas tree. There were years dad would shoot mistletoe out of the tops of trees. Although, he especially liked to hunt squirrels, we often brought home, guinea fowl, pigeons, and once even a groundhog.

We shared a love for reading, his favorites Zane Grey and Louis Lamor. My favorite books to read Nancy Drew and Little House on the Prairie. I enjoyed spending time with my dad, doing chores with my grandmother, his mom. Feeding and giving water to the chickens, gathering eggs. Helping prepare meals and sitting down at the table as a family on Sunday afternoons.

Dad bought me a pony, we named her Penny. Every week on Friday's we ate a fish dinner at Jack's Restaurant. The restaurant sold brown sugar cubes which we got as a treat for Penny. The pony was kept on the farm and only trained or worked with once a week on Saturday or Sunday. Her copper coloring shone bright, her manes and tail flying in the breeze. We began to speculate that she was carrying a foal. As time went on we discovered she was only growing fat. I saddled and rode Penny one weekend and she threw me, dad took her the next day and sold her.

In later years, dad said he believed that I and his mother were the only people who truly ever loved him. In his family of origin he was once labeled as a black sheep the only one of a rebellious nature. This is not so in present day, he was on a Greyhound bus. Dad and Mom married in June of 1962, I was born November 30, 1962. The world has changed, the popular term of biological fads is baby daddy. I believe children need the bonding of both parents. I sent my dad a card which told him I loved him very much and forgave him in response to his statement that he had never been much of a father to me. He kept that card on his refrigerator the rest of his life. I have always hoped that helped him. He died nine months after my mother died. Even though she always wanted me to take sides I would not. I loved them both dearly and each of them were a part of me.





February 22, 2020 02:40

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