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Ugly Trickster: Recap of 90DF The Other Way, S02E20

Welcome to another (delayed) recap of The Other Way: The Endless Season, with drifting plot lines guiding us down the primrose path of hasty divorce.
Sumit and Jenny are readying for a trip to Delhi to meet a lawyer, which is part of the long, arduous road Sumit has arranged to avoid a second marriage.
“Have you considered remaining married?” Brittany has ideas.
“Yes, but that is good for two or three years, maximum,” Sumit is way ahead of her.
“I took his virginity!” Yes, Jenny, we know.
Jenny says hey, since we’re going to be in Delhi anyway, might as well get that marriage registration out of the way, amirite? I mean, think of the COVID. Sumit freezes, hunts for a relationship traffic cone, and settles on the lawyer as the only possible person to answer this question. They meet said lawyer sporting PPE that makes every stateside ER doc wipe fat tears from the edges of their microwaved masks. Lawyer says that there’s a long, impossible option for marriage, and a fast, easy option that is the most common choice for crazy kids in love. Sumit interrupts and says, “I clearly asked for most difficult road only. Now I must use my parents as an excuse again. Thank you very much, I will not be paying this bill unless you allow Jenny to drone on about whatever she chooses until all government offices are closed for the day.”
Jenny’s why? tank is running low, but she still has enough reserves to believe that Sumit was simply ignorant of this simple option, and now that they’ve learned of it there’s nothing but green lights. Meanwhile, Sumit gazes at the horizon for a rescue from Clint Eastwood, and comes up dry, so he tells Jenny that he just needs to talk to his parents for the 10,000 time, to give them the 10,000 time to call the whole thing bullshit. Then he will try for 10,001.
Remember that why? tank of Jenny’s? It’s down to fumes, because Jenny strongly objects to this, since the parental reaction couldn’t be more clear if billboards were involved. She calls daughter Christina and her daughter-in-law Jen to check in, and while Christina is overjoyed about the upcoming ring ceremony, she’s unhappy that Jenny is going to be exposed to Sumit’s family. The whole time, Jen is Jen, sitting there all stoic and right about things, and somehow refraining from judgement. Christine is worried that Sumit will see his mom and get upset, and Jen’s brow makes waves and she says, “That’s what makes me nervous for you.”
(Now recording Jen’s voice to talk me out of things.)
“This time, we’d better get married,” Jenny demands. “Otherwise, I’m going to have to leave the country, collect my 90DF check, and come right back here all over again.”
“All of this is like that one movie where the small boy emails a woman and says we poop back and forth, forever, and it is romantic,” Sumit chimes in. “Me and Jenny also poop and poop. That is what we are.”
As a stepping stone to the parents’ inevitable rejection, Sumit invites his brother Amit and sis-in-law Shree over to their apartment. They apparently got hitched at the height of COVID social distancing, and therefore got married with only about 50 people in attendance. In the US of A this would be a super-spreader event with a 50-person body count, and 25 of those 50 people insisting they’re not really dead. In India, they just wore masks.
Jenny was not among those 50 people, because the family can’t stop dissing her, but Sumit went, and this is why Jenny can do without these occasions. Jenny is fully aware that his family will never look at their relationship the way they look at Amit and Shree, and she feels it. Despite their participation in a show CALLED 90 DAY FIANCE, Shree and Amit are shocked to learn Jenny and Sumit have a ring ceremony scheduled. Shree hides her smirk behind her hands, and this is a violation of the Smirker’s Code of Ethics, and that’s going to be a $500 fine. It’s perfectly acceptable to talk shit about what the editors have chosen to show us from the unsafe space of Reddit, but it’s tacky as shit to be catty and immature when a person is sitting right in front of you, asking for your acceptance.
Amit admits they didn’t expect their relationship to last this long, and insists the parents will never accept the marriage, as in ever, and Sumit should be ready for the consequences. Jenny breaks down, because she’s sick of this shit, and Sharee and Amit are shocked to discover she’s a person. She says it’s just a fact that they love each other, and Sumit comforts her while she cries, and these fools should be happy Jenny’s not promising his mom that her lonely ghost egg will be successfully fertilized.
