Today’s my brothers birthday. Today’s my ex husband’s birthday too. Oh and my dog who passed away 10 years ago in October.
August 7th was always this date in my head that just was in bold. I’m the only one in my household who wasn’t born in August. So it’s also always been a busy month.
My mom’s birthday is on the 1st. My dad’s is on the 26th.
My dad’s death anniversary is on the 17th. It’ll be the 4th year without him.
I have a mess of thoughts and emotions when it comes to August and my dad. Then it branches out into my mom. And I just get insanely angry. My dad struggled with cancer for 8 yearrs. It was a slow progression, for sure. By the time I left home he still hadn’t lost his hair, he was doing radiation therapy and he was mostly fine. It wasn’t until a few years later that it started to rapidly get to work. I wasn’t there to see his decline and I guess I should be thankful for that. But I also was completely unaware of how bad it had got. So to me, it feels like he just died over night. Like one day I was Facetiming him with Tums. The next he called me but his words were slurred and a little spacey. I figured it was just because he might had been tired from treatments. And the next… he was gone. Just… gone.
My mom told me there wasn’t going to be a funeral. There was no reason for me to come home. My mom hated my dad my whole life, so you never knew what’s true when it comes to her regarding my dad. And it’s such a one sided strange hate she has for him. It wasn’t until the day OF the funeral her ass sends me a text saying “your dad’s funeral is in a few hours”. I woke up to that text. I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about and I went off. How dare you tell me there was going to be no funeral just to tell me there is? Are you fuckin kidding me?
She took away every single fuckin chance I had to say goodbye to my dad. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.
I’ve never forgiven her for it. I don’t think I ever will. That’s a level of resentment towards her I will never forget. I will never try to make right because it’s not right, it’s the most fucked up thing you can do to your child. But hey, do you. Keep playing victim about everything. My dad has never once hit me. Never once yelled at me even. My entire life. I was a daddy’s girl who got away with almost every thing.
When my dad bought his truck he told me to pick a color. I said red. He drove that truck until he couldn’t drive anymore.
Now that I think of it, I don’t think I saw it last time I was home? I don’t even want to ask. So when my baby daddy asked me if I ever got my own car when color would I want it, I said red. So he got me a red Acura RDX (but that’s a story for a different post).
My dad loved my daughter. It was the most emotion I’ve ever really seen from him my entire life. The joy in his voice. How often he’d ask how she was doing, if I could send him pictures of her every day. Where my mom made me feel like I fucked up for getting pregnant, my dad was happy she was here. He spoiled her for as long as he could. He wanted her to be safe. Always. I will always hate he never got to meet her. We were 2 months away when he passed. I’m confident he would had loved Winnie just as much. I wish he was here to tell that Tums likes to sing, she likes Disney like me, she likes playing video games. But I can’t. But I never will get to. And that shit sucks.
In case you’re wondering at any point this month — no I’m not okay.
And to expect me to be is just insane and you should probably just stay out of my way. Thanks.