Last weekend my dad called me. For the record, my dad *never* calls me. I talk to my mom quite regularly on MSN, and I get all my news from her… which is usually just stories about people I don’t know and all their various problems… but that’s the kind of stuff she likes to talk about, and I don’t mind listening.

But my dad… I don’t talk to him unless I call home and he happens to answer. (Which is pretty rare because like I said, I talk to mom almost every day, so I almost never call home except birthdays and holidays.) It’s not that dad and I don’t get along, we just don’t talk much. Our phone conversations often last about two seconds -- when mom tries to hand the phone off to him and coaxes, “Say hello to your daughter”, to which he’ll respond, “Hello-Goodbye” and then immediately passes the phone back. I guess he thinks he’s being funny, but I can’t help but assume that it’s also a bit of an act to simply avoid making conversation with me. I’ve come to expect his little skit to be part of the norm, and am always surprised when he actually takes the phone from mom. So needless to say, his unexpected phone call completely knocked me off my feet, especially when he said, “I just wanted to hear your voice.” Really?! You do?!

I don’t know why I read into it so much. I guess I was hoping that maybe this was the beginning of a renewed connection -- his way of reaching out to me. Mom had told me a while ago that when they come out for our reception in October, even though J n’ I will already be married, she’d still like see dad symbolically give me away to J. “He would never admit it, but it would mean a lot to him,” mom told me.

“Serious?” I asked. I have to admit, the thought of dad ‘giving me away’ just seems so ridiculous. In fact, deep down I’ve almost been a little defensive about it -- You have no right to give me away. You chased me away years ago. I am my own person, completely independent of you. I am not yours to give.

As these spiteful thoughts rushed through my mind, I realized that it probably means a lot more to mom for her to see dad give me away, than it means to dad to actually go through with it. Sure, I know dad would probably appreciate the opportunity, but all the same, I think mom would enjoy it much more. And so for her sake, I agreed to think something up, so dad can have his symbolic moment, and mom can take pictures to pass around at church.

So yes, getting back to this phone call… when my dad said that he wanted to hear my voice, I couldn’t help but think that maybe he does genuinely miss my voice? Maybe he does care? Perhaps this is his way of trying to reconcile our emotional distance that I have unsuccessfully tried to mend on my own in the past. Perhaps he wants the act of a father giving his daughter away to actually have some meaning behind it, rather than it just being a sentimental photo opp for my mom. I was thrilled. The fact that he called me for no particular reason meant more to me than I ever would’ve expected.

Unfortunately, because J n’ I were on our way out, our conversation lasted only about 15 minutes – enough time for dad to share a couple cute stories about my niece. I wanted to talk longer. I wanted to pull my weight and work on our reviving our relationship too. So a couple days later I decided to return the gesture and call him back.

Before I made the call, J asked, “Are you going to tell him our movie news?”

Even though the movie news is already over a month old, I still haven’t told my parents about it. I’ve been holding it in… keeping it for myself, rather than trying to force it into a Messenger conversation with my mom. (I say “force” because I generally have to interrupt her neighbourhood gossip to let her know what’s going on in my life -- she never actually asks.) I knew that if I shared it on Messenger, mom would only gloss over the subject, and instead point out that she is proud of both my sister and I for different reasons, before changing the subject back to the weather. She never shows any interest in what’s new with me, and so over the last year or so, I’ve started holding back more and more. I’ve become selfish with my news and accomplishments. I find that whenever I put something out there, it only rots unacknowledged on the vine. And yet, even so, when J asked me if I planned to tell my dad our news, after a pause, I replied, “Yeah… I think maybe I will.”

I dialed the familiar digits and dad answered the phone. He thought it was very nice of me to call back, and I thought it was nice of him to say so. I listened to him share a few more cute stories about my niece, before he finally asked me what’s new. “Wow! What’s new? Mom never asks me what’s new. Score one for dad,” I thought. I took a reluctant breath and decided to just go for it and use this opportunity to share the news about what’s going on with us lately.

