missing peace of the puddle

Stormy weekend nights make me think of my father - and not just as in "Gee I hope he doesn't catch me stepping out of some meat market...". I picture him slogging through the horrendous weather, dealing with disheartening specimens of the human race, drawing meager comfort from one cigarette after another. And often, for more than a split second, I wish our relationship were such that I could call and say hey.

The first time I noticed that I do this, couple of years ago now, I remember feeling confused, even disappointed with myself. Here's a man I've spent a lifetime keeping at leg's length, a man I thought I'd succeeded in treating as I would any stranger - with civilised indifference.

Once upon a time:

• I self-righteously skimped over my contempt for him (for to elaborate would be tantamount to an admission of caring)
• every well-meaning observation that I was a splitting image of him made my skin crawl
• my Happy Place was Wherever He Wasn't (sadly still is most of the time)

Nowadays I continue to:

• wonder if mum would've had more..., just more, had she not married him; and whether he would have
• be as amused as upset that 95 times out of 100 he communicates with me through mum (including when we're in the same room), and the other 5 he simply shouts
• get irritated when he brags to people about me, because I feel like he's taking credit for things he had nothing to do with
• attribute my deep-rooted far-reaching cynicism and apathy to Whatever He Did Or Didn't to a greater extent than I would readily admit

In spite of it all, I felt my heart wobble a bit the other day when I heard that he might have liver problems.

N scolded me tonight for not knowing that Father's Day was coming up. The most important thing - and the hardest - is not injecting her with my venom.

and the hardest part * was letting go * not taking part * was the hardest part
and the strangest thing * was waiting for that bell to ring * it was the strangest start
and the hardest part * was letting go * not taking part * you really broke my heart
oh and I tried to sing * but I couldn't think * and it was the hardest part

Coldplay, The Hardest Part

[rest of the lyrics, and indeed the point of the song, are strictly inapplicable]