For the description i tried to add a little between dialouge but i didn't add too much more. I didn't feel as if it need alot more. I also decided to stick with just telling a story of the first fight and showing how my mom was there for me with that one. At the end I made the point that she has been like that for every other fight that I have had with my father.
Encouraging Mom
“Morgan, you need to give him another chance. You need to give him the benefit of the doubt,” my mother explained to me.
My parents split up when I was in 6th grade. It was a hard time, but I dealt with it quite well. My sister and I had a set schedule for where we were supposed to be on set night. Mondays and Wednesdays I was at my mom’s house. On Tuesday and Thursday I was to spend the night at my dad’s house. I would switch every weekend and then on Sundays I would switch too. It worked out well when it was just the three of us at each house. But that didn’t last long.
By the end of seventh grade, my mom had found my step dad and my dad had found my step mom. We were switching around houses and in the end they ended up moving in with us and there were two new houses. At first everything was fine. I liked both my step mom and my step dad. I got along with my step siblings too. Everything seemed like it would have all worked out but that just wasn’t the case.
After about six months, things at my dad’s house went down hill. My step mother and I started to fight about stupid stuff. It started to get really bad. My dad would always take her side and always change everything that he ended up saying originally for what she wanted her to say.
The first time that there was ever a big problem was before my dad and step mom was married. I remember getting in the fight over something stupid and it blowing up. That first time she sat me down and was just yelling at me. I remember her saying “I am your fathers number one… fan,” which I know she really wasn’t planning on saying. I still believe to this day she wanted to say that she was his favorite.
After that my dad took me outside to talk to me about what had just happened. He just wanted to calm me down. “You did nothing wrong in there,” he would tell me over and over again.
I would just sit there in quiet while he just kept talking to me. Once I calmed down he left me to go talk to her. I waited outside for him to come back and when he did his opinion on what had happened had changed.
“You shouldn’t have done what you did. You need to respect her more…”and he just kept going on and on. I just couldn’t understand how what he thought could change so quickly or how she could manipulate what he thought so easily. It got to the point that I couldn’t live at his house anymore so I had to do something to get out.
That first night that I left there, I had my mom come and pick me up. She was always there for me and always came and got me whenever I needed her to. She would always say to me “I will keep my phone on me incase you need me.” My mom is a lot like me. She has the same weathered acorn eye color and they are almond shape. Her hair is brunette with streaks of caramel and chestnut through it just like mine.
After I left, I went back to my mom’s house. She would sit there with me and talk to me about what happened for as long as I needed to. She would listen to what I said and comfort me. When she would talk to me to try and calm me down her voice was so comforting to me. Often her voice comes off as strong and confident, but not that night. That night was soothing. It was just what I needed.
“It just got too hard for me to handle over there I can’t handle it anymore,” I said to her that night when I got home.
That night she didn’t push anything or say anything about me going back over there anytime soon. She saved that for when I calmed down a few days later. She knew that I didn’t need to hear anything about wanting to go back over there. I think at that point she didn’t want me to. She just wanted me to stay at her house so I would be happy. She was almost as upset about the whole situation as I was.
After about a week, I still wasn’t talking to my dad. I was too stubborn to talk to him yet. I was still too hurt to talk to him. I was very angry at him at that point. The problem was that my mom knew that I hadn’t talked to him in a while and she always had a way of getting me to do what I knew that I should do.
“Morgan, have you talked to you dad yet?”
“No, I’m not ready to yet. He hurt me and I’m not ready to hear him spaz again.”
“How do you know that he will? You need to look at things from the bright side. I’m not saying jump back over there and go to his house to spend the night again. But at least talk to him to make it so you still have a relationship with you father. He is your dad. You need to talk to him at some point,” my mom always said the same things in the fights to follow. She wouldn’t push too hard and I could tell in her guy that she would wait for me to be ready to talk to him.
“I can’t do it though. I am sick of getting hurt and I can’t do it anymore. It is too hard.”
“Morgan, you need to look at the glass half full instead of half empty. I know that your dad can be very stubborn, but sometimes he can surprise you,” the tone of her voice gave of how she really thought. I knew that she knew it wouldn’t be that easy for me.
After that talk, I waited a couple of more days before I ended up calling him. It was a little rocky but it worked out in the end. It took me a couple of months before he asked me to come live with him again but he did. That was not the last fight I had with him or with my step mom. My relationship with my dad has never been the same since that fight. I know that there will be more fights to come and it will be a struggle to get through every single one of them.
Along with know there are more fights to come, I know that my mom will always be there to help me to get through them and just sit there in silences while I try to come down a little bit. She will always be there to encourage me to keep a relationship with him.
I love it!
ReplyDeleteI do hope you are proud of it. It is beautiful.
Ms. Basko