“Well, since we won that contest last September for our script, J n’ I have been getting a lot of interest from different production companies who might be interested in making it into a movie… but one of the challenges is that we wrote it with the intention for J to direct, and because J has never directed a full length movie before, that’s a bit of a problem because no one wants to hire a first time director…”

Slightly confused, dad asked, “Is this the movie you guys went somewhere for?”

“Umm… to California and Florida? No, that was for J’s short film… but this is the script that we wrote together… it’s for a full length movie.”

It then dawned on me that my dad probably has no idea what I’m talking about. Although I’ve mentioned that we’ve written a script a few times in the past, neither mom nor dad has really shown too much interest. (Quelle surprise!) Neither of them has ever bothered to ask what our script is about, or even what we won from the contest. I knew I’d have to back things up a bit and simplify.

“This script we wrote, FakeScriptName, is different from J’s short film. You might remember that J n’ I had been working on it during our evenings and weekends for over a year. Then we entered it in a couple contests. We ended up placing as a quarter-finalist with the Academy of Motion Picture’s contest, y’know, those people who do the Oscars…and then it was in another Hollywood contest where we won the Bronze prize. So being in these contests helped bring us some exposure from movie people…”

Silence.

“So even though a lot of movie people have asked to read our script, it doesn’t mean anything because they request hundreds of scripts, and only so many movies get made each year. That’s why it can take like 10 or 15 years to get a movie made… And because J wants to direct our movie, that makes it even more difficult, because people don’t like to trust a first time director. It’s a risky investment because they don’t have a proven track record. Even though J directed an award-winning short film, it still doesn’t count. It’s kind of a paradox that all first time directors face. You need experience to get the opportunity. But you can’t get the opportunity if you don’t have experience.” I paused, waiting for a verbal nod that he understood what I was talking about.

Silence.

J muted the TV in the other room so he could listen to me share the big news with my dad. Ugh. No pressure…

I continued, “Anyway… J’s producer friend told us if we could secure an investment from someone who believes in his ability to direct, it would really help get the ball rolling and give us a better chance at getting the movie made and attaching J as the director.” I waited for my dad to ask a question or to say something so I would know that he was following me and that we were on the same page.

Silence.

“So…” I continued. “We found an investor who believes in J and is willing to put in a million dollars towards our movie…” I was then quick to add, “That million isn’t ours though. We don’t have it in our bank account or anything. It goes towards the movie. And we don’t have to pay it back because it’s not a loan, it’s an investment. Plus, we agreed that it’s only on the condition that we find a production company to produce our movie.”

Silence.

“Yeah, so right now we’ve hired a lady to budget our film and figure out how much it will cost for us to make it. We also have a production company who is currently considering our movie for development, and if they agree to go with it and allow J to direct, then they would help us to raise the rest of the funds we need so we can start making the movie, and maybe even get it into a few theaters.”

Silence.

“Of course, nothing is ever a sure thing… I mean, they might pass on it, and the movie may still not get made for another 10 years. But then again, it could get made as early as this fall, which would be very cool.”

Silence.

I find myself beginning to ramble even more, desperately hoping that something, *anything*, will resonate with my dad and trigger some kind of response. “So yeah… it’d be really great if all the pieces fell into place. As it stands everything is happening so quickly… much quicker than we ever expected. But yeah… the fantasy is if it fell into place then maybe we could quit our jobs this year, and while J starts working on preproduction stuff, I can use that time to start focusing on the next script, or even write a couple different scripts, so that we have a few options to shop around. It would be really great if I could quit my job to be a real writer... writing the stuff I want to write, instead of going into the office and dealing with my dummy manager.”

FINALLY, a response, “So things aren’t going well at work, eh?”

Argh... F*ck. What’s the point?

