A couple weeks ago I got a call from the middle sister (I’m the oldest of 3) to ask if I heard from dad. Nope. My sisters have a different mom and my mom and dad divorced when I was 3 and I can’t remember a time “dad” has ever called me except on my birthday. I always have to do the calling.

Currently, I live about 3 hours away from him (which was not always the case, usually much further) and so every once in a while I go and visit. Probably not as much as I should but our relationship has always been strained.

My sister proceeds to tell me that her uncle (my late step moms brother) is selling the home my dad has been living in for almost 20 years and has to be out by Sept 30th. My dad, having heart issues, is retired and living on a very tight budget of social security that won’t afford him even a studio. As such, he is moving in with my youngest sister, 4 hours away.

Which brings us to this week, he’s moving on Sunday and so I call him to make sure he’s okay with me coming for a visit on Saturday before he leaves. He’s good. Plans set.

What I didn’t realize was the emotion that has popped up regarding this move. I don’t really have a relationship with the youngest sister, being that I lived with my mom and she’s almost 8 years younger. Now she’s got her life which is very jammed packed full of this sport or that sport or school or work, she has 4 kids.

This visit will probably be the last visit before he passes on. It’s hard for me to get down to where my sister lives and I plan on moving out of state as soon as we finish a few repairs and sell our home.

I really thought I had already grieved the relationship that didn’t happen with him. (not for my lack of trying). Eventually just accepting that he is who he is and our relationship is what it is if I choose to continue to have one.

This ache in my chest still has more grief to shed. I honestly didn’t think I’d be all that upset when he passes… but looks like I just may surprise myself.

It's a weird feeling, knowing you may never see the person again. To know that the next time I even see my sisters will be when our dad passes. I feel like the step child within my own blood. Even my step dad’s family treats me like the stepchild. That’s a whole different story.

I guess, there’s still some abandonment to heal.