time, helping me out with Luke and around the house â encouraging me to drop my guard â before hitting me with another doozy.
Here was a grown man who apparently thought it was perfectly okay to sleep under my roof, eat my food and drive my car, but still believed that I was the lesser person. It defied explanation. I was once again astounded by his sense ofsuperiority, delusion and entitlement. Looking back, itâs obvious to me now that all of that was a manifestation of something much more sinister: born of his deep-seated (but never acknowledged) inferiority complex. In his heart of hearts, he knew he was a failure as a father, a partner and a provider â and so he resorted to intimidation.
Greg had a funny relationship with religion. It was the haven to which he retreated when confronted with a world he couldnât navigate. He would cite entire passages of the Bible, reeling them off by rote, using them to make a point, but completely missing the bigger picture: that Christianity was a religion based in compassion, generosity and kindness to your fellow human being.
As the months progressed and winter turned to spring, I started to make the most of my surroundings. I loved being outdoors with Luke and my dogs. I would strap him into the Baby Bjorn and march all over Menzies Creek. The dogs tolerated Luke well. They had been my children before Luke was born, but they seemed to take their relegation to second division with good humour. The only trouble the dogs caused was between Greg and me. We would argue all the time about whether they ought to be indoors or outdoors. He wanted the dogs outside, where Luke wouldnât be exposed to their germs. But I argued they were family: that Iâd had them five years, and they had lived with me all that time inside the house. It would be unfair to suddenly banish them.
Greg had these funny ideas about animal energy. He believed that exposure to animals somehow lowered your spirit â and so he became contemptuous of the dogs. As the years progressed, he would make comments about smelling the dogs on Luke and how Luke was being brought down by them.
In many respects, Greg was very over-protective of Luke â to the point of obsessiveness. Which is why, I suppose, I always trusted him with Luke. He didnât like strangers looking at Luke, and he certainly couldnât abide people in the street coming up and touching him. He tolerated my friends touching him, but only those who had children. His possessiveness towards Luke was sometimes overbearing.
One weekend, I consented to take Luke to visit Gregâs parents. They lived in country Victoria, about two hoursâ drive north of Melbourne. Iâd met them once or twice before and they were lovely people. But as I had never wanted to give them â or Greg â the wrong impression about our relationship, I had always steadfastly refused to visit them. I didnât see the point. But now with Luke in the picture â and with Greg so clearly proud to show off his son to them â I agreed to a day in the country. They were, after all, Lukeâs grandparents. They were the only family Luke had here in Australia. I figured I owed it to him to at least create a path for there to be a relationship between them further down the track.
Gregâs parents were perfectly lovely â excited to meet Luke and very kind with me. Greg could not have been more proud â he just wanted their unconditional approval. But while he now had a son and they were inextricably linked to this baby, so fluid were the relations between Greg and his mother and father, they seemed unsure about exactly how much they would let themselves become attached. Of course, Greg was oblivious to all of this. To his mind, the visit was an important step in the recasting of our relationship. He took the visit to mean I was ready, finally, to be the family Greg always believed we ought to have been. The truth
Here was a grown man who apparently thought it was perfectly okay to sleep under my roof, eat my food and drive my car, but still believed that I was the lesser person. It defied explanation. I was once again astounded by his sense ofsuperiority, delusion and entitlement. Looking back, itâs obvious to me now that all of that was a manifestation of something much more sinister: born of his deep-seated (but never acknowledged) inferiority complex. In his heart of hearts, he knew he was a failure as a father, a partner and a provider â and so he resorted to intimidation.
Greg had a funny relationship with religion. It was the haven to which he retreated when confronted with a world he couldnât navigate. He would cite entire passages of the Bible, reeling them off by rote, using them to make a point, but completely missing the bigger picture: that Christianity was a religion based in compassion, generosity and kindness to your fellow human being.
As the months progressed and winter turned to spring, I started to make the most of my surroundings. I loved being outdoors with Luke and my dogs. I would strap him into the Baby Bjorn and march all over Menzies Creek. The dogs tolerated Luke well. They had been my children before Luke was born, but they seemed to take their relegation to second division with good humour. The only trouble the dogs caused was between Greg and me. We would argue all the time about whether they ought to be indoors or outdoors. He wanted the dogs outside, where Luke wouldnât be exposed to their germs. But I argued they were family: that Iâd had them five years, and they had lived with me all that time inside the house. It would be unfair to suddenly banish them.
Greg had these funny ideas about animal energy. He believed that exposure to animals somehow lowered your spirit â and so he became contemptuous of the dogs. As the years progressed, he would make comments about smelling the dogs on Luke and how Luke was being brought down by them.
In many respects, Greg was very over-protective of Luke â to the point of obsessiveness. Which is why, I suppose, I always trusted him with Luke. He didnât like strangers looking at Luke, and he certainly couldnât abide people in the street coming up and touching him. He tolerated my friends touching him, but only those who had children. His possessiveness towards Luke was sometimes overbearing.
One weekend, I consented to take Luke to visit Gregâs parents. They lived in country Victoria, about two hoursâ drive north of Melbourne. Iâd met them once or twice before and they were lovely people. But as I had never wanted to give them â or Greg â the wrong impression about our relationship, I had always steadfastly refused to visit them. I didnât see the point. But now with Luke in the picture â and with Greg so clearly proud to show off his son to them â I agreed to a day in the country. They were, after all, Lukeâs grandparents. They were the only family Luke had here in Australia. I figured I owed it to him to at least create a path for there to be a relationship between them further down the track.
Gregâs parents were perfectly lovely â excited to meet Luke and very kind with me. Greg could not have been more proud â he just wanted their unconditional approval. But while he now had a son and they were inextricably linked to this baby, so fluid were the relations between Greg and his mother and father, they seemed unsure about exactly how much they would let themselves become attached. Of course, Greg was oblivious to all of this. To his mind, the visit was an important step in the recasting of our relationship. He took the visit to mean I was ready, finally, to be the family Greg always believed we ought to have been. The truth
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