I realize that nothing will ever beat the over-the-top reaction we got from J’s folks. You’d think we won the lottery the way they shouted and laughed and praised us for the whole weekend we were there, and again in their follow-up phone calls. But even just a “Good for you” from my dad might be nice.

Anyhow, I didn’t push the subject any further. I simply agreed that yes, my manager is a bit of a dumb-a$$, and then allowed Dad to change the subject.

“So your cousin is getting married this year,” he tells me, before going into all the details. It’s funny but he knows more about my cousin’s wedding than he does about mine. Just like the movie stuff, it’s not that I don’t want to share the details, but I want my parents to actually show an interest first by asking us what we have planned. Instead they are only interested in the reception date so they can buy their plane tickets and come out here for dad to ‘give me away’.

Dad then transitioned from the topic of my cousin’s wedding to my reception. For a brief moment I thought he might actually ask me about our wedding. Instead it was only an opportunity to casually point out how insignificant I am. “So, I was telling SomeFamilyFriend about how we’re flying out for your reception, and she was very surprised to hear we had two daughters! She had no idea. A lot of people don’t know that A has an older sister.”

Good grief.

This is not the first time my parents have pointed out that a lot of people don’t realize they have two daughters. In fact, my mom has even told me on one or two occasions that, “It's just that you’re not in town and we never see you… Y’know how it is… sometimes we forget that there’s two of you.” Hmm… no, I don’t know how it is.

And yet, I somehow find myself much less offended by these remarks than what I used to be. I think it all goes back to me realizing that I am my own person and as nice as it would be to receive acknowledgment from my folks, I really don’t need it from them. Besides, acknowledgment means more when it comes from a source that you look up to.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize how I comfortable I have become as the black sheep shunned into the shadows -- living out my own little adventures in a faraway city. Overlooked. Forgotten. Non-existent. At least it’s better than them trying to take the credit for any accomplishments I achieve, when they have done nothing to foster my development. All I’ve learned from them is how not to be. I’m self made, independent of them, and for that reason this shield of invisibility comforts like a warm blanket. Maybe I have grown numb to this treatment, or perhaps it is because standing outside their circle of reality is a much healthier alternative than life within the circle where I constantly seek their approval as they tear me down, use me as their scapegoat and try to hurt me with hateful words and ignorance. I don’t need it.

When I got off the phone, J asked to hear my dad’s reaction to our news. “No reaction,” I said. “But that’s okay… I guess I really didn’t expect one. We’ll see if he tells my mom. That will be the real gage as to whether or not he actually cares.” (Then again, this is the man who didn’t bother to put my mom on the phone when I announced we were engaged. Instead when he told mom the news and she went running for the phone to call me back, he said to her, “You don’t have to call her back. I just told you everything.” Sheesh…)

Fast forward to this weekend… now it was my mom’s turn to call me out of the blue “just to hear my voice.” I waited to see if she would say anything about the news I shared with dad a few days earlier. Instead, she told me about the massive snowstorm they got, how my niece went ice-skating for the first time, the sad downhill slope of an Alzheimer’s patient where she works, then back to the massive snowstorm again and repeat. I barely got five words in and yet, mom gushed over and over again, “I just wanted to hear your voice my darling daughter. I just called to hear your voice.” But all she heard from my end was, “Oh yeah? Wow! Good for her! That’s too bad. Uh-huh…” and repeat, with the occasional question thrown in for good measure to show her that I was listening and interested.

When I got off the phone with her, J asked why I didn’t bother sharing the news with her. Believe me, a part of me really wanted to share, but I held back and bit my tongue. I wanted to wait for the right moment… the moment when she would ask me what was new – but she didn’t. Then again, she never does. She only asked about the weather here, and that was because she wanted to re-tell her story about the snowstorm for the third time in our 15 minute conversation. Actually, as much as I wanted to tell her, I think even if she asked, I don’t know if I would’ve shared the news with her anyway… I’m thinking that from now on I’m just going to keep stuff to myself when it comes to my folks.

Keep it quiet – Keep it special.