When The Truth Really Hurts

August 14, 1995. I was 26 and married exactly a year. My one year anniversary present to me and my then husband was 2 red lines and ginormously painful boobs.

Pregnant. The first child and grandchild was on the way.

My mom was thrilled. My dad proceeded to have some sort of mid-life crisis. He ranted and raved and told me that I just aged him into a grandfather too quickly and he wasn’t ready for that. I was flabbergasted and horrified at how selfish my father was proving himself to be.

But wait. It got worse. Selfish doesn’t even begin to explain it.

He started having an affair with a woman…one of the secretaries…from his office who looks like Bozo the Clown. Red hair and a mask of make up. My mom found out because she walked into the room(in THEIR house) he was in where he was chatting with her on the phone and calling her Tinkerbell. The asshole.

Then, her friends started telling her that they had seen him out with another woman at various restaurants in the area, holding hands over the table and speaking intimately. She had bright red clown hair and a mask to go with it.

It was confirmed. My dad was a fuckwad asshole. And that woman was a slit.

This whore was married too. With two adult girl children. What a role model. She started tormenting my mom. Phone calls, driving through my parents huge circle driveway. Harassing her like the pathetic other woman that she was.

After about a year or so, it stopped. The stalking and harassing ended. And my dad went into counseling to find out why he chose to have this little thing with another woman.

He promised my mom and us kids that this was over and it would never happen again.

But it seems that affair…an emotional one, as my dad claims. It was the energizer bunny. Because today, almost 15 years later, our family found out that he lied and is still involved with her. I’m almost betting that, with all the years that have passed, this isn’t just emotional anymore. That’s WAY too gross a thought so let’s not go there.

I’m furious.

My mother just came home from the hospital. She had a massive heart attack with only 10% ejection fraction left on her heart. AND…a stroke. Which has made writing and memory difficult for her.

She has been through hell, my poor mommy. And now this?

My father hasn’t been very nice to my mother in years. He is a bitter, miserable man who has lumped my mom and her illness into one group and called it his scapegoat. She has become the very reason his life isn’t the way he wants it to be. Well, join the club buddy. Many of us are living a life that we hadn’t planned on. Get over yourself. This is MY mommy!

Every single time she has gone into the hospital, over the last decade or so, he is a nasty assmunch. He drips in evil sarcasm when he talks to her and the doctors. He has been unpleasant to be around. He…is a fuck. Yes, this is my dad.

I’ve had a strong feeling. For ages. That he hadn’t ended it with the red headed floozy. Seems I was right.

My mom is a wreck. And she needed this stress because she had nothing else to worry about while being housebound and trying to recover from all the trauma she has had.

I called my dad. I told him that if he didn’t end it with Randy. Yes, her name is Randy. That he would be dead to me. And he yelled at me and told me to not say things I would regret. Then, he screeched at me to mind my own fucking business. Seriously.

I’m not sure who hung up on whom.

I’m so fricking angry that I can’t even think.

I’ve had no respect for my dad for ages. I’ve thought him to be a weak and selfish man. He proved me right, yet again.

I wish my mom was healthy because then she could leave him. But for now, she is stuck with this piece of garbage that has done nothing but emotionally hurt her for years.

And my sister and I are stuck with a father who obviously doesn’t think much of his family because he keeps on choosing this disgusting, vile woman over his family.

It sucks. The truth? Yeah, it is a horrible life buzz kill when you find out that your parent or parents aren’t the people you had thought them to be when you were young.

The only thing I regret from my phone call to him is that I told him “I quit!”. Yeah, I work for my dad.

This whole situation sucks. On so many levels.