WARNING: Length is tremendous! Don’t tread lightly!
The following information was something I typed out to some friends sometime last October…
My mother divorced my biological dad when I was 2. The story goes that he was abusive to her (who knows if this is true or not – I have no one to corroborate this with and knowing my mother (the one who brooks no bullshit from anyone), it does seem highly unlikely, but a good excuse just the same) and the first time he tried in turn to take it out on me, she left. Permanently.
More shit ensued, but that was the initial gist and we ended up living with my grandparents. That’s where we were when she met [step]dad. Mom was 24 (I think) and he was 37, divorced himself and living with his sister. I know what mom saw in him… stability, a way out of her parent’s house, someone who would provide enough money that she didn’t have to work and could play softball all the time, never have to keep up with or answer to, and, unfortunately, because dad never had much of an education (he only got through school until the 6th grade) and wasn’t very smart/mature in emotional matters, she could boss him around with ease. He, for the first time in his life, had a hot young thang interested in him, so that was good enough, especially since she said she loved him. Plus, his tiny track record with women was terrible and this seemed like a miracle thrown in his lap. So all these things (sigh) came to pass and they married when I was four.
Well, things quickly devolved from such an auspicious start to almost shear hell to begin with. He wasn’t any fun for her. He had no other interests/hobbies. He acted like an old man already. He didn’t like sex (or didn’t want enough of it or didn’t do it right or didn’t something, God knows what, but it was a complaint pertaining to that). In other words, he wasn’t enough. So by the time I was 9, she’d begun an affair that ultimately lasted 2+ years. Eventually, she blatantly told dad about it and then followed it up with a “just deal” basically. Then, when she chose to end it, an admonishment that she “never wanted to hear about it again for the rest of their lives together, because it was over now.” You know, she wasn’t gonna pay for something that was all his fault anyway. Oh, and the reason she ended it with the other man? Not because she loved dad or didn’t want him hurt or decided it was wrong. Nope. Because the other guy was getting too possessive and wanted to leave his wife and marry her. She didn’t want that… so it was adios to him as well.
Dad refused to believe she’d ever cheated on him even after he’d met Russell on several occasions and been told flat out. Same way dad handles everything he doesn’t understand, by heaping on a huge case of denial. But anyway, back to the saga. Life sputtered on. Mom dictated every last detail. She decided they wouldn’t have sex anymore. Nor would they share a bed. She made the decision to have my aunt move in with us while I was still in junior high. Dad had no say. When we all moved to east Texas from Dallas after my freshman year, again, it was her show. (See, it was too dangerous living in the big city and between her and auntie, well, the decision was obvious – dad’s, as usual, only option was to go along.)
Once we landed in Mineola, she told him to get which job. I know for certain they haven’t “been” together at all in that time (and that’s since '82.) Mom went where she wanted, when she wanted. She picked our house. Remodeled (or she has been doing so now for well over the past 20 plus years) the house/acreage/whatever when/how she wanted with no consideration whatsoever for him. Never asked him how he felt or what he wanted. She played softball (up until 5 years ago) every weekend and mostly 4 nights a week, all lasting pretty much year ‘round, or at least from late February through about the friggin’ weekend before Christmas. Sometimes he was allowed to go, but mostly, he was made to stay home and catch up on chores, take care of their menagerie (that mom was always the instigator of – how many and what kind of animals despite anyone else’s opposition) and whatnot.
In the last few years since she’s had her own business (in place of softball), she’s told him when and where he’d work with her and for how long, no matter if he’d already worked that day and then had to work the next after a three hour one-way trip. Also, he’s been able to retire now for 4 years, but she won’t “let him” because when he’s around her too much, he gets on her nerves (plus, I’m sure the extra money is a factor and he’s way cheap labor on her end). So poor dad keeps toiling away at fucking Wal*Mart doing the job of lazy teenage boys in their stupid Lawn & Garden department.