In Whybother, Ethiopia, Ari and her teenage son Biniyam are preparing for a day with Ari’s parents. Ari can’t find the leash-backpack she borrowed from Nicole, so who knows where Biniyam will wander off to next. The good doctor assumes they’ll be taking a wild adventure to an indoor shopping mall, where maybe they’ll look at linens on sale at Macy’s, before stopping at an Orange Julius and getting their ears pierced at Claire’s. In anticipation they bring a large, cumbersome stroller. The decision to take it off-road clearly surprised the camera crew, who opted to zoom in on the wheels struggling over rocks. Good try folks, but as someone who hikes on a regular basis, I can assure you that there’s no terrain that someone won’t bring a stroller on, even if it’s a six inch rope bridge stretched across a gaping canyon.
The taxi takes them on an adventure through barbed wire, which Janice is eager to point out are houses. This will be in part five of her master’s thesis: Ethiopia, and Why This Isn’t The Best Place for Ari and the Baby. The doc admits he doesn’t travel much, and is only used to homes looking that way when they have a pitbull in the driveway, several warning signs about how you’re being recorded, and a shouted announcement that the occupant is more than willing to shoot to kill and hide the body under a pile of leaves, if need be. The doc wants to be that guy, deep inside his private place.
“Are you also looking for Clint Eastwood?” Sumit needs friends.
Once at the market, the 90DF producers slip Biniyam a Benjamin to orchestrate a circus scene involving the gruesome death of a chicken. There hasn’t been any gore since the last street side hack job, so Biniyam makes an effort to wow the doctor with a little pre-decapitation poultry inspection. Janice is too fast, and says they should do something else.
“I only approve of Ari sacrificing a chicken if it makes them less poor,” Janice plainly states.
Biniyam is embarrassed that his plan to watch the life leak out of a chicken is thwarted, because dragging around a chicken carcass like a bleeding dolly is the cultural experience he really wants them to have. Instead they’re left standing in the middle of the road doing their own clucking, as the elder folk dissect the dynamics of Ari and Biniyam’s relationship amongst the poors. Ari insists that until he eats from the silver spoon she was born holding in her mouth, he won’t understand what she’s about. I’m not sure what this has to do with Biniyam’s perpetual disappearing act, but maybe that act is his real job in entertainment, and he should receive an invisible check any day now. Either way, this street-side conversation can be summarized as: Ari is supposed to adapt to a new culture, religion, and support system, but Biniyam can’t be expected to tell her where he’s going. Okay then.
Father Ari is sick of standing on a dirt road worrying about being part of a crime scene, so he says it’s time for the baby to get home, and Avi probably should take a nap, too.
“I’m sick of being dignified,” Doc is out of fucks to give. “Look at this dipshit. He may not have a fuckload of cologne on, but he’s thinking about it. I bet $100 he owns pants with snaps up and down the sides that he rips off his body. No, I don’t want to see it.”
The parents go to visit Biniyam and Ari’s apartment, so they can be disappointed that Ari has failed to not be poor in fresh new ways, while wheeling two massive suitcases packed fat with every baby item on Ari’s Amazon wish list.
“I know you didn’t take a lot of clothes, since most of them are still at our house,” Janice passive-aggressives like a fucking champion. “Remember that three suitcases humble-brag you did at the start of the season? I know how many suitcases there really are, Ari.”
Janice insists that it’s time to move on to a bigger place, since once they unload both Mary Poppins’ bags of baby gear there won’t be room for them, let alone the nanny they crammed into the zipped shoe compartment. Housing apparently just happens on command in her world. Ari reports that expats have driven up the price of apartments, and she’s pretending to care about such things, and Janice says they could help out if they knew how much money they had.
“How much money do you make?” They get right in there.
“Sometimes there is money, and other times there is a little bit of money,” Biniyam is ready with the answers. “It depends how many people want lap dances, and how many want regular dances.”
“You should have some kind of stable income,” says the man who raised a daughter who describes herself as a FREELANCE WRITER.
“I work like 47 different clubs five days a week, and I can’t work six, because I need two days to listen to Ari say she needs help with the baby repeatedly.”
“Sometimes, artists don’t make much money,” explains Ari, who is an accountant when she’s not a FREELANCE WRITER. “I mean, most artists in the US of A rent a storage unit and sleep on a foam pad on a concrete floor, and change their name to Binkirk to avoid a tidal wave of mail from Sallie Mae. Really, your only hope is becoming Banksy. Or you could have my parents.”
