The more things change...

Wow, it's been a long time since I've updated this blog. I think I just got so wrapped up in dwelling on the past that I couldn't look towards the future. I stepped away, and now I'm ready to start spilling my guts again.

There's one person, who I don't even know, following this blog, so I'm not even sure why I bother. I suppose it's because there's so much in my head that I need to get out, and people don't want to necessarily read it. I've been more active on facebook, but there's so much stuff going on in my family that I want and need to talk about. My family has always been the kind of people that would not speak about their internal problems with anyone else, because they felt it was none of their business. I suppose they are right, but sometimes, you just need to say it. It makes it real, and often times, it makes it OK.

Far too much has happened in the past couple of years since I updated this thing, and I seriously doubt I'll take the time to go and catch it all up. After all, I'm mostly doing this for me, and I remember it all.


Today, I go see my father for probably the last time that he is alive. Tomorrow, he moves into hospice.

I spent a lot of time away from my family. We didn't always see eye to eye, I guess because I'm different in most ways than they are.

My mom, not my mom. My brothers, one step, one half. The merging of 2 families when I was just a year old gave me a mostly stable and normal childhood. My mom's family always treated me like an outsider though, so that's fun.

But my dad.

We were so very close when I was young. He was my everything. I was loved and spoiled.

Then I became a teenager. Then I met a man. Then things when to shit.

There was a lot of tears, yelling, and heartache, and I moved out at sixteen.

Fast forward through a false accusation, a trial, and many years of not speaking.

In 2007, the accident happened. My parents were there for me to help me plan the funerals. I don't think I could have done it without them. What a horrible way to reunite. Then they didn't even bother to show up for the funerals, and I don't think I will ever find a way to forgive them. Not one single member of my very large family showed up for the funerals of my husband and 6yr old daughter that they never got to meet.

I tried to work past it, but in the end, another falling out.

Fast forward a couple more years and here we are.

My mom and her side of the family still very much treat me like the kid they all got stuck with. My dad, I'm back to daddy's little girl, minus the spoiled.

We talk a lot, about everything. He tells me I'm fat, I tell him he's old and crazy. It's love. A weird, self esteem destroying kind of love, but what can I expect out of the youngest of 8 who was raised by a Russian Jew immigrant and her abusive German husband?

I look around my house this morning, and see it full of him. The drop-top secretaries desk that is an antique, that he bought for my birth mother. The 72-peice china set that fills that piece that he just HAD to have. His dog is currently in the corner looking pathetic as she stares at the cat's and wants to play.

Today, I go to Dallas to get the rest of his stuff. He moves into the hospice facility at 10am Monday morning. Losing him is going to destroy me. What am I supposed to do without my dad? So many years lost over my bad decisions. I am full of so much regret. We've talked about it, as much as we talk about anything, and there's forgiveness. My dad has a lot of faults, his ability to forgive however, is amazing. I put that man through HELL and back. And there he is today, still loving his daughter.

It's going to be really hard to not break down today. I want to look strong for him, but I worry that my appearing stronger than I really am appears as apathy. I know he knows, but it doesn't make it better.