It's time to let you go...

I moved to San Francisco for school in 1994. Actually, I didn’t want to go to school, but I had a trust fund and the only way I could gain access to the money is to go to college. At least this is what my father told me. The trust fund came from my super rich republican grandfather and my father is his accountant, which means he gave out the money.

On my moving day, August 16, 1994, my father took me to the airport. I remember having a small CD player with me, a backpack and an overstuffed suitcase. I shipped all my belongings including my television. I had no furniture that year at that apartment.

My father and I didn’t talk about much during the drive to the airport or while waiting for the plane to takeoff. When it was time to board the plane, I hugged my dad and said goodbye. I handed my ticket to the boarding gate attendant and turned back to wave a final goodbye to my father. I was shocked to see his head in his hands, sobbing.

I had the urge to run back and hug him, but I had already given my ticket to the gate attendant, so there was no turning back. Once I was on the plane and sitting down, I thought “Fuck You”. I was mad because my father waits until the very last minute to show me that he cares about me and now it’s too late because I have to get on a plane.

I wrote this poem on the plane on the way to San Francisco:

20 Years
“When he said goodbye to me at the airport
And I was in the line,
About to enter the plane,
About to move to San Francisco,
I turned back to wave a final goodbye
Before he was out of my view.
I was shocked to see his head in his hands,
Hunched over shaking.
He was crying.

My own father crying!
He was crying about me!
I had been ignored for twenty years
And finally, now he had acknowledged my existence.

When the plane rode around the take off strip
And the flight attendants pointed the way to the exits,
I knew then that I couldn't go back
Emotions weren't going to interfere with
My plans to get away.
I waited twenty years.
He can wait until he's dead.”

It seems that whenever someone gets emotional with me, I get angry. I have a history of that. I thought my father was the unemotional one, but really, it’s me. Emotions embarrass me. I love to write about feelings and express them in writing, but being emotional in the real world is not for me.

The song I picked for this entry is from 1994. It’s Bonnie Raitt with “Circle Dance”, a song about parents and relationships.

Bonnie Raitt--Circle Dance

http://www.zshare.net/audio/4409167bc6015d/

“Now that this has occurred to me
I just wanted you to know
I've been too faithful all my lifeIt's time to let you go.”