Before they return to USA, Ari’s fam wants to meet the Biniyam clan to better understand why he’s like this, and for some reason Ari thinks this will put her family at ease. Good ol’ sis Wish, the anti-Teayang, is going to make short work of that expectation, and when Janice asks about their relationship Wish pipes in with a report that Ari gets mad fast. Like when she innocently pointed out that he met his last wife at the club where he works, for example. Wish says it’s weird for a woman to shout at a man, and in Ethiopia you go to his parents to talk with them.
“She wants to act bossy,” Biniyam agrees, because he stands in fully support of the your-fault, your-fault, your-fault chant from the Handmaid’s Tale.
Ari disputes the idea that this is about being bossy, and is more about how her life is going in Ethiopia. “My whole life is different and his life hasn’t changed much.” K, these are facts.
“You need to calm down.” I don’t even know this other sister’s name, but she is not a friendly.
“She treats him like a child,” says Wish, who LITERALLY NICKNAMED HIM BABY.
Ari’s mom brings up baptism to the team, and says that she was raised Christian and had a hard time with whether or not to baptize Ari after she was born. Family Biniyam says it really wasn’t that hard for them, they just talked about it constantly until Ari folded.
Ari sees this baptism as just a party and water, but Janice is quick to point out that when you’re baptized, you’re also baptized into that faith. The Good Doctor believes she’s being pressured into this, because she is, and says he’s teetering on the brink of being upset, which he’s pretty sure means he needs to get a shotgun and a rocking chair for his porch. Ari says Biniyam came to her crying, which played a huge role in her decision, and his family was the true source of pressure, and they agree with this.
“A baby must be baptized,” They are unmoved. “If you’re not baptized, you’re going straight to hell.”
“If I catch you doing that, it’s one of the reasons I will leave,” Ari retorts, finally working out her exit strategy.
“You remind me of his ex,” Wish believes no blow is too low. “This could not possibly be because he treats you the same way.”
“You’re going to let your sisters talk to me like that?” Oh Ari. It’s cute when you think “Baby” is a grown up.
Janice says it seems very one-sided, and like their whole world is arranged around Biniyam...because it is.
Brittany will play the part of drunken cliche with a sober friend, and there’s a reason why this scene never plays out in romantic comedies. Since she can’t find a lampshade to put on her head, Brittany does the robot like she needs to go back to the factory, and Angela can’t get this chick to reboot. Yazan arrives and knows Brittany is drunk, because she’s making fun of his driving before he has the chance to blame a second car accident on her, so he sobers her up with a boring trip to his barbershop. Brittany threatens to give him an inebriated haircut, which he somehow thwarts, but not before minor scissors injury.
Angela is wondering why she’s been listening to Brittany bitch for six months, since she’s now flirting and play-fighting wtih Yazan, so she suggests they might want to have a more serious conversation. Brittany can’t hear her, because she’s still celebrating successfully flipping the script away from her sudden disappearance, to the non-specific “actions” Brittany wants to see. Apparently, starting your own barbershop, buying a car, and getting an apartment don’t count as actions.
The next day Angela points out that Yazan is the opposite of what Brittany has described, so he’s either acting or Brittany is. Then Brittany heads over to the apartment he’s gotten for them to share, and they bond over wishing kitchens were chickens, and the finer points of shower curtains. Yazan reports there’s a second room for Brittany, and when Britt insists she likes to cuddle, Yazan declares if she wants it then she’s gotta put a ring on it.
“I can’t even do the robot, and now I’m supposed to do something Beyoncé? I’m gonna give him an ultimatum,” Brittany knows this can’t stand.
This marks the beginning of their Absurd-Off:
Britt: I’ll move in when the bathroom is fixed, because I can’t stand a wet bathroom floor, and towels haven’t been invented yet.
Yazan: I cannot have a girlfriend, because it will make God angry. I know this, because I have a girlfriend, and God is furious.
This is a tight race folks, so we’re going to have to call it a draw.
Since they’re having an actual conversation, Britt asks for for an honest answer to the conversion question, and Yazan says it’s whatever, that’s his family’s hang up, not Islam. All the same, he’d like to get married in a month. Britt says she has to think about it because it’s so soon, and she’s scared she won’t come up with more conditions by then. Yazan says it’s dangerous, and he wants to detail what he means by that, but he’s going to need a translator so all the fucks and shits get through. Britt agrees that’s a good idea, and suddenly seems curious to know why Yazan hasn’t slept in six years.
