Even when my mother was alive he preferred to stay at home listening to the radio and working crossword puzzles while she went out at night. She scheduled the social events, organized the dinner parties, made all the new friends. After she died, it wasn’t much of a surprise that he spoke even less. Over the years, his occasional phone calls consisted mainly of questions about the weather and the performance of my car. Later, he’d ask about my daughters. He wanted to hear only the good news. If I mentioned my mother or said I was having a hard day, silence was typically his response. If I brought up his drinking or his weight, I’d hear a quick goodbye and a click. Maybe he’d call back in a few days or weeks. Long portions of my adult life were spent wondering which one of us would break down first and pick up the phone. The easy explanation for my pervasive fear of abandonment is that my mother died when I was seventeen, but that’s never been a reason that’s made much sense to me.
What do You think about Motherless Daughters (2010)?
