Unfiltered Story #392076
My father and I have had a very up-and-down relationship over the years, especially just after my mother passed away. In short, he seems to expect me to be a clone of him; if I ever have a differing opinion, lifestyle choice, even HEALTH issues, he somehow either tries to “fix it” by bringing up things he’s done or tell me that I’m just being stubborn and intentionally being different just to “fight him.” There’s also only ever about a 1/10 chance of someone dragging an apology out of him, about that or anything else, with the rest of the time him expecting everyone to “just let it go” and “move on.”
About the only thing he never gave me grief about was coming out as bisexual and marrying another man; in fact he broke down in tears of happiness that I had found someone so good and loving that I was happy with. Unfortunately, shortly after that my husband came down with several serious conditions. The good news is that it’s not under control through medication thanks to Medicare; the bad news is that medication also makes him sleep about 12-16 hours a day, which makes finding and keeping a job very difficult, especially with only one car between us in the suburbs. I make enough money to take care of both of us, but only just barely, and every time our savings goes up some eventually some expense comes along that chops it back down.
My father, of course, acts like it’s still the 1950’s/1960’s when he was growing up, and that my husband should be able to “just get any job within walking distance.” The fact that we’re in a dense area, so any time a job opens up he COULD handle there’s about 50 applicants for 2 positions, is lost on him. The fact that trying to get Social Security Insurance (since he’s apparently “not disabled enough” for disability despite clearly meeting the criteria) has been an ongoing multi-year hassle that we’re now talking with legal aid about is obviously our fault for not being proactive enough. I have asked more times than I can remember to please stay out of our financial affairs, as it always, always, ALWAYS turns into a fight.
The final straw came earlier this year, the day after my birthday. I had not received card, email or phone call from them, and that marked an entire year where I had ever been the only one to initiate contact, including both my and my husband’s birthdays two years straight despite us making sure to contact them for every appropriate holiday and birthday, outside of his occasional forwarded humor or political emails and even then that was to a group. Slightly disgruntled, I called up, and of course he doesn’t apologize, just a half-joking, “Oh! Well, I suppose I should probably be saying happy birthday, then!”
I try to have a civil conversation without bringing up the constant disrespect, but about one minute into it, he turns the conversation around with “So, what’s going on with the finances?” Not even a subtle not or anything, literally asks me that. I tell him how we’re working with the lawyers to move onto the next step of SSI, my job still hasn’t given me a promotion or raise beyond base cost-of-living despite my years there, neither of us have had any luck with new jobs considering the fact that more places in our area are closing down than opening/expanding, etc. All the same as the last time, it hasn’t gotten worse but it hasn’t gotten better.
His response? “You know, I just don’t think you’re even trying to make it better.” And then goes on a tirade about how we’re “lazy”, how we’re “doing nothing but lying about everything,” and how “we just love being leeches.” Nevermind that we haven’t asked for one thin dime from him outside of asking for help with a MAJOR car issue a *decade* before, for which we helped out with his landscaping rather than him paying someone else for it so it wasn’t like we were just asking for hand-outs. I don’t ever recall screaming at him the way I did that day, not letting him get a word in edgewise, until my voice almost gave out and tears were pouring down my face. My last words were, “F*** you, don’t you DARE call me or email me again unless it’s to say ‘I’m Sorry’, and don’t expect anything from me until you do!” before I hung up.
A month later, no apologies. I did get included in the email group of a cute local story about a coyote. Once I can write about this without steaming like I am right now, his new wife and my new step-brother are going to have a mighty interesting email from me…
