trUSt.

 I think on the topic of my family; and the trust I can no longer put out for them.

Not mine here in the flat; I mean the family I see sparingly, by choice, these days.

The only reasons I go to them, is to see my dad, and my baby sister.

No longer are the days I can really give a charitable thought towards my father's girlfriend, wife. person. I don't despise her, hardly. Nor do I disdainfully view my father having a relationship after his wife, my mum, passed away some 13 years ago. I in fact, when I found out he'd paired up for someone, was happy for him.

No longer are the days I can look at my sister - the middle one - with anything lately but hostile thoughts.

I am typically a very generous, easy going person. I give what I can; and expect the same in return. Give as can give; love as can love; and so be loved in return.

A foolish notion in many, many situations.

I've been burned due to my generous nature before, my sister being no exception.

I think on the word trust.

I spoke this evening to my uncle, on my fathers side, his brother. I trust this person; and he trusts myself. We talk of things that I speak of only with my husband, and on occasion my cousin.

This conversation, though brief, and glossed over several issues, topics and events, got the juices flowing.

Do I trust my father household anymore? That chaotic miasma of maddening dramatics and farce? That he allows my sister, whom left considerable bruises on our 4 month old daughter, whom never apologized (!!!), to stay in his home is puzzling.

This is a sore topic in our home. I visit him, as I worry after him and my baby sister, my half sister. I call her my Starship. At this rate, my Starship will have to shoot straight for the stars to get away from the mess at home.

My father's ability as a parent is less in question - then his ability to maintain his household in a semblance of order. It's not my place to say how and when he should do things. I did that once in a rare argument I had with him.

I think it cut him more then I realized, but it was never spoken of again.

His way is that of passive aggressive, with the occasional blow up. I saw this as I grew up. Mum would flip the fuck out over things, and there was dad. Wondering why the crap?

I can see that in myself now and my husband. We both have a tendency to compliment each other like that. Some times, we both tackle a problem qith logic. OPther times, one of us will flip out;and the other goes 'da fuq??'

But I trust my husband.

In my dad, I find my trust is actually shaken.

I trust few people; a shame to find the trust in one person I always trusted is questioned.

I can no longer really speak freely to anyone in that house. My buisness does not remain my own.

So I think about it, and maybe it's for the better we are leaving for Washington. I hope that he can find some calm in where ever he chooses to retire too.

I hope the rift between us can be mended some time, but I can't think to hold my breath for long. 've a family of my own to help grow and to love.