October's Thanksgiving with my parents in Nanaimo was a mixed blessing. Dad stayed out of our hair (myself, Stephen & Mum) during the preparation. The meal was wonderfully delicious.

What I did not expect was a huge, horrible revelation which my father shared with my husband while I assisted Mum with the dishes after that lovely meal!

I always knew Dad to be a cruel, jealous man -- whether it is against his brother, me, my sister, anyone, due to his deep rooted personal insecurities.

Once my husband was alone with me that night in my parents' spare room, he shared everything with me about that fateful night from many, many years past when Uncle R. stayed with us on a business trip in Ottawa. I was about 13 years old and my sister E. was about 11 years old. It all makes sense as to why Dad so adamantly refused to support my desire to go to Sheridan College (and had terrible arguments with Mum about it). Mum privately confessed to me late Monday night (October 10th - Canadian Thanksgiving) -- Dad had strictly told Mum NEVER to tell me anything when he found out I could not remember the reason for the rift years later. Dad knew that Uncle R. was my favourite uncle and that I would attempt to renew contact with his family back then. Everyone who knows my artistic talents and me, knows that Dad tyranically held me back, but no one ever knew the real reason why. My pursuit in an arts career perhaps would have had a firm base despite my severe hearing loss. Well, what's bygone is bygone --.

When my husband told me all the details, I confessed to Stephen I could not rember the meal at all of that fateful night. All I could remember was waking up just before 1 am & seeing my poor sister Edith with her pillow clamped over her head, trying to block out the mayhem downstairs. Naturally, with my curiosity, I crept downstairs to sit on the last few steps of the stairs. It was then that I witnessed the wine glass flying across the far side of the living room and smashing against the wall. P.S., who was one of the guests that night, rushed down the hall, apologised to my Mother, who was in the kitchen, and then quickly left. Mum apparently couldn't sleep because my Father was arguing with his brother. Wide eyed, I then ran back half-way up the stairs, and continued to listen in bewilderment. First, Uncle R.'s words: "You will regret this. I will never step foot in your house ever again." And my Father's words: "I will hold you to your word, Ray."

I experienced 2 flashbacks in the wee hours of October 11th -- terrible memories flooded back to haunt me. The memories hurt me and I had at least 2 good cries.

And my Father, even though he is now near death, refuses to see his brother who wants to make peace! My Father is holding his brother to his word to the very bitter end. All this because of overdrinking. What utter stupidity!

I will write more later this holiday season.