He’s an asshole. Or he was. At 7 am central time, he died. Gone. Sleeping with the fishes. It’s supposed to be a good thing, after everything he did to my mom. Turns out that I’m not so sure anymore. I wanted my two cents.
You see, I never met him. My mother knew he was a poisonous person, so she kept me away from him. I have spoken to him on the phone, and he was always reasonable and polite, but my god, the things this man did. I don’t want to go into everything he did here, but I will give one example: Because of his creepy loving touch, my 21 year old cousin has spent the last seven years of her life in a mental institution in Massachussetts.
I put up a thread a few days ago about whether or not people thought it was ok to hate. I was thinking about it in the abstract then. Now I know why I was thinking about it. Because he is the only person I deeply and truly hate. It is probably a good thing I stayed away from him, because I would have killed him myself. Seriously. But now, I’m confused. The hate is still there, even though there is nothing to hate anymore.
Or maybe there is. The effects of his life are still in evidence, and nothing can change that. I don’t know. It’s fucked up. Right now, the biggest thing I am pissed about is that I was going to see Master and Commander this weekend, but now…now I gotta deal with this bullshit. God dammit.
Well, I won’t offer my condolences…but I will say hatred is a heavy burden. He can’t hurt anyone anymore, and carrying the hatred allows him to continue to dwell in your heart. Why give him that privilege?
The opposite of love is not hate, but apathy. He was a horrible man, but he’s gone. Don’t let his memory continue to affect your life.
Good riddance to bad rubbish…now work on moving on and helping those he hurt. And kudos to your mom for protecting you from his evil.
Strange coincidence. I found out this morning that an uncle of mine died yesterday in his sleep. This is the uncle that verbally and emotionally abused my aunt and their daughter, shot their dog and left its bled out body on the front porch for them to find, and a few other tasty tidbits.
So far, the only person I know of who’s upset by his death is my aunt. She was, after all, married to the man for 50 years. The rest of us have shrugged out shoulders. The world’s probably a better place without him in it.
Oh, no…We are creamating the son of a bitch. Give him a taste of the fires of hell. I asked to put twenty bucks in with him, so he had something to pay Charon with. Sadly, they said no.
County, he fucking died this morning. He tried to rape my mother when she was 14. Has your dead uncle tried to rape your mother? If so, then I’ll listen to that lovey-dovey-turn-the-other-cheek bullshit. He tried to rape my mom, for god sake! He put his 14 year old daughter in a mental institution for god sake. Forgiveness? I’m long past that. Judging him? I know the loser is in hell. That, and only that comforts me.
And here we go, with the post about people who only know 4 words raging even as we type:
I was sad when Grampa died. But not for my loss or that of my uncles. I was sad because he was unmourned.
Not sad for him, but sad that if I didn’t pay attention it could be that way for me.
The guy is a lesson for me in how not to be. Sounds like Uncle F is a pretty obvious case. Maybe he was sick & could have been … curbed … but now you get to live without him.
County and others do have a point, “He is dead and you are still carrying him around.” Your instinct is to want to hate, and it sounds like he had been a hateful person. But if he doesn’t bear forgiveness, forget him and pay attention to those he left behind.
No lovey-dovey. He was a bastard. You don’t have to like, or love him. I certainly wouldn’t. Fuck him.
This ain’t about him anymore, he is fucking dead, good riddance.
Now it is about you and what you do or don’t do. And I wouldn’t expect you to do anything today or tomorrow, but curse him, next week, next month, that’s a different story.
Mr. B., why would ya want to give him fare for Charon? Now, he gotta wander around the banks of Styx! That can’t be fun!
I’m on your side, actually- as a Christian, I find that “forgiveness” as popularly perceived is a highly overrated virtue. Let him get some harsh-ass Justice for a while.
and I’m saying this as someone who thinks perhaps that everyone will get back to God eventually- just that some will have a long hot painful journey.
Speaking strictly as someone who believes in the theraputic effects of “getting it out of your system”:
Rage, rant, rail at him here in the pit. Get yourself a punching bag, and beat the shit out of it, all the while calling him bad names. (But warm up first, or you’ll pull a muscle and end up more angry than when you started.) Get some pen and paper and write a long, vitriolic poison pen-pal letter to him, or do so in a LJ, if you want to do it by keyboard.
Don’t pretend it never happened, 'cause you know damned well it did.
Don’t let it fester. You’re pissed off anyway, at what the guy did. Don’t end up pissed at everyone else around you, snapping at everything that’s said or done, 'cause you’re suppressing rage at someone who you can’t really lay into.
Turn the other cheek apparently works for some folks. Some folks aren’t all folks. You don’t fall into that category, evidently. Makes you no lesser a person, in my eyes. Just means you’ve gotta find a different way to cope.
Hope some o’ that helps.
And I’m sorry you had to have something like this to deal with in the first place. Life can be a real bitch, some days.
(bolding mine).
This is a very important point, Mr. Babbington. Read it over and over again until it sinks in. My mother was not a good person (but I won’t go into details here. Suffice it to say that when someone says “when you grow up and have kids of your own, you’ll understand why your mother did the things she did” that I still don’t understand, though I’m 42 and mom of three children). Her death, 15 years ago, pulled me in so many directions. I was sad about her death. She was, after all, my mom. But I was also relieved. And then I felt guilty about being relieved. And then I questioned myself for feeling guilty. . .and on and on. Took me 2 years of therapy to deal with the whole mess. And the most important thing I learned was that forgiveness does not mean that it was okay for her to do the things she did. It simply means that she ruined enough years of my life. I don’t have to let her ruin the rest of it. I saw a sign recently, that I liked: We are products of our past, but we don’t have to be prisoners of it. Forgiving her was all about not being a prisoner of my past.
Rant and rave all you need to, but don’t give this dickhead more of your mental real estate than he deserves.
I don’t know what to say here. I wanted to ask who got the ashes and suggest something childish like swapping the ashes out with ashtray contents, emptying his remains into the crapper, dumping on them, and flushing him off to a treatment facility. But thats just immature posturing. You need to deal with his demon that’s been left in your mind. It won’t be until after you have totally freed yourself from it that all of him will be in hell burning.
My son’s father died seven years ago. I was pretty pissed off for what he did, not only to the women in his life, but to his children (nothing as bad as Uncle Fucker, but a bad guy nonetheless). I’m having a hard time letting go of the anger. Sometimes I’m OK and other times I’m pissed. I was with him when he died and I went to his funeral, but I don’t feel like he’s completely buried yet. It takes a while, but I feel like some day I’ll reconcile the anger I have and I’ll feel better.
Incidently, Uncle Fucker sounds like he was mentally ill. Did anyone approach the problem from that angle?