The Eldest Child - Session 1

(Beep. Music fades in)

Well, now that all of your anger towards me is out of the way. Or I think it is. At least for now. But it’s probably going to come back. Right now, though, things are somewhat lined up in my favor. A bit. They could be worse is what I’m saying. And there’s only so much I can do about that. I can try to arrange everything in a not terrible pattern, but in the end, I’ve got to deal with a certain number of pieces in the framework that was left in front of me, that I cannot change. There’s only so many possible combinations. And not all of them make sense, so what am I going to do but what I have to do? Right now, I have to make this recording while your temper is not as hot as it normally is. 

Although, I will say, no offense taken at any of that. In fact, I want to commend you for being fairly good and responsible about all of this. You are angry, which is fair, but you are expressing that anger at a disembodied voice when you’re alone. So great. And, yes, your siblings have caught you once or twice, but your new baby and the mother of said baby have absolutely clue what is going on. Good. Good job and all that. 

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with controlled anger directed at no one who will actually feel it. Yelling at the television during a bad sports play is not ideal, but it is not bad either. It’s a way of venting frustration and releasing that negative energy without actually harming someone. In some ways, I’m just a sports game. And each session is a play at the ball. And none of those words were right, but you know what I mean.

And I know what you're thinking: bold of me to make a sports analogy as someone who clearly does not know much about sports. Admittedly, I could not come up with anything else, so I ran with that one. But sometimes, when you think you don’t have the right information, all you can do is gather up what you do have: hoping you can, in fact, Macgyver some sort of solution with the scraps at your feet. You don’t have what you need so you just gather up a bunch of stuff to fill that space or to fulfill a certain purpose. And this can be done with so many things. Not just with a less than ideal metaphor or but constructing a version of yourself that is the ideal father.

(Music cuts)

Got you.

(Music fades in)

Did you really think I didn’t know what your problem was? Or the recent problem. The current manifestation of this ongoing issue your having. The thing that your mind has been utterly consumed by lately. Did you really think I didn’t know what that was? Trick question. Or rhetorical question, I guess. I know that’s what you thought. And yep, got you again. I’m not saying you're predictable. I’m saying I can read your situation. Let’s pretend for a moment the medium of the message or the ‘how’ is not relevant or that we can actually agree on it. There is some common ground there. You think I’m fake. And I don’t think I’m a good person. They may sound different, but conceptually, they argue similar points, so we can go with that. For a moment, it doesn’t matter how I know but that I know. 

I know that in the months leading up to the birth of your first child, even before that, before the conception but when you were (pained)… working on that part (muttering) shot myself in the foot with that one… (normal volume) I know there was a long time where you were talking to your dad about what fatherhood was going to be like. You had asked him because he was a good father. A great father. You wanted to be at least half the dad he was. And to that end, you halfway asked him to show you how to be like that, and he halfway agreed. Now neither of you really said what you meant in words but in the unspoken language of close family members. You told him you needed him. He promised you that he would be there. And that was that. 

Until he died. And in the wake of that death, you’ve been so consumed with the various and mostly very real vacuums in your life–those vast swatches of empty space waiting to swallow you up–that you’ve never stopped to realize that some of them might not actually be there. And here’s an example of that.

Think about it for a moment. There was a reason you made that request of him. It wasn’t just that you already loved your hypothetical child, which you did. It was that you did not think you could be a good father without that instruction. That there was something for you to learn, only through him and only through a more formal sort of instruction. You didn’t think you would have it otherwise. You still don’t think you have it. And without it, you’re doing the aforementioned scrambling, but do you need to? Do you need to do that? Have you asked yourself that question?

I’ve seen the eulogy you gave. Or parts of it. The pieces of it that have seeped into my dreams. Which you don’t believe, I know. You aren’t inclined to believe me. I get it. But you told the story of the renaissance faire the two of you went to, how you almost choked on the turkey leg, but he was right there to save you. How could I know that detail? 

(Music fades out and new music fades in) 

You didn’t see me. Or, rather, you didn’t see anyone you did not already know. All of those faces were accounted for, right? Every single person had a name and know link to the family. Above all, each had a voice you would recognize. Unlike mine. So how did I know about that? What corner was I lurking you, you want to ask of me? You are asking of me. I won’t answer. It doesn’t matter.

Because regardless, there is something we need to discuss. Or something I want you to do. I want you to take a moment to think about how you describe him and the value you put to certain actions that he did. And certain ones that he didn’t. The lessons he taught you. And the lessons that he knew to omit. Think about that accounting, that list of what a good father is.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

And I never said that was ideal. I never said that you would not have benefited from learning the way you had intended, with your father just over your shoulder as you guide your own child. You don’t have to convince me that any time with a good father is worthwhile. I know what I didn’t have. What I mean to point out, however, is that you do not have nothing. You have something. You have more than you think.

But why didn’t you trust it? I mean, we know why you don’t trust it now: because I said it. And you don’t trust me. But before I pointed that out, you didn’t see it, you didn’t trust that this accounting was a tool at your disposal. Why was that? Is it because you didn’t trust yourself to actually have what you need? Is it that you didn’t trust yourself at all? Do you trust yourself?

Oh yes, we’re back to that. We’ll always circle back to that.

(Music fades out. Beep)

The Oracle of Dusk is a production of Miscellany Media Studios with music licensed from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. It was written, edited, produced, and performed by MJ Bailey. And if you like the show, tell friends about it or the quasi-friends that are still on your social media feeds because social norms evolved before words did, am I right?