No Tears Today

Last night Ken and I watched the movie Death at a Funeral on DVD. We saw it in the theater and liked it. I wanted to see it again. I particularly wanted to hear the speech that Daniel gives at the end, at his father's funeral.

Twelve years ago today my father died of a sudden heart attack. My mother called me the next morning, but I wasn't home. When I did get home, Ken told me the news.
"Your mom called. Duane died last night."
"The minister at mom's church?" I asked.
"No. That's what I thought, too. Sharon, your father died last night."
"Oh. I'll call mom and see how she's doing."

I called my mom, who told me as much as she knew. I told her we wouldn't be able to get there until Monday evening because I had to write lesson plans to cover four days. She said, "You're coming? I didn't think you'd come." I explained that I was coming for her, not my dad. He was gone.

From the time I was a small child I tried to figure out what my father wanted. I behaved myself, I earned good grades, I took care of my siblings, I showed interest in what he cared about, I did everything I was told, and I tried to stay out of his way. It didn't matter. Nothing made him happy.

When I was thirty years old I learned that if I wanted to be a sane, healthy wife and mother, I had to let go of the idea of a relationship with my father. My lifelong attempt was making me sick. I could not be one person for my father and someone else with the other people in my life. I had to set boundaries, and I knew that when I did my life would change forever.

My life did change. My dad didn't accept me, and I could no longer be anyone else.

I shed no tears the day I heard that my father died. I had cried for thirty years and lived farewell for ten. In comparison, the final good-bye was easy.

In his speech in the movie, Daniel says, "You have to grow up yourself." In the end, that's all you can do.