Three days ago was my dad's birthday. Or, you know, it would have been.
He would have turned 60 this year.
We celebrated by eating Klondike bars (his favorite) and I cried a little bit.
I think it's extra hard on me because I really don't have anyone to talk to about my dad. My brother and I are seriously and irretrievably estranged. Every time I talk to my mom about my dad it turns into a "wasn't he such a bastard" conversation. I mean, I can't blame her, he was the love of her life and he walked away from 18 years of marriage to screw around with a 24 year old hussy. That hussy (who subsequently became his bitch of a wife) is also someone I can't talk to about him.
Basically, she's a bitch. For those following along, here's the story of how she won't send me pictures of my dad. Now she won't give me the addresses of MY OWN family in New Jersey. She claims she doesn't have the addresses. And everybody moved this spring (which I didn't know either) so my old addresses won't work anymore.
It's really painful to never ever be able to think about my dad without having to think of all this crap, his adultery and abandonment of his family, his long illnesses, his sudden death, his bitch of a wife, her legal fight to keep any inheritance from my brother and I, and her continued refusal to acknowledge that we are indeed his children and should have some right to his things, like, oh, pictures of him with our children and some completely worthless (in a monetary sense) keepsakes.
So, I'm kind of depressed. Very depressed.
Very very.
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9 comments:
I am sorry you're feeling down today. Families can be the warmest and the coldest. Just make sure you hug your babies extra long tonight; feed off of their warmth and their love for you. And know that your dad's spirit is always with you.
I bet that one day, when the memories are not so rich in her mind, it'll be an easier task for the poo to put together a box for you.
I wish I had your optimism, but I really think I'm going to have to wait for the bitch to keel over to get any of my dad's things. And even then I'll have to pull rank on my little sister to do it.
I have no problem strong-arming a sibling though, luckily, even a halfsie.
I swear the only way to get that woman to talk to me is to skip a mortgage payment. :)
Which I won't do, of course.
I also toyed with the idea of posting a very unflattering picture of her on this blog, but I am too nice of a person, dammit.
I totally agree.
Though, it's not as if I was very close with her to begin with, I mean, see the above story about her being a homewrecking hussy...but still.
I think my dad should have foreseen that she would be a c*&^ about the inheritance. Sadly, I'll probably not forgive him for putting us through that crap, which wasn't really HIS fault but it is, since he married the skeeze.
Yeah, see SHE was the executor of the trust my dad set up and in that trust it was made flat out clear what we were to receive, YET, when my brother asked her about getting some momentos (my dad's bowling ball for Chrissakes) she told him "I'll let you know what you are entitled to"
"Entitled to"? Bitch! That's my father you're talking about! The real pain of it is that we just KNOW she's going to get remarried, like, as soon as decorum permits (she's "that way"). She took up with my dad while still married to her first husband. And it's not like Mr. New Rich Husband is going to enjoy the reminders of my dad being around, as in, his things, his jewelry, his college yearbooks, his wedding ring from when he was married to MY mom. But oh no, she won't give those things to his adult children. We're not "entitled" to them. Classy. All around classy.
Anyway....is that enough dirty laundry to air for one day??
jeez!
I totally understand missing your dad. Even if he made some poor choices. I'm really sorry for your loss. I'm thinking of you.
Thanks Elizabeth.
Somehow....
You always know....
Hmmm
Return of the doppleganger? perhaps?
I suppose my dad made some poor choices, but when he died, he was still married to my mom. So no psycho step-anythings there. It does make grieving a HECK of a lot easier.
My sister and I have only butted heads a couple of times on a couple of personal items of his. But not so much that we aren't speaking. On the contrary, I have a very warm, loving family all around. I feel very fortunate there.
They don't call them evil stepmothers for nothing. Sorry about all that Jessey. What a bitch.
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