Yesterday morning I received news that my Ex's father had passed away. First from a friend, and then in an email from my Ex. I don't hear from her often, and it's usually only after something major has happened. The email I received from her last, was one about her struggles with breast cancer. Suffice to say, this has not been a good year for her.
Last night I was supposed to tell a story at Story Salon. I had planned to talk about the days I spent in Fresno, last week for my birthday. It was going to be a short tale about how a large symbol of my childhood had been torn out by the roots, and how a few other small things had chipped away as well.
Instead, I got up and paid a little tribute to her father. It started out all right, but I was then overcome by the emotion of it all. I didn't bawl my eyes out, but tears flowed and I was barely able to get the last words out.
Ron was a good man. A wise man. A patient man and a great father. He had his flaws as all of us do, but of the several things I remember, one particular remembrance stood out. When my Ex had asked me to leave, and was saying some pretty bad things about me, Ron came to me and asked me one question, and I answered him. To his credit, he believed me. He told me it takes two to make a marriage and two to make it end. That it was never one hundred percent one persons fault...
He then said he hoped I would keep in touch...
Sadly, I never did.
That is my fault...
