“Please, stop,” I pleaded with no response. “I don’t want to hang up on you today.”
Tears were streaming down my face. I could not believe we were going through this again. We had this same conversation so often that I practically had his speech memorized. My heart hurt. I felt numb. Like a disobedient dog being beaten half to death. How could a relationship be reduced to petty arguments and angry words so easily?
“Please, Dad! I hate this stuff. You know this. Can’t we just talk about something else?”
We’ve never agreed on politics. Liberal versus conservative. Democrat versus Republican. The older we both get, the greater the divide. When my mother was alive, the problem was easy to avoid because most of my calls back home involved only a few minutes with him. But after she passed, without that buffer, we have just been…broken.
I stared blankly at the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, my dad’s voice droning on in my ear. My head began to pound, like it always did when my blood pressure was on the rise. I would have to stop this soon.
“Please, Daddy,” I tried one more time. Not even a pause.
As I pushed the end button on my iPhone, I began to sob.
©2017 Nancy Lehmann