In all fairness, I gotta throw in here my idiotic behavior towards dad when I was younger. When they first married, I saw him as a threat to taking away my beloved mother. (God, was I delusional or what!!!) As I grew older, I simply viewed him with my mother’s eyes (and yes, I was a somewhat gentler carbon copy – hanging my head in shame here, but it was the truth). I hated his intrusions on my life. He tattled to her, which I now understand as him trying to NOT incur her wrath. He infringed on what fun times we did have. You see, my mother only developed a sense of obligation and duty sporadically, usually cropping up when we were about to go on vacation (never, amazingly, when we were planning something important to her – like anything to do with playing softball). So, what would take place, once I was old enough to voice my opinion, was… she would plan for us to go somewhere (usually Missouri ugh) and I’d beg for him not to go. Now I wasn’t completely being a monster about this. My reasoning had to do with the fact that she bitched at him constantly and he would be miserable because of it. The whole atmosphere would erode into this black cloud of tension. Fun times, those vacations that she insisted he take… yep, ‘because he worked so hard and deserved one :rolleyes: and blah, blah, blah, never meaning a Goddamn word of it. Maybe it was just to hurt everyone else, who knows? But even back then, I understood that we’d have much less hassle overall if he simply didn’t go along. Alas, this would be the one moment she’d swoop in with banners flying, on her soapbox and PRONOUNCE, “that wouldn’t be right to treat your daddy that way.” Making her assholish behavior seem like my bad manners and her sainthood of martyrdom firmly laid out for the whole world to “ooh” and “aw” over. Grrr. Soooo again, we’d take off and instantly dad would do something wrong (like not turn fast enough), then she’d light into his ass (secretly making her warped and twisted self so unbelievably pleased and happy, I’m sure) and we’d have a love-filled grand ol’ time.
Well, that’s been the history almost their entire relationship and his and mine up to '96. The only thing that has since changed, was dad and I patching things up (and becoming best buds) since I first became sick (see above date). Other than that, things have pretty much continued on in the norm for them… she barked and he asked how high to jump. Then when dad had a stroke in '99, mom said it was because she got tired of telling him what/when to eat (the initial problem that caused it) so she just decided to stop and make him be responsible for his own death if that was what caused it. Nice, huh? That’s the pretty picture of their life in a nut shell (coconut?), and all kinds of other little things that just echoes all the shit I’ve already told y’all above (if anyone is still with me at this point – sorry it’s so long) and much, much more. And now folks, this brings us to what the fuck she’s done now.
So I’m talking to Sybler (in case I haven’t gotten around to letting you guys know about her nickname, this is it… an appropriate combination of Hitler and Sybil – who she most resembles almost daily in her behavior and those stupid fucking multiple personality splits she thrives on so much) the other day on the phone and just for back ground information, she hasn’t been real thrilled with me of late. I think because I’ve been too involved with the new job and haven’t recuperated fast enough or well enough to suit her time table. Anyway, she starts telling me another one of her “pronouncements”… things in her life are GOING TO CHANGE. You know the kind, with the TM trademark behind it. That kind of thing. Me, being the total diametrical opposite of her, offers complete support, even though I didn’t know what it was yet or how utterly horrible it was.
The following exchange is probably paraphrased terribly due to my poor memory:
Me; “Mom, whatever you need to do to be happy, I think you should.”
Her; “Well, it may be one of those types of changes that not everyone is going to like.”
Me; “But your life is your own. You shouldn’t have to worry about other people’s feeling, etc. outside the norm of common decency. Besides it’s not like there are many folks in our family, apart from me and Jaceson, who else are you going to offend?”
…silence…
I try again. “Truly mom, if you want to quit your business (which had been almost defunct up until the last couple of weeks or so), move to Wyoming or spend every last bit of your money on something frivolous like running a cattery, it’s really up to you and my only job is to make sure you’re happy and healthy. I mean, I think about the only thing you could do that we would need to discuss is if you decided to leave/divorce dad.”
Her; “Um…”
Now it’s time for silence on my end.
Finally I manage, “Are things that bad?”
Her, channeling her ultimate smartass, “It’s not like things were ever any good to begin with.”
Me, thinking no shit Sherlock, “Yes mom, but that’s how it’s ALWAYS been. I’m assuming something had to have happened or be drastic enough of a change for you to now decide differently than you did when you both had chances to find other partners, when your whole life was ahead of you. Back then, you couldn’t do that to daddy, didn’t want to see anything bad happen to him and felt you could live with it as it were. It wasn’t right, etc., etc., What’s made the difference finally?”
“Nothing. (OMfreakingG! Can you believe anyone would give THAT as a reason? Except maybe Henry the fucking XIII!) Just, LIFE IS TOO SHORT.”
And that was pretty much the entire conversation. Except, I did still offer support for her to be happy. Gag. Anyway, she said she’d let me know more later, but I gather dad has no clue, as is her usual MO until she wants to spring something on someone. Which makes me weep that anyone could decide something of this magnitude on their OWN with consulting their partner.
