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And a very happy fuck you too…

My mother called to wish us a happy five year anniversary but she can never just have a nice little moment she always has to throw a lil something in there. My side of the family tends to be a glass half empty kinda bunch, not just empty more like the poke you in the eye so you can be as miserable as the rest of us.
I think her exact words were ” happy aniversary.
me”-awwhh thanx, how have you been”
Her- I’ve been home from work for the last two weeks, your father is getting bad, I don’t think he’s going to be around much longer”
My dad has been sick for awhile now and going down hill so it wasn’t a surprise, it’s just sometimes she has little tact.
I don’t really know how to deal with all this. I’m an adult, I should know how to deal with this but my relationship with my father has never been an awesome one. I use to laugh when I told people the shitty stories of my childhood thinking they were normal. Don’t get me wrong, my dad worked hard, we always had food on the table, we usually got the things we wanted. As I look back I know now that he was just fucking mad.
When I was little I use to roller skate outside all summer long, maybe that’s why I play roller derby now. One time I fell and scraped my knees, I was bleeding all over the place, you know like kids do. My father, who was not one for blood, instead of taking care of me or throwing out a kind word said, “good, let her bleed, she shouldn’t be doing that shit anyway” I’m still not not sure what shit I shouldn’t be doing, skating, falling, being a kid, what ever..
When I was about 10 I cracked my head open while riding, or I guess falling off my bike. My dad worked 2nd shift at Briggs and Stratton, he would call home every day to see how things were going. When my mom told him that I had to have stitches he came all the way home from work, screamed at me, screamed at my mom for letting me get hurt, and then threw my bike across the yard and told me I would never ride it again. And I never rode it again that summer.
When I was in high school I was working on a drawing on the living room floor in an attempt to be social. I was apparently being a bitchy teenager because he out of the blue told me that I was a bitch and that I was never going to get anywhere with art and that I should find something real to do. At least he was kinda right about that.
After I left the house I tried to forgive my parents for my shitty people skills and my lack of emotion  that they instilled in me. I learned how real families talk to each other and interact from my in-laws.

People change over time, and after my dad retired he wasn’t quite as blunt or mean but there’s part of me that just can’t get over all the shit we went though. It pisses me off that everything that is wrong with him now was self inflicted from years of smoking and drinking and not taking care of him self. Poor decisions accumulate over the years creating a boulder rolling down hill that will eventually pick up enough steam to catch up with you.

That first part was a draft I started a few days ago.

Today I got a text from my sister -in-law saying that my dad was in the hospital. I know I’m a state away but I’m always the last to know. At least she was kind enough to loop me in. I know I’m going to get that call, or god forbid that text, or worse yet and facebook message about how my father has lost his struggle and is now at peace or some bull shit. How do you go home and say goodbye to a parent? How do you look the other in the eye after the fact? Everyone treats me like I’m still a little girl who cant take the bad news. I think it will be hardest for me because I still have a little care left in me and a whole lot of good old catholic school guilt. 12 years of 10 commandments and turning the other cheek, love your mother and father and forgive those who trespass against you, blah blah. It’s hardest to forgive those who screwed you up the most.

The moral of the story is that I’m mixing a relaxation drink with vodka to put myself to bed and this whole story is going no where fast. You can piss people off by living or by dying but if you kick it you don’t have to listen to them bitch anymore.


2 responses to “And a very happy fuck you too…

  1. Dan ⋅

    Hey cousin’ I feel your pain. As I understand it, grandpa was not the best father either, which is why Mike left home at 17. Words of encouragement or the patience to show me the right way to do things were few and far between. When I graduated HS my dad said “Well, you made it” like it was a surprise. The important thing is to learn from the BS and dont repeat it with your own kids.

  2. Becca ⋅

    Awww Sharon hang in there. Its totally ok to feel how you do about your parents. I grew up with a mother who had a really strong personality and liked to put me down all time. It’s hard growing up not being able to be yourself and having to watch everything you said and did because you never knew what the reaction was going to be. I don’t think parents mean to be this way, I just think sometimes it’s all they know and how they were raised. You are doing things right though! You are learning from it and making yourself a better person! I’m sorry to hear your dad is sick. I lost my mom and I watched my husband lose both his parents and the only advice I can give is to have no regrets. Say what you need to say to your dad. Follow your heart. Im here if you need to talk!

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