“nothing’s done right around here!” my father complained.
“i can’t eat this liver! it’s not cooked all the way!”
“mommy and i are not going back to that dentist! he doesn’t know anything about old people. he’s too young!”
“why should i have him clean my teeth, when i can clean them myself?”
“all he wants is our money. he doesn’t even clean them, he has some young girl clean them.”
“we need an old dentist who knows old people.”
i’ve learned over the years not to engage in an argument with my dad. he and i see things differently. i don’t have to try and convince him to see it my way, and experience yelling, disrespect and disdain. instead i choose to listen with my heart, and hear his fear. i can let him vent, and allow the peace within me be my friend.