Sure, the 90DF producers could have given us more Kenny and Armando to sweeten all this sour, but why do that when they can follow around a doomed couple having the same limp conversation 400 different ways? For a year.
Cheese and Mama Cheese are going out for coffee to flex his Spanish vocabulary, and demonstrate that he’s capable of the most important phrase in any language: two coffees with milk (of course he gets milk). Cheese lets that Spanish flow, and his accento is muy what you’d expecto, but he’s trying. Mama Cheese thinks everyone makes mistakes, and sometimes you trip and fall into a coworker’s vagina. Cheese says he’s working hard to be working hard on this work that’s hardly working, but now that he knows she experienced non-dairy loving during their breakup, he’s having second thoughts.
Cheese and his mom both start to get upset, because Tim doesn’t really have a team rooting for him on the ground in Columbia, and Mama Cheese reminds him that she’s always there for him, whether he’s getting over Melyza or truly moving to Columbia with no take-backs. A little while later Melyza and Tim take Robin and Carmen to the airport, and he’s sad to see them go, and Melyza comforts him.
They decide to go to a couple’s counselor, since last time it worked so well they’re still talking to a counselor a year later. Before they go in we’re gifted a short scene of a dude performing tricks on a tight rope, and you should cling to this moment, because it will be the most entertaining part of their story. The shade of Cheese’s shirt clashes next to the shade of Melyza’s personality, but the therapist agrees to see them anyway. Cheese admits that he’s considering returning to the states to work, and Melyza is shocked, which she communicates through her mouth dropping open for exactly 15 seconds. Now Melyza, she can do the robot. The counselor, who does a little captain obvious work on the side, points out that trust is key.
“Thank you, we’re totally changed,” Cheese is grateful. I’m going to interrupt their exhaustive dialog with reflections on my kittens, Pickle and Sprocket.
Cheese: I mean, my job is like a night club. It’s an orgy up in there. I participated. Oops, that happened. I was wearing those pants that snap away from your body, and it’s not easy being cheesy.
Biniyam: Those are very important when you are getting paid sometimes $500, and sometimes $400., IDGAF.
Me: So Pickle just crawled inside one of those velcro IKEA shoe boxes, and it fell over the side of my closet and down a ramp of my clothing like a barrel over Niagara Falls. The other cats have gathered to survey the damage. Sprocket holds up a paw to announce there’s one body. Then Pickle hits him in the face, because he ain’t shit.
Cheese: I’m thinking about returning to America and all the ladies waiting for me in tier one tech support.
Melyza: (A deer walks out of the woods and starts gnawing on her face. Her expression doesn’t change.)
Counselor Captain Obvious: Do you think you should have a conversation about shoes or the proper name for that flap around your elbow, or anything other than an event from a year ago you’re apparently never going to get over?
Cheese: No.
Melyza: Same.
In crimes against humanity, the only folks facing intense marriage obstacles are Kenny and Armando, who apparently have to beg for recognition. They’re headed to receive their formal marriage license rejection before taking it to human rights advocates that might intervene on their behalf. Part of Kenny’s frustration is that they moved to this particular state in Mexico because marriage is legal there, and the sooner they’re married, the sooner Kenny can work. Armando tells Hannah that they’re going to have to fight to get married, because they’re being denied their rights. Hannah is appalled and says they’re mean, which Armando agrees is accurate reporting.
“Ugly trickster,” Hannah declares, instantly giving me new ideas for flare and band names.
At the office they go over the rejection, and Armando reads, “It is not permitted to celebrate same sex marriage, to guarantee and save the human species. We can only trust people like Angela to make that happen. The world is now a better place.”
Kenny’s hair stands higher in rage and humiliation. “We’re part of the human race,” Kenny reminds anyone willing to listen. His inner light is starting to dim in the face of a Reagan-era level of oppression, and now he’s tasked with doing it all over again, without having the language to understand what people are saying about him.
As they leave, Hannah wants to know if they got permission to get married, and Kenny tells her not yet. Armando’s understanding of the culture makes him better prepared to deal with this rejection, and Kenny’s discouragement is palpable.