Now, here’s the dilemma… Probably, dad would be much better off, at least in the arena of no longer having to deal with her and her never ending bullshit. Of that much I am absolutely certain. However, he never sees anything wrong with his life unless she bitches him out, and then it’s only temporary. Ergo, he loves her in his own way and is, if nothing else, comfortable with his life as is. Possibly even content. So now that she’s used him so that she didn’t have to work, so she could run all over creation doing whatever the hell she pleased whenever she desired, spent his money on bazillions of fix-it-up schemes, fucked around on him on the side while he held down the fort, and mostly just run rough-shod over his feelings, wants, needs and family (it’s because of her that he sees none of his sisters and family or my step-brother(s))… she has picked when she’s through with him. Now that he is 67 fucking years old!
I don’t know if she’ll follow through with this. Perhaps for once, her quest to emulate John Wayne will come shining through and she’ll pull herself up by the old bootstraps and figure it ain’t the way to behave. I’m torn on whether that’d be good or not. I’ve been so unimaginably upset over this, that she could pull this shit NOW, that I really don’t know what to think. Can you guys help me out? Is this going to be better if it happens? Worse for dad, who’s oh-so-pitifully inept at taking care of himself? (See above part of post where he was living with his sister after his first divorce – ha has never lived on his own/alone.) I want to beat the absolute hell out of her for being so-all-consuming selfish all the ever lovin’ time. And of course, it goes without saying, that I bet my aunt is just crawled up her ass with the ever-present “yes maam” responses in her show of co-dependant support. Makes me sick. Makes me hate her more than usual. Makes me want to write her ass off and tell HER that I am disowning her sorry, pathetic loser bitchself. Makes me want to kill.
SIGH. I already know that no matter what, if she does go through with it, I’ll take care of dad either way. If he wants to stay in Mineola, I’ll get him set up in a place of his own and make sure all goes well. That he sees his friends and has his bowling. If he wants to come to Greenville, same thing. We can even get him transferred to this Wal*Mart. Even with us filing bankruptcy, I will take care of it so she won’t have to be involved at all or waste any of her precious “time.” God, I’m just beside myself with asking how can someone do this and be so fucking inhuman???
Regardless, that’s all I’ve got for the time being. We haven’t discussed it again and it’s been several days. Maybe she’ll forget it, like she does everything else when something new comes along to change her focus, (IE: wanting to go on a cruise or starting her own restaurant) or piss her off. I’m kinda praying for that, I think.
But until I know for sure, I would like to close once more with this…
I HATE HER FREAKIN’ GUTS!!
Thank you for listening to me rant.
That was then, this is now (props to S.E. Hinton)…
Now, as of tonight’s conversation (and I promise I’ll keep this part really short, or at least more so than the above), she’s made good on her threat. They are separating, according to her. She just dropped the bomb on him today, out of the clear blue. She doesn’t know how soon Dad’ll be out of the house (she said she hopes within the next couple of days) and has know idea of where he’ll be going or what he’ll be doing. And she doesn’t care. Not about his age. Not that he has no one close by. Not that he’s NEVER been able to take care of himself. Not that he has been completely (necessarily?) delusion to their whole relationship forever. Not that he’s poorly educated and can barely read. Not that he’s put up with all her shit and so much more. Not to fucking anything.
She even tried to tell me that there was no point in talking to him myself (thought I’d stir up trouble, I guess, or otherwise, just wanted to be the dick that she is) – even though, I just wanted to make sure he was all right for the moment and let him know that, despite how screwed-up everything in my life is and us being poorer than a church mouse, he can live here. Always. All he did was put on his best “normal” voice and just kept saying “ok”, but I know he has to be dazed and numb. God, help him please. And me too, that I don’t strangle her ass.
How could she!?!! He was good enough when she just wanted to stay her lazy ass at home the whole time I was in school (yep, I definitely needed her there to make cupcakes when I was 17) so she wouldn’t have to work. He was good enough to support her lifestyle choices and let her do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted (sorry, I know I keep saying that over and over). He was good enough to continue working for Wal*Mart past retirement age because that’s what she wanted. And he’s been good enough to do exactly as he’s told… feed her Goddamned four thousand animals, work for her company without much compensation, be bossed around, made to feel inferior and fun of, talked down to and told how to do every last little thing like he has no brain in his head or is 4 years of age. Oh, and doing without sex for all this time, I’m sure was his idea as well. Yep, he was good enough all right.
Can I just say again how much I fucking hate her? Or that I wish a meteor wipes her smug ass out? I so wish she was permanently out of my life. I want a divorce from HER! And, I swear to God, if she callously intentionally hurts and humiliates him, with nary a care, then this may indeed finally be the straw that broke the camel’s back. I will not tolerate her being mean to him just because she can. I won’t let her break him likes she broke me. The bitch.
God, I need to go break something. Like her freakin’ face.
And sadly, no, I don’t feel better. What the fuck is my poor dad going to do?
as I learned after too many disgusted conversations with my mother.