If you've read the West Street Sequence (so far) of A Prolonged Illness (note: no longer on the web site), you will know about Tim, my mother's ex-husband. Jim, the Philadelphia Flyers lover. Tim, the man who wouldn't talk when I was at the dinner table, unless it was to harangue me. Tim, the Big Mean Step-Father.

After Mom kicked him out and life became simultaneously freer and crazier, Jim did some soul-searching. Went to therapy. Joined a church. Eventually remarried. And would take me out to dinner about once a year. The last time I saw him also was the most bizarre. Tim, his wife, and his sister (Joy), came to DC to have dinner with me before I left for graduate school. I hadn't seem Joy in almost ten years. She just couldn't stop with the remarks: "You talk just like Chris [my mother]! You have mannerisms just like Chris! You move your hands just like Chris! That's exactly what Chris would do!" Since she hated Chris for hurting "Timmy," these comments were not meant kindly. I eventually burst into tears. Joy gave a petulant apology. I swear she even stuck out her lower lip.

These dinners were never comfortable for me. What was his agenda? Did he feel guilty? Did he want to make it right? Who knows, maybe he was fond of me. Hewas in our lives for 7-8 years, for a large chunk of my childhood.

We lost touch after he and family moved to Idaho, about a decade ago. I tracked him down late last year (yeah, I know, I know) and he's been sending cards and presents for C for holidays ever since. So here I am in the middle of a Tim flashback, hating the man for being a prick, when we get this Easter package from him with toys for C.

I'm feeling a bizarre mix of feelings right now, mainly anger and guilt, the usual partners in crime, though there has to be some sadness, too. Do I have to forgive everyone, see the human in every single fucked up bastard I've come across?

Tags: step-father, forgiveness