In Whyarewewatchingthis, South Korea, Deavan calls her mom to see if Jihoon is still in Paul’s doghouse because of an event that would have been written off as Drascilla being a “wild child” if anyone else had been in charge. Elicia says of course he is, he probably has all of them juggling knives and having scissors races, and she has nowhere else to funnel her peri menopausal rage. After Deavan gets off the phone, Jihoon reports also knowing hormonal suffering, through Elicia Phobia Syndrome.
On the way to the airport Drascilla is stoked to see her grandparents, since she hasn’t been around any adults except her Korean grandparents and Teayang. She breaks into a run the minute she sees her grandfather, and promptly bursts into tears. The family circles around her in comfort, except Jihoon, who tells his mom they’re kinda like extras. Teayang, for his part, continues thinking and reflecting about his unique place in the world, and escape possibilities for both himself and Drascilla.
“Don’t leave us here alone,” Drascilla pleads with grandpa. “At least not until Teayang understands his thumbs. Only the road promises freedom, and I ran so fast, but it wasn’t fast enough. Are you listening to me? LOOK AT ME!”
“Yes, these are the clumsiest little contraptions,” Teayang knows he’s lost the thumb war. “But I can sit in a plastic chair and kick my legs around in a walk-like manner. Like this. Here, watch this. My feet are grazing the linoleum! Just tickling the tippy top! This is development, and I’m not afraid. Tell me, why isn’t there an adult version to ensure the safety of the elderly? A wheelchair is almost this, but it’s not, is it? Where is the whimsy? Where is the joy? Do our elders not enjoy crashing into a kitchen island? Everyone loves that. Right, hello Elicia. I trust you’re well. My father’s peace depends upon your silence. I will pray for a sinus infection that is both swift and merciless.”
“We’re gonna die!” Elicia runs and shouts with a cart full of luggage, as they cross the street in a crosswalk.
Next time: Melyza and Tim play second verse, same as the first, Deavan tries on wedding dresses while Elicia maintains her fingertip grip on reality, Janice encourages Ari to agree with Janice, Brittany finds out the truth of what Yazan has been through, Sumit’s parents call Jenny an oldie but not a goodie, and as Sumit gets down on his knees to plead with his parents, Jenny says she can’t do this to his family and should just go back to America. Yep, Jenny is all out of why?, and I’m here for it.
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submitted by fractalfay to 90dayfianceuncensored

It sucks but here is the last 40 years in a nutshell.

I really don't know where to begin. At the beginning I guess. This isn't a rant but it's not not a rant. I guess I need somewhere to write it all down. It's become too much at the moment and I just need to write it down so I can see it without my own opinions influencing me. Skip if you want, it basically boils down to "wow, that sucked". If this isn't the right sub, sorry; I don't really post much.
TRIGGERS: So many I don't know where to start. Grooming, abandonment, detailed abuse. To my sister, K.A.F. DO NOT READ. YOU WILL NOT BE OKAY.
My parents had me young, very young, like 15 and 18 years old young. They went on to have two more kids. When I was five they divorced. I saw my dad twice more, once for my birthday when I was seven and once when I was eight. That side of the family never sent a card or a gift, never made a phone call or asked for a school picture ever again.
When I was eight my mother found her third husband. She got pregnant again and married him. He believed in spare the rod, spoil the child. I spent the next five years being hit with a belt, a cutting board, open hand and once the handle of a rake for disobedience. I just couldn't be good. I would lie about finishing my school work or not do my chores before reading after school.
We got a computer when I was in the sixth grade. It was a keyboard that plugged into a monitor and could play Oregon Trail, in green and white. My step father came home early. I hadn't washed dishes, finished the laundry or started dinner. I thought I had three more hours. It's funny what you remember and what you don't. I remember that he was home super early. I remember his face as he walked in and that horrible feeling in the bottom of my stomach. The one that knots up and you feel nauseous. I don't remember how he picked me up from the chair and slammed me against the wall or how his fingers tightened to the point of leaving a handprint and five finger prints on my throat. I don't remember when or why he stopped or what happened after. I do remember my teacher not asking what happened while my neighbor did.
We moved a lot. My step father had become my primary parent. He taught me to cook, to grill, to do yard work, how to swing a hammer and drive a nail, how to pour concrete and help set forms. He was my hero that punished me when I deserved it. My mother was only a background character. She worked and babied my two youngest sisters. Only she didn't, not really. I bathed them. I dressed them. I had at least half the parenting jobs. It made me feel good, important, grown up. Everyone one said it, "how grown up you are."
