2003-07-29 - 7:03 p.m.
It sure was good to see you guys again.
This is what I keep writing as the greeting in an e-mail I am trying to write to my father and his wife. But after that first line the e-mail keeps going something like this. And surely I can’t send an e-mail like this. Or can I?
It sure was good to see you guys again. Even if it just was for an hour or so. I was sorry to see you go; I still have so much I wanted to tell you about, show you, I have stacks of pictures in my car from my trips over the last couple years, since the last time you were here. I wanted to show you how healthy I’ve become, how much I’ve added to my life because the last time you saw me I wasn’t eating and all I was doing was chain smoking and drinking beer until I passed out. And I was sad. So sad. I was devastated that last time, when I saw you, gratefully that time it was only for an hour, I didn’t want you to see me in that state with the hollow black void carved under each eye where the tears went to pool. So this time when you guys were coming here I was excited to see you. Because for once I felt whole, for the first time I can remember actually, I feel whole. I am healthy, wise and happy and I wanted to share that with you. I wanted you to see things. I wanted to talk to you, to listen to what has been going on in your life. I wanted to see your eyes, Dad, shine with pride like they used to.
But I guess you don’t really prioritize me any longer. I know I can easily come out there to see you. But the truth is that I HAVE been out there to see you and even then I am not prioritized, you both go on about your life and if you happen to have a spare moment when it isn’t your taco night or your TV night, when you aren’t going to acupuncture or running or working in your shop, you sit down for a moment with me, over a cup of coffee (that you apparently don’t drink anymore because your spiritual guru or whatever the fuck he is tells you it is bad for your energy) and talk to me. I remember one conversation pretty well, we were sitting on your deck in the morning. I was sad then too, just sitting there, lonely, lost. You came out and sat next to me and offered up as close to an apology as you could for having left me and my brother when we were teenagers. You didn’t apologize per se, as much as you just explained. Admitted that you had chosen your child bride over your family because it caused too many problems with her when you had to choose between us. Just like it was easier to give up life long, devoted vegetarianism because then she wouldn’t have to make two dinners every night. By the way, you make me sick to my stomach when I have to watch you eating a big hunk of meat. I know, you talked to your spiritual guru fuck head whatever about it and he said it was okay to eat meat as long as you are willing to pay the karmic price for it…seems to me you have a lot of karmic prices to pay someday, I wonder if you think about that. Oh, but I forgot, the thing with my brother and me isn’t something you have to pay for eventually because your spiritual guru piece of shit fucker said that any attachment to anything earthly, people included, is bad. But apparently that doesn’t include your wife, your new fucking children or your wife’s stupid Zone diet, bowl cut hair-do moving onto a golf course fake as shit and annoying as hell family…because you seem to be so far up their asses that not even all the laxatives in the world could dislodge you from their bowels you piece of shit asshole. Anyway, yeah, I could come see you, like I used to, but it really isn’t worth my time anymore because now I want to spend my travel time seeing people that actually care about seeing me. So for the last few years I let you come here. Every single time you came here I waited for you to call me, to see me. And you always did, maybe once. You’d come here for a couple weeks and gallivant all over with your fucking wife’s family and then call me for a hurried dinner a day before you were leaving. Then there was that one time, when I was trying to buy that ice cream shop that you actually spent a whole afternoon with me. You went to the shop with me and made a video of it, acting all serious because you were going to help me buy it. Then you let me spend over a month writing the business plan, meeting with lawyers, bankers, food reps and then, a day before closing, you decided it wasn’t such a good idea. But that’s another story, what I am trying to say is FUCK YOU. You come here only to see your wife’s family and I know it because I find it rather suspicious that the moment they moved to Colorado and into your back yard you guys never came around again. FUCK YOU. When you told me you were coming here this summer I actually got excited because it would only be me you could be coming to see. That made me happy. But then you sent me that e-mail, actually, your wife sent me that e-mail to ask me if I would be willing to babysit while you guys went to her CLASS REUNION FUCK YOU. So that was the reason you were coming here. So she could go to her class reunion and act all demure and proper with her perfect thighs and shy little voice and make people jealous because she has perfect little thighs, a rich husband so she doesn’t work, EVER SHE HASN’T WORKING SINCE SHE GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL AND YOU SCOOPED HER UP YOU FUCKER, two gorgeous little twins who cost nearly $50,000 to have because her uterus was too shriveled up and BARREN LIKE HER HEART to actually get pregnant on her own, and her stupid perfect thighs. BUT YOU GOT WRINKLES AROUND YOUR EYES DADDY STEALER, I SAW ‘EM AND I WAS LAUGHING MY ASS OFF INSIDE BECAUSE YOU GOT WRINKLES. Anyway….so yeah, I babysat your babies. And I had a really nice time with them. In my head I was telling them all about how sorry I felt for them because I know you will abandon them too, soon enough. Though, you are so fucking attached to that wife of yours that I can’t imagine you will leave her, but I know you will leave those children…somehow, already you’re getting more and more senile and maybe that is your way of escaping this batch of children, you couldn’t quite pull that off with me Z. and me because you were too young to be senile, but now you are OLD and can pull it off even if you have your child bride. You married that girl, thinking that you were safe, taking her far away from us. You managed to keep her childless for ten years, you were probably grateful she couldn’t have children weren’t you? But she kept going and finally she had her kids. And they are cute. And they are wonderful. And I feel really sad for them because you were a good dad, a great dad, until you left and I have a feeling you aren’t even going to give them ten years of your parenting. So all they will have is that wife of yours who calls all cats Mary (which is sometimes endearing to me when I am not hating her like I am now) and who doesn’t REALLY have a brain in her head. And it’s too bad because those kids have potential. I feel really lucky right now to have had the mother I have because those poor kids are going to have nothing. Well, the boy child might get out okay, he’s way cool. But the girl is going to turn out like her mother. She already has her clutches in you. She already has you under her thumb while the poor boy child just stands in the corner reading his magazines and being bossed around by the girl child. And, I wouldn’t have accepted payment that night, when I babysat, but you COULD HAVE FUCKING OFFERED ME SOMETHING. Instead you said, “Thanks Whippy, we sure are glad you got the opportunity to bond with the babies.” Opportunity my ass you fucker. I didn’t want to see the babies, I wanted to see you. You acted like my babysitting was some favor to ME. Oh, I forgot, you did call one other time while you were here, you left that message on my answering machine, “Hi Whippy, this is your Dad. We were just calling to tell you that we were meeting at the accountants this afternoon and we would love it if you would join us, maybe hang out for a little while and then maybe you could take the babies out and keep them occupied while Julie and I finish up some business.” Fuck you again. So where was I?
Oh yeah. It sure was nice to see you guys again.
And fuck you.|
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