My Dad

I got an e-mail from my dad this morning. Apparently yesterday was my little half brother’s birthday. I didn’t even remember to be honest, I knew it was sometime in September, but I didn’t remember when. When you’re not allowed to see your sibling for a few years eventually you just kind of give up on bothering to remember birthdays. If I were to send him a gift my evil ex-stepmother would just retaliate with a clipping from a newspaper outlining the latest weight loss trend, she’ll call me a fat ass and say I should try it. Like my sending him a gift was some kind of personal attack on her. That’s what she did last time when all I did was return some stuff of his she’d left at our house. She even mailed it to a friend of hers to get it post-marked from California so I’d open it and maybe not figure out who it was. Like hell if I’m that stupid, hello, I recognized her fucking handwriting.

Anyway, my dad is upset because the bitch wouldn’t let him see his son on his birthday. It breaks my heart that she’s doing this. She is a horrible, mentally abusive mother and my dad is in no way abusive. My dad loves his kids. He has made his share of mistakes. He was a drug dealer until I was about 12 years old, he took me on late night deals in parking lots on the wrong side of town, he fucked up. But he’s not doing that shit anymore. He did use drugs a little again right before and after the divorce but he quit, he knew he messed up, he admitted it to me. That woman could drive anyone to drugs, lol. It’s not that he was right, but to me what matters is that he knew he was screwing up and he got his life back on track.

If there’s one thing my dad was, it was a good father. I don’t agree with everything he did raising me even after he was off drugs. A lot of it though, I think was my evil ex-stemothers influence. He changed when he married her, and I think more than anything he was just following orders to make her happy. He used to just shush me and tell me to do what she says, he didn’t want to hear her yell. Ultimately her controlling attitude led to their divorce.

I’ve forgiven my dad for everything he did wrong involving me. I’ve gotten over it. Parents fuck up sometimes. No one is perfect. But at least he tried, at least he loved. I never felt loved by my step-mother. I felt despised, not trusted, envied. And to think that my little brother is being raised by this controlling woman kills me inside. I know all too well what kind of a person she is. She’s nothing but a deceitful bitch.

I know what my brother is missing out on. He’s missing out on the things I loved most about my childhood. He’s missing out on my dad taking him and a friend on trips to the science center in Oklahoma City, hotels with indoor swimming pools. He’s missing out on movies with dad and camping with dad. He’s missing out on my grandparents, my grandmother’s love, my grandfathers humor. Eggs over easy with toast and a Royal Crown Cola. 🙂 Walks in the park and ice cream before dinner. Jokes and tickles and games and toys.

I may not have had a happy little picture perfect childhood. My dad may not be perfect. That side of the family though, they’ve always been my favorite. They stick to each other through thick and thin. When my dad started going through drug treatment my grandma loved him and supported him and helped me deal with what was going on with him. When I refused to eat solid foods because of a fear of choking my grandmother never told me I was wrong, she never made me feel bad about it like my mom did. She gave me a cup of chicken broth and sent me on my way. When one of us falls apart we’re there to love each other and to help each other pick up the pieces. Unconditional love. The only thing my brother has right now is a mother who does nothing but kick you when you’re down. In her eyes if you can’t make A’s you’re stupid, if you’re fat you’re ugly. If you break a rule you can never be trusted, hell, even if you don’t break rules you can never be trusted.

I bitch a lot about my family. The bad parts seem to stand out more than the good sometimes. The bad parts hurt but there is a lot of good there and it breaks my heart that my dad can’t see his own son turn 5.

For the 5th or 6th time my dad is hiring a lawyer. There’s going to be yet another custody battle. I hope like hell he wins something.