Sometime in my seventh year, my mother had an affair. How and when I don't recall. She moved out and left us with my step father. (She has said that he made her leave but that is information I received a decade later.) It was New Year's day. There were three TVs side by side, all turned to football. Kids were in bed, maybe, I can't truly recall. My step father put his arm around me and I snuggled into him. It was nice. It was good. He fell asleep. While he slept his hand moved down and started stroking my breast. It wasn't his fault he was a sleep. I woke him up and he apologized. I felt weird. Sick, no nauseous but not. Time moved on. A week later I heard about my mother not giving head, or being a good wife, how I was a better wife. "We just didn't have sex," he said. Can you be proud and scared and nervous and freaked out all at once? I loved him. He was so good. He took care of me. He taught me things. He only punished me when I was bad. My mother left. My father left. He didn't leave. Whatever, I was a grown up and I liked that he could share his feelings. Right? That's what close friends do?
Sometimes I look back and want to scream and sometimes I think God, why were you so stupid? How did I let this happen? Secretly I still think I made the choice. It felt like my choice. Yeah, sure, everyone says it wasn't but they didn't know how it was.
My step father was in construction, if you hadn't guessed. He had a lot of sore back muscles, neck muscles, arm muscles and leg muscles. I would rub his back and neck. While my mother was gone he had me rub his arms and legs. (My hands are shaking now, is that normal?) I noticed he'd fall asleep while I was doing this. He'd flip over in his sleep and mumble about thigh muscles. I'd watch my hands. There was an element of fear, excitement, the twisting in my stomach as I watched my hands. He was asleep. It wasn't his fault that his penis would swell and jump as my hands moved. I'd leave before anything could come of it, (poor choice of words).
At least at first. Then about a month in, he put my hand on his penis and I knew what I should do. I've seen films and read those cheap romance novels. He moaned and said it hurt and because he was asleep I knew this was my choice. I had chosen this. The first time was weird. It was nothing like the books said. He never woke up. Over the next months, three times a week, I knew what I was supposed to do. And he was always asleep.
I'm older now. I know he was never asleep. I do logically know this. Logically is the key word.
My mother came back but it was never the same. We all moved again only he moved my youngest sister and me with him, while my mother finished the last weeks of her job and packed up the house. I was no longer giving "massages" now he was awake because I had made this a thing between us. He was going to teach me. And that's how a graduated to oral sex in the eighth grade and to missionary sex by the ninth.
I got pregnant in the tenth. My mother found out about what had been going on and took me to have an abortion. She then stopped talking to me for ruining her marriage.
I turned 16. He stopped sleeping with me. I stole a car and a gun. I wanted to end it but was too scared to do it. I ended up in foster care. He had bragged to some friends about me. They turned him in when he didn't pay back a loan to them.
He went to jail. I never saw him again. I hate rubbing anyone's back. I can't stand the smell of frito chips or bloody mary's. I still blame myself more than sometimes.
When I was 18, I got pregnant and had a son. It was hard. I hadn't finished high school. I took my GED but it isn't really the same. I got in contact with my father.
He and I had spoken or seen each other 8 times in 22 years (twice on the phone when I had a pc programming issue, once when I flew up to visit, once when he flew down to visit, twice at my sister's weddings, once when we meet at the airport between flights for lunch, and once when he flew down to meet me in San Francisco for a day with my new spouse.)
I'm 42 and I've worked though these things in therapy. Not everything goes away and guilt and blame still cling to me.
My father died this week. He had a "new" wife these last 26ish years. They've been happy and had two kids. The wife is great. I've meet her at least 3 times and talked through facebook and christmas cards over the last few years. I never expected her to be a "parent" to me. It hurt though that she signed my father's name on cards or arranged our meetings. It felt like she made him do it.
When he had a stroke, she let me know. The last month or so I haven't heard anything. I've been getting my news from the one sister I'm close to.
My father didn't wake up. When KAF called for an update, she was told "Oh yeah, your dad died. Four hours ago" She called me to let me know.
4 hours. Would they have ever called to tell us? What made me so horrible at 8 that my mother gave me to a man to be a whipping boy and my father decided it was too much work?
I asked my mother this and she says she can't sleep because of how terrible she was as a parent and how I was worth more, am worth more. Okay, what do I do with that? It doesn't make it feel