Thursday, April 12, 2012

Proof

What does Proof mean, if you can't change the facts or the circumstances or the end result?

Sometimes it means you can sleep at night.

Regardless, I found out or confirmed my suspicions today that my dad was not the person sending me emails from his account, nor has he been that person for awhile.

The Happy Father's Day, Happy Birthday, etc, none of those made it to him. The photos of the Philippines did not make it. All of the emails that I posted earlier were not written by him at all.

He knows that his wife checks and reads his email without him and he does not stop it and does not bother to stop it. He says he prays for reconciliation. He knows he missed family weddings. He is still waiting for an apology, he says.

I tell him there's an alternate way, that it's not this no-give-no-take situation. I insist that he is missing so much of our lives that it doesn't possibly seem worth it.  He says his wife receives threatening anonymous letters in the mail. I literally swear on my life and the lives of my family that it is not me, my sister, my brother, my mother sending these anonymous letters. I repeat it over and over, as earnestly as possible. I wish the truth could form clear raindrops and pelt him with their existence.

He does not say anything.

I shrug, saddened, and remember these words, from something I read in highschool:

Ignorance is not bliss, it is oblivion.

Enjoy your oblivion, Dad.

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