Sad Inheritance

Dear Old Dad was such a great guy, a cop, a civic leader, a “family man”. Truth is he hated his two daughters. I guess he just didn’t want kids or we just got on his nerves or something. I just remember him being mad all the time, beating us, yelling at us. I was scared to death of him. Once my stepmother and I had some words and I thought he was going to beat me to death, he told me if he had been on his deathbed he would have found a way to slap me. Guess we know who was most important in his life. I drove over to his work once when I was a teenager just to visit him at work, not to stay long, and instead of being happy to see me or introduce me to any coworkers, he throws a photograph across the desk at me. It was some dead guy that had been shot in the middle of the forehead. It freaked me out, I left and I never visited him at work again. I still don’t understand why he did that.
Well, eventually dear old Dad passed away. The wicked old stepmother is gone, she died of meanness. My mother is gone now. I don’t know what my sister tells her kids about dear old Dad. I don’t tell my child a damn thing about him. I think about him as little as possible. By the way, he didn’t bother leaving his children anything in his will, though we never stopped trying to have that good relationship with him, it was just something he wasn’t going to allow to happen. We just weren’t good enough.
So what kind of legacy did he leave? Nothing. The man that thought he was so damn great. Nobody outside of the family ever talks about him. Nobody inside the family ever talks about him. He isn’t missed.