I’ve started and stopped two or three entries today because I’m really not in a good place…
But I know the only way I can truly get relief is to spew. So, you’ve been forewarned…
I am NOT in a good place.
Fourteen years ago, my father packed up two boxes of my mothers things to send to me and left them by the front door.
For two years, I asked him constantly (weekly) to send them, even offering to pay for shipping.
I asked his wife to send them. Her response was that it was my father’s responsibility.
Two years later I was finding out a lot of things that my father and his wife were doing/saying that were beyond wrong.
My husband enclosed a letter with the Christmas gifts we sent for my daughter and half-brother stating his feelings about what was going on.
The letter wasn’t meant for the children to see or hear, it was for my father, and addressed only to him.
My daughter and half-brother were almost six at the time.
When the package arrived she read the letter out loud to the children and then told them “there’s some presents here if you want them.”
…they didn’t.
How do I know this? Right before we quit speaking my father told me that’s what happened.
The boxes that were to be sent to me containing my mother’s things were moved to the attic.
Not only was I cast aside as his child (which had actually already happened I just didn’t know it), but he quit being a grandfather to Boo as well.
Suddenly “Papa Bud” was no more.
Try explaining that to a small boy.
Fast forward twelve years and Boo and his sister have a nice relationship, Keylime is working on having one with her. My father’s wife and I are Facebook friends, and though we’re not FB friends, I message my daughter from time to time.
Occasionally she responds.
In October I asked my father’s wife about some of my mother’s photo albums. She said they were in the boxes.
I asked for them and again offered to pay for shipping.
I messaged every time I saw that she was on FB playing one of her games.
Eventually, I was told through my daughter to Boo that they were in the attic behind the Christmas decorations.
I explained to my father’s wife that when I’m speaking to her I would appreciate an answer from her…
I didn’t want my kids involved.
She was all “Oops, I thought you and E were FB friends…”
I messaged my father’s wife a few weeks ago because I don’t want her to forget.
I never got a response which honestly is nothing new.
Many of the messages I’ve sent her have gotten no response.
About a week ago my brother sent a mass text.
I was one of the recipients. My father was another.
Today I used that number and texted my father asking about the boxes.
Was I polite? Yes.
Was I warm? No.
In all this time has there been any communication between my father and I?
Only accidentally when he answered my grandfather’s phone over the summer.
I was straight and to the point.
This afternoon Boo got a text from his sister about what to tell his “mother”…
And suddenly my father who used to work on computers is computer illiterate.
Not only that, but text illiterate as well.
Their excuse is that they’re all very tired and it’s such a hassle…
I’m sorry.
I didn’t realize that being exhausted was confined to them.
Maybe if they’d used the energy it took to put those boxes in the attic to instead put them in the mail things would be different.
I’ve been waiting fourteen years…THAT is exhausting.




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