My eyes still burn with the remembrence of tears.
Tomorrow is the anniversary of my mom's death and today, it felt as though I lost my last parent: my dad.
30 minutes after writing my last entry, I had an altering moment with him. I have been going through so much heartache in regards to him that I'm suprised I still have a heart at all. Him saying things such as how he's ashamed of me and telling Jamie's mom how we don't deserve our own apartment brought more hurt to me then any other man ever could. But I've been trying despretly to get through it. Relying on "He's not in a good place right now" and "He's not the same person" has coaxed me into believing things could get better.
Today things went from bad to worse.
I didn't see nor talk to my dad yesterday and frankly, I felt a little guilty for that. I really feel like I need to see him pretty much every day. So today, instead of being with Jamie during his last hours of work (he would be gone from 3-12), I call my dad and have him pick me up so I can spend some time with him. I get to my house and find a note in his hand writing that only says "Katie is spoiled and manipulative!" Before I gave my eyes a chance to well up with tears, I asked him what it was. "Oh I was just on the phone with Uncle Ted and just jotted down some notes." Oh so non-chalantly. I went into the living room, and cried just loud enough for him to know I was crying in case he wanted to come in and console me and explain further, but no such thing happened.
I went upstairs and immediatly called both Jamie and Tia. Jamie, being my ultimate defender, dismissed him as an "asshole" (and no matter how your father treats you, it never helps to hear someone refer to him in such context) and told me not to stress about it because it was hurting the baby. I don't blame him for this. He was only trying to do what he thought was best. Tia, the peace keeper, enlightened me on her conversation with dad the night before. It seems that my dad finds the state of my room and the fact that my laundry has been sitting in the basement undone for a month now a slap in the face. I own up to these things. My room is a disastor and I really have been meaning to get to my laundry but my life has just been so consumed by school work and wedding that I haven't had time to do so. But honest, I was going to. Anyway, I understand that angle that he's coming from. I should keep the upkeep of my belongings in better order. The thing I DON'T understand is the way he's handling it. Having things not clean enough for his standards is in no means an excuse for him to talk about me in such a painful hurtful way. His words felt like they were pushing pins into my heart slowly.
After getting off the phone with Tia, I cleaned up my stuff in the bathroom hoping to please my dad more, but I couldn't help but take breaks to burst into hysterical crying and pound on the ground. I called Maria and arranged for me a ride to work and went downstairs and sorted out my laundry. Literally like, 5 minutes before my ride got there, my dad demands to talk to me in the kitchen. I tell him "Dad I have to go to work and I don't want to get into this." Because I had JUST calmed myself and did my makeup and disguised my heartbreak. He sits me down and in his usual "lecture I'm Right You're Wrong" tone, he says "I was talking to Uncle Ted about you and he said you were spoiled and manipulative and I wrote it down because you ARE spoiled and manipulative. You don't appreciate anything I do for you." And without letting me get a word in, he went on with his sermon discussing how "Manipulative, selfish, and spoiled I am". I told him that I would come and clean my room the next day and that he never has to see me in the house again. It probably wasn't the right way to reply, but I felt completly backed into a corner. He said "Yeah thats the right way to deal with it." I left for work, yet again a crying mess.
At work, seeing as in the car Maria crushed any shred of hope that I could try and get beyond this for the night, I was yet again a crying mess and they sent me home.
So here I am, at Tias, feeling deserted by my own father.
Sure, he supports me FINANCIALLY, but in the last year, I can't tell you of any time where I went even a WEEK without feeling uncared for by him. These are supposed to be some of the most happy days of my life and instead, he is making them some of the saddest.
How I miss my mom.
How I miss her soft skin and her laugh.
How I miss how she always cared what I had to say and encouraged me in almost everything that I did.
How I miss how she had a little shred of rebel in her that gave her such spirit.
I miss how she'd hold me and how she'd call me kitten and how she never really liked any of the guys I brought home because I was the most precious of her children and none of them she found good enough for me.
I'm starting to think that no one had a better mom then I do. I can't believe that I have to go the rest of my life without a mother. I thought I could rely on my father, but I can't.
On the anniversary of my mother's death, it feels like I am losing her all over again.