I knew better.
Dad had an announcement.
We all sat around the kitchen table. Dad wore his all too familiar scowl of bitterness as he declared, “I can’t stand to live another minute with your mother because of her sick, conditional love she has for me.”
Mom was shocked and hurt.
Tears started streaming from many of our eyes.
Dad’s expression was one of disgust as he continued, “All of you have followed your Mom’s example and have been taught NOT to love me. Because you don’t care about me, I’m not going to care about YOU. No more grocery shopping. No more laundry. You will all have to fend for yourself. For once in my life, I’m going to live for myself and do exactly what I want to do.”
It didn’t matter that Dad was currently unemployed while Mom was working full-time. It didn’t matter that Dad wasn’t even trying to get a job, he didn’t care. He did care about lashing out at those he perceived had caused all of his misery.
Dad adamantly pounded his fist, “I’m NOT going to be kicked out of MY house this time like I was four months ago. I’m moving downstairs. You boys can share the room upstairs.”
His words exploded right through my heart. As he talked more about the logistics of our new “family dynamics,” all I could think of was how he said none of us loved him. That cut me deeply. After everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, I STILL loved him. He sounded so selfish, so defiant. He was supposed to be the head of our house, our leader, our example. How could he believe this cynical dogma that went against everything our church taught us about families?
It made me mad that he blamed Mom for all of this. The whole situation felt like a ridiculous dream. This couldn’t be happening. These new family logistics wouldn’t bring Dad happiness. It wouldn’t make him feel “free.” His selfish freedom wouldn’t be rewarding. His master plan would only bring him more misery.
After Dad’s speech, we were all excused to go our separate ways to college, work, or school. I don’t think I heard a word any of my professors said that day, and I doubt my siblings were able to focus either. Mom everyone at work that she was just feeling under the weather. Then that weekend she escaped to visit her sister, leaving me in charge again.
A few weeks passed and we all settled into the new, awkward routines. Walking on eggshells was a must. Dad was there, but not there at the same time. Mom wasn’t about to give up on her sacred, eternal marriage vows. She had her own plans. She sought council from our Bishop. She organized her own family meeting.
First Mom gathered just us kids together. She told us stories of how incredible our father used to be. I knew he still had that potential. I knew he could be great again if he could humble himself and repent and start changing. I hoped it wasn’t too late.
Mom told us, “I’ve been doing some research, and believe that much of this isn’t directly Dad’s fault . . .”
That definitely startled me. How could this NOT be his fault?
“Your Dad is most likely in a severe depression. He physically can’t help his outbursts because he needs medical help. His body chemistry is out of balance and it needs to be corrected through medicine.”
I still wasn’t sure I believed her. But then she read the symptoms of depression from a brochure she held. It sounded a lot like Dad.
Mom continued, “This in no way excuses your Dad’s actions, it just puts it in a different light. Dad needs help just as much as we do.”
Then Dad was invited to join our family meeting. Mom urged us all to help each other, not blame each other, and to just love each other. We ended with a family prayer.
We all clung desperately to the hope that this family intervention would be a new beginning. We could start repairing the vast damage and become a real family again.
Only minutes later, Mom approached Dad about seeing a doctor for his depression. Dad was furiously defensive. Was it his pride? Denial? Was he offended that she even suggest he wasn’t in control of himself, that depression had the better of him?
Dad boomed, “YOU’RE ALL STILL AGAINST ME!”
He apparently thought our family meeting was about how everyone else needed to change to suit him. No changes were needed in his life. I was absolutely crushed. My last shred of hope for our family evaporated.