My Future Father.

My sister and my mother talk of my father's future death casually. As though it has already come to pass and he is some distant relative we never knew.

I find it odd and disturbing.

The most recent context was discussion of a future Thankgiving: our [mine and my sister's] children would be present and we would tell stories of my father and impersonate him, so that the next generation would know him even if he wasn't there. They might become fondly familiar with the way he can grumble good naturedly about a dish that didn't make it to the table. The one he had set his heart on that particular year. They could even come to appreciate the carefully constructed, but playful manner in which he tells a joke; it is as though he is sharing a mischievous plot- one that could earn you entry rights to the speakeasy.

S

While this might seem warm and sentimental in a different time and place [say, at that particular table in the future], it's upsetting right now.  Upsetting to just hear your sister come out and say,
"Well, he's not going to be around in 30 years."
It's probably the truth but I'm sensitive, dammit. Idon't want to hear this.
I'm not terribly close to my father.

He seems to be quiet but he's not. He just doesn't always have something to say. He's a salesman, though and if necessary he can talk to anyone. There's a temper in there somewhere but it rarely comes out. He's likable and clever.

I don't know why we don't talk.
It isn't that we don't get along.  There is something missing there.  We are both awkward in a strange way. It isn't always immediately obvious yet it harms our familial relationships.  My sister and mother are chatty and open and my father and I are not.  We are fairly content to sit in the car together and say nothing.
So often I find that is what we do.

I worry that he'll die soon and the last meaningful conversation we will share will concern the car or the fridge or the weather.

Maybe I'm not likable and clever.
I wish he would tell me more stories.
I want to tell him more of mine.