so, yeah, my father died march 8th.
not exactly sure what to say about that. there's been so much that has happened since that i almost fall over just thinking about where to start.
summary: he raped me as a girl, i couldn't stand all the 'soooo sorry to hear about your sainted father' crap, nearly everyone wants some of the NON-money he might have left, my probably-not half-sister wants to become facebook buds, and every single day i've been dealing with family secrets i never wanted to know, being a therapist for the few people worth talking to, telling the rest to fuck off, and managing the details of disposing of the remains. people are sending me BOXES of pictures of a man i swore i never wanted to see again fourteen years ago, while i'm chasing down a $500 watch he was wearing when he was found so it can be sent to someone else. there really is not likely to be any money left at all, but i'm having people i've never metcalling me, wanting to be my best friend, forgetting their part, threatening me, finally hanging up, other batshit familytrying to just move IN to his trailer like there's no transferral of title needed or whatever, detailed paperwork telling me what exactly they did with each part of his body (i chose full-body donation) but no ashes to scatter and no death certificates yet, people like the cable company refusing to shut off his cable unless i bring ina certificate–which would mean flying 3k miles, and then they'd probably want me to pay his outstanding balance, and his bank's already got abalance of -$291, which they are bitching about…
i'm bloody TIRED. i hadn't realised i'd been handling all this for nearly a month now. i couldn't figure out why i just randomly kept bursting into tears until my husband pointed out that i've been On for weeks trying to do The Right Thing for someone that wasn't ever worth a damn. trying to do The Right Thing and listen to the filthy truths and be comforting and sympathetic to my great-uncle and my mother. and somehow managing it better than anybody else. i have a quick cry, and i man (woman) up and get back to it. and it's wearing me to bits.
so today i am 30 again. (retro-aging, you can't beat it. i figure i'll go back to 28-25, and then just stay there for a while.) maybe in a few hours i'll even get some sleep and possibly even have interesting dreams. at least i've got friends and my husband and parents that mean well even if they've got the worst stories to tell and the worst taste in birthday presents. heh.
just have to keep fighting…they knock you down, you get right up and keep on doing so…life hasn't beaten me yet and i don't intend to allow it to. i'm thirty again today. shoes.