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A Shameful Send-Off

I sold my house but it was going to be a couple of months before we would close.  Another Mothers’ Day had come and K**** and E* took me to lunch.  I got a card in the mail but it didn’t have a return address.  It was from B*****.  If I known it was from her, I wouldn’t have opened it.  That may sound harsh but this was a card from a child who hadn’t spoken to me in months and she signed it, “I love you.”  Yeah, I sure felt loved.
I didn’t get another card from J*** with a bunch of meaningless dribble written in it.  I emailed him and said “what, no Mothers’ Day card this year?  I’m hurt.”  I was kidding but he emailed back and said that he had looked a long time for one but couldn’t find one that he thought would be appropriate.  Was he kidding?  I’m sure he found a couple that were appropriate for his precious mama and his attachment.
There was a “temporary hearing” scheduled in S**** C******* at the end of the month.  I was hoping that everything could and would be finished before the hearing but I was dreading seeing J***.
He was still pushing me to let him know where I was going and what I was going to be doing.  I had asked him to come see me before I left and he said he would…but he wanted to know why.  I said…”so we can say goodbye.”  He said he didn’t want to say goodbye.  We were doing “the thing.”  The thing where he pretended to care and I pretended to believe him.
J*** asked me if I still prayed.  I told him it had been a long time since I had prayed.  God didn’t hear me anymore and if He did, the answer was still always “no.”
He said he prayed every night.  He said he prayed for me every night.  This is coming from a man who not only claimed to be God, but had always ridiculed me for my strong religious beliefs.
To most people, that would have probably meant something and they would have been grateful.  To me, it meant less than nothing. 
Had he prayed for me after he had cheated on me the first time?  Was he praying for me when his attachment was crawling into his bed every night?  When they were getting ready to try to have sex, what did he say…”hold on a minute, babe…I have to say a quick prayer for my wife?”
He was saying other things that surprised me.  He said he was “living with depression and an absence of hope or even motivation to be happy.”  WHAT?
He went on to say that the was “in trouble, mentally and emotionally…was smoking to the point of being suicidal and drinking too much…on his own, without company and no encouragement outside of his own selfish motivation.”
Then he said that it was ironic…about the drinking, since every bad thing he had done was due to his alcoholism.  He mentioned his mamas’ “terrorist activities” being due to her alcoholism.
NOW, he was confessing that he had a problem with alcohol?  NOW, he was acknowledging his mamas’ behavior and treatment?  NOW, he was admitting that his mama was an alcoholic?  NOW…thirty years too late?
I immediately asked him if he was trying to “play” me, since he had never exposed his soft underbelly to me in forty-one years.  He said he wasn’t.
He had never told me how he was feeling or what he was thinking.  Given his track record of being absolutely incapable of telling me the truth about anything, I filed that away with all the other lies he had told me.  He had comfortably lied to me for years because he didn’t respect me enough to tell me the truth.  It had become fascinating though, listening to him lie when I knew the truth.  The saddest thing is that he thought that I was still too stupid and too trusting to know that he was lying.
Not being educated didn’t mean that I only had half a brain nor did it mean that I hadn’t learned from his past duplicity.
I didn’t know what he wanted.  Maybe he wanted me to feel sorry for him and agree to have the court records sealed like he requested.  If he was so concerned about what the court records were going to say, he shouldn’t have committed adultery, again and again and again.
He had created his own storm and was now woefully crying “shit.  It’s raining.”  What did he want from me…an umbrella?
He wasn’t sorry about what he had done, but he was very, very sorry that he had gotten caught.
I had already told him that I wasn’t going to protect him or lie for him or hide the truth anymore.
K**** had asked me to “store” my furniture in F****** so that it would be easier on her when I died.  I told her that I was going to store it in N**** C*******, where I had stored things before.  I also told her that it would be the same when J*** died.  She would have to make the trip up to S**** C******* to go through his things.  She said “dad doesn’t have anything we want.”  It didn’t matter and it was really a moot point anyway….everything he had would go to his attachment.
I never promised her that I would store my things down there.  Everything was going with me and I was leaving F******.
It was moving day and I called K**** and E* to ask them if they wanted my plants and outdoor lawn furniture.  They came over to get it.  I guess it was clear then to K**** that I wasn’t going to store my furniture down there.  It went well until they got everything loaded into their truck.
Then K**** came into my kitchen and tore into me like a wild animal delivering the fatal blow to its prey.  She yelled “I asked you to do one fucking thing for me and you wouldn’t do it!”  She wasn’t though tearing me to pieces.
She literally screamed “I DIDN’T DO THIS TO YOU!  I DIDN’T DO THIS TO YOU!”  I thought she was going to shred her vocal chords and burst every blood vessel in her head.  I just stood there, listening, while she all but turned into R*** and my mama.  I was so accustomed to that kind of attack that by then, I guess I was just numb.  When she was finished, she slung my favorite saying at me….“I love you.”  Oh, yeah.  I sure felt loved…again.
E* popped his head in and casually said “okay, bye.”
One of the movers came in and asked me who that was.  I told him it was my daughter.  He said it was the most disrespectful thing he had ever witnessed.  He said everybody in the neighborhood heard her.  He gently put his hand on my shoulder, shook his head and walked out.
We got everything loaded and left.  It was late and I was tired but I wanted to get out of there.  I started driving and didn’t stop until the next day.

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