Welcome to my world!

My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...

Saturday, October 1, 2011


Today, Deb and I saw some of our estranged, extended family.  It's been nearly a year since we've seen them.  I've seen four of them the couple times they've come to see The Daddler, but she hasn't seen any of them.  She was worried that the Emotional Vampire would be there.  Thankfully, she wasn't.

I told Deb it would be good to get closure.  That we should just hold our heads high and remember that we were doing this for Daddy.  And that Mother would be proud.  And extremely pissed at them.  Also, that they'd probably act like nothing had happened.

And I was right.  About the closure.  But it was impossible for them to act like nothing had happened.  Because Deb started crying.  Later, I accused her of being a puppet master.  She said her tears were genuine, but she did think about the fact that it was a smart political move.  She said the tides had turned.  And judging by the warm reception we received, I think she was right.  I worked it, too.  I took the opportunity to set the record straight on a few lies.  For example, that I did NOT call the police when EV attacked me in the emergency room.  That the nurse called security and that the Po Po just happened to be in the room next door.  And a few other things.

What I realized today was that they've never seen how much they hurt me.  I've been very strong and resolute when I've seen them.  Deb, on the other hand, showed them the effect their awful behavior had on her.  One aunt even apologized.  The one who said she was going to rip me to shreds when she saw me (she didn't).  I never got any apologies, but I don't care.  I'm glad Deb did.

With the exception of one aunt, everyone was very sweet to both of us.  This aunt just happens to be the homeopathic obsessive-compulsive one who had The D on the phone trying to spell the name of his new medicine.  The one on whom I unloaded.  By the way, she told everyone I'd cussed her out.  Which isn't true.  But they don't like her anyway.  She doesn't speak to two of her sisters-in-law, so it probably helped my standing in their eyes.  Daddy doesn't give a flying flip about her.  Her husband was there.  He's 88 years old and was wearing Bono glasses.  So funny.  They don't like him either because a) he's a yankee and b) he broke her wrist one time.  My cousin did a good job of impersonating him. 

We all had lunch together and had a nice, funny walk down memory lane.  And when we got home, sure enough, we felt better.  Somewhat vindicated.

It'll never be the same, and I'd be perfectly content if I never saw the EV again, but this was a good exercise.  In taking the high road.  Putting our damaged feelings aside for The Daddler's sake.  And consequently, it was very healing.  I guess that's why they call it closure.  A wound can't heal until it's closed.  And hopefully, one day, all that will be left is a faint scar.

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