I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but shortly after my father's death I had a moment where I was almost relieved. I know that sounds awful and I don't actually mean it in a good way, but I had a fleeting thought that now we wouldn't have to worry about him anymore and the drama would end. I actually believed that for a second.
As it turns out, I was wrong. In the two years and two months since his passing, he has managed to put a wedge between us once again. I am so sad with what's going on between my sister and us. Metaphorically speaking, she is so far away from us and I worry she will never come back. I almost feel as though I'm in mourning, that's how upset I am and how strained our relationship has become. I stare constantly at photographs of the three of us when we were younger and I wonder over and over where we went wrong. I swore to myself that my sisters and I would always be close, no matter what and I have failed them again. I will always blame myself, I don't care what anyone says. I know we all make our own decisions, for better or worse, and we all have to live our own lives. But I can't help but think that if I had spent one more day or hour or even a minute with her that things would be different. I want her to be that goofy and loving and magnificent person I know she is.
Instead she's gone. When I do manage to get a hold of her, most times we end up fighting. She pushes me away. She pushes her mother away. She's spoken to J. directly only once since the big Christmas blow out and even that ended in an argument. She doesn't need me, I know that. She doesn't want me, and that's hardest to accept.
I try not to blame my father. It's not all his fault. I understand that people do have to take responsibility for their actions. I certainly take responsibility for all of mine. But I have once again severely underestimated the power of alcoholism. I can't help but wonder when we'll reach our bottom.