So my dad is dying. Fitting with his life, it is in a way that manages to inconvenience and grieve those around him, while wasting the most amount of money possible.
He was so terrible today to the nurse and me. To the nurse so clearly trying her best to help him. To me, the only one who is visiting him every day, who flew thousands of miles and spent so much money to visit a father who quite honestly was a very shitty parent.
I cried afterward, and wondered what exactly we (his family) are getting so worked up over. I mean, when he’s gone, what am I going to miss about him? What, frankly, is anyone going to miss about him? The way he’d…occasionally share some sort of story about his childhood, if prodded? The way he’d enjoy losing his temper and taking out his frustration on whoever’s physically nearest, blaming them for his own mistakes?
I think more than anything, we’re going to miss the idea of him. Losing a father and a husband sounds like a terrible thing, and no one is completely evil. It’s only too easy however to see the bad in my father. A simple, angry, selfish man who could have so easily improved the lives of his children and wife. Deluded about his own intelligence and ability. Squandered huge sums of money on his own arrogance, money that could have made such a difference to others. My student loans for example. Weeks after I took those out, he threw away $30k on a toy for himself. My inability to pay off my student loans, as it happens, is a major reason I want (am going) to kill myself. And yet, in one afternoon, my father spent more on himself than the entirety of my loans that cause me so much grief.
I think of what my husband would be remembered for: his amazing generosity, kindness, consideration to others. Me, well, at least I volunteered a lot? Had a nice smile? People tell me I am kind, and that counts for something. Unfortunately, it’s not enough for me to want to keep at this life. It’s just too difficult for me, and I’m exhausted.
What will you be remembered for?
1 comment
Yeah it goes like that, my dad was a bastard who pretended to be a great guy very well. When my mom died he stopped pretending. At least your dad is dying, wish mine would so I could kill any idea of the great guy he pretended to be ever coming back.
I worked as a therapist for 8 years, changed lives, even saved a few. They will remember me, nobody else will unless I go postal, but I cant think of any group worth hating that much.