Thursday, September 16, 2021

Gone

Opening scene: a man texts his daughter a link to a story he thinks she might like. Above it, on his computer screen, can be seen other texts to her over a period of months. Cute dog videos (she has a cute one herself), messages to call when she would like to talk (her voicemail is full), other messages asking if she is ok. Mostly she doesn’t reply. Once in a while, for his birthday, for instance, she gets back to him with an apology for not staying in touch.

A gift painted when she was sixteen.

Her mother lives with her now. They share a tiny rent-controlled apartment in L.A., where his daughter moved twenty-five years ago to pursue her dream of being a film actress. She’s talented. She has an MFA in drama from a great university; she acted off Broadway. But she has a bad cocktail of brain chemistry that makes her too anxious to promote herself the way one must to succeed in such a tough occupation.


So her life has shrunk down to 430 square feet shared with her mom and an adorable dog.


Her mom is a godsend. His daughter might not be able to manage on her own. Or maybe she could, but her mom doesn’t think so, so she moved in. That’s both the good news and the bad news, in the father’s opinion.


He divorced her mom thirty-five years ago, when his daughter was fifteen. He thought she was happy and carefree then, but he later learned from her that she had been having problems with anxiety for years. She hid them well. He had no idea. Maybe he should have.


Those problems became brutally apparent soon enough. She tried to succeed. He tried to help. Neither was successful.


Now her mother has taken over his daughter’s care…and her life, it seems. Her mother lives in Atlanta but she hasn’t been home in over a year. His daughter wants nothing to do with Atlanta.


At every turn the father and mother felt the other’s choices weren’t the best ones for their daughter. For thirty-five years her mother has refused to to speak to him, so it’s been impossible to work through those disagreements in the normal way. It might have been impossible in any event; they have pretty different perspectives on how to help. 


And his daughter is her own woman. She’s anxious, but she’s otherwise smart and capable. She knows what she wants. The kind of help her mom is giving her.


So he sends her birthday and holiday gifts and texts her cute videos, wondering for the millionth time how it came to this. Wondering if he’s just a fool. If he could have done more, should have done more. Wondering whether his life with his daughter—the delightful, funny intelligent woman who in their times together has brought joy and light into his life—is essentially over.

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