Dad and I went on another walk tonight, but on the way to the B&A trail we got in an argument. He insisted that we had walked north yesterday while I had spent most of my lunch hour looking at maps of the trail and knew for a fact that we had gone south. The trail runs from Annapolis to Baltimore and we walked south from the Marley Station Mall to Jumpers Hole road. However, the simple, hand drawn map I had printed showed the mall south of Jumpers Hole road and Dad kept insisting I had to be wrong. I finally blew up at him after explaining less and less patiently that the map was wrong… that I had looked at three official maps for an hour that proved I was right… that logically it was impossible for us to have gone North… etc, etc, etc. I was really rude finally, and I am sorry about that, but I think I know why I overreacted.
Everyone who knows me, knows that I will NOT argue about facts unless I am 100% sure I am right. I have had too many unpleasant experiences with siblings who love to make me feel stupid if I’m wrong, to ever take a chance arguing about stuff I can’t prove. But my own father doesn’t know that about me? That bothered me. I don’t care about the map or the facts, I knew I was right all along, but that’s not the point. If he knew me half as well as my most casual acquaintance at work he would know to trust me if I state an absolute fact. He could have trusted me over the crappy map, but he didn’t.
Sometimes I don’t think we have a good relationship at all. I love him and I know he loves me, but we don’t seem to connect like Mom and I do. I wish we did, he means a lot to me. It’s not just because he’s a guy that we don’t connect. Most of my best friends are men and I never have a problem connecting with them. While I was growing up my dad was a fabulous listener. Whenever I would be really upset my dad would be the one to listen to my problems and offer advice or comfort or both. But now he just tunes me out. Can you love someone and still not care about them? I wonder.