Salt Lake City, UT – “It’s Not Your Fault Line” – September 21, 2001
This morning, we left Sun Valley, ID. There, we’d played two nights in sheds under a mountain covered in a blanket of stars.
Dad had me sing an unrehearsed “Mocking Bird,” as an encore. People seemed to dig it and, of course, I had the time of my life. That night we slept up at Dad’s manager, Gary Borman’s, house. His living room hosted a view of the mountains so wide, it felt glutenous to take it in, in a single glance.
We had a hike through giggling golden aspens. The leaves rained down like nature’s confetti and when we got back, Dad thought we had time to get another workout in before nightfall. We borrowed a couple of bikes and headed out on the a path through town. Though I’m roughly half his age, I found it challenging to keep up with him. I’m convinced my ol’ man will never get old. But it wasn’t just fitness my pop was proposing on this outing. We’ve always found difficult conversations easier when our hearts are already racing and he had some challenging news.
“I’m afraid I’ve got to let you go back to Colorado a couple days early” he said. “Jerry [road manager] is looking into changing your flights from Tuesday to Sunday if that’s alright.” The change of course was truly minimal but I felt devastated all the same. I tried to keep my composure. Was my presence a burden? Was a week with me too much to bear? Did he hate my voice? He must hate my voice. Always looking for proof of my unworthiness, I scouwered my brain for reasons why I was being dismissed from his life (and not just the measly extra 3 days he was suggesting).
Of course, I found plenty. They were waiting for me like bandits hiding out in the shadows of my hopes — “You’re not important,” “You’re not successful or beautiful or talented,” “You should be ashamed of wanting more,” “Your dad has more important things to deal with,” “He has the unconditional love of so many people, why do you think your love is special?” “You’re a burden,” “You’re selfish,” “You were never worthy of his love, why do you think your parents got divorced?” “You’re the first batch of pancakes, the ones that get thrown out.” These corrosive beliefs jumped on me, hijacking my dreams. Of course, they were a gross overreaction to a visit cut short. But childhood fears are tricky. They’re always waiting in the wings for an invitation to spoil a vulnerable moment.
I held my tears, grateful dad was riding ahead of me and couldn’t see the expression on my face. “Ok pop. How come?” I tried to sound casual.
“Oh, well, Kim and the boys are coming out, and I think I’ll just be too preoccupied,” he said, “I should probably focus on being a dad right now I’m afraid.” I knew he meant to add ‘of two new babies’ but what I heard was ‘you’re no longer my daughter and I need you to get out of the way of my new, better life.’ I took it in stride, already resigned to my insecurities.
“Ya, Ok Dad. I understand.” I swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and gave myself into self loathing. Dean was already in Thailand for work. I wasn’t going home to his strong arms and I felt lonely. I felt depressed, damp and suddenly I realized how cold I felt. Perhaps it was the chill in my heart freezing me from within or perhaps it was my sports bra. I’d grabbed it, still damp from the wash before we left for our ride.
The sun was sinking down. Dad offered to buy me a sweatshirt but we only had 19 bucks between the two of us and decided we’d better just to get back before it got much colder. But by the time we returned, I had all the telltale signs of hypothermia—nausea, dehydration, and dizziness. I spent the rest of the night shivering in a 102° hot tub under the mothering supervision of Mrs. Ann Borman, and her friend Barbara Rose.
My pop did his guitar nails in the room with me while I rested — a ritual involving super glue, a plastic hotel key card, fiberglass, and a nail file. He whistled while he worked and hugged me between dryings. I know how much my dad loves me—really I do. His hugs felt like apologies for not having more to give. But I know all this is not his fault and I know it’s not Kim’s fault or the new twin’s fault or the road’s fault or even my fault. This is the fault that lies in our family line — a fault inherited from ancestors who didn’t know their sense of rejection and unworthiness it wasn’t their fault. And I know what my job is, if I can muster the strength to do it in this lifetime. It’s to politely decline the fault for myself and gracefully forgo the opportunity to pass it along.
Reading that first part hurt my heart. Of course i immediately thought Sally should stay and help with the twins and get to know your new family. You are very understanding Sally.
That might have been a nice solution.
This brought tears to my eyes Sally.
How selfish of Kim not to insist this scheduled time of You and your Dad was most important, regardless of her own needs.
You had the right to allow your heart to sink and allow all your insecurities to surface.
Knowing when we become adults we must be accountable for our thoughts and behavior….a gift we can erase sad feelings from childhoid upbringings ?
But I question if we can ever erase blaming our own actions for our parents dismissal from our lives.
Feeling the deep hurt that occurrs when love drifts away…from the laughter and fun memories we cherish forever.
It is so sad you were dismissed early …only 3 more days…days you may have needed to work out the hurt within your hearts.
Life doesn’t seem fair in so many ways…breaking our hearts..conditioning us to become numb and cold.
Love conquers all 🤗❤️💃🪷😌🕊❤️
Honestly, I appreciate your compassion for these moments I suffered, but yes while people could’ve behaved differently, so could I. I could have told my father “I refuse to go.” I could’ve suggested I babysit the boys and stay on the road. I could’ve given my dad the space to be a new father. But instead, I didn’t advocate for myself because I didn’t have the self-esteem necessary. It was easier to say “OK” and feel terrible about myself than it was to say “I deserve a dad too and I’m not leaving.”
Sally, I do believe your father did the best he could! But he failed as a dad to you and your brother. When he remarried his focus was on his new family ! I know he doesn’t talk to your mom and that’s his loss! But you and your brother have nothing to do with your parents relationship. I believe your mom was really hurt by his total rejection of her! I believe he associated your mom with his drug addictions days ! She had no control over this and think she loved him and still loves him. Kim had been a big obstacle into your relationship with your dad! It’s almost like he wants to eliminate those years from
His life but he has two beautiful adult children from his marriage with your mom? Again his loss but you are strong will accept whatever he gives you!
Sally, I’m sure your dad loves you but he has always made poor decisions. My heart is grateful that your mom is a constant in your life and that he devotion to motherhood is admirable. Above all, I wish you peace and love.
Hey Marianne,
We’re all imperfect people, myself included, trying our best and failing mostly. I’ve learned that most people in my life are pretty great as long as I don’t pick them up and try to use them as weapons against myself. Unfortunately, I’m in the habit of beating myself up with other people sometimes, whether I (or they) deserve it. But my mom, my brother, husband, stepmother and father are all humans. Cute, beautiful, messy, dangerous, silly humans and I love all of us. I appreciate your blessings of peace and love and send the same to you.
Hey MaryEllen,
It’s impossible to make sense of who was right and who was wrong. The past is subjective and up for interpretation and I appreciate yours. It’s complicated.
Hurt my heart, too.
XO
The joy I’ve seen when you perform with your mom and Ben is not to be compared. While I enjoy dad’s music, it’s all about the show. With mom, it’s the joy of having her kids alongside her.
Hey Marianne,
I love performing. Whether it’s with my mom, pop, brother, uncle or a busker on the street, I love making music… with family and those harmonies, all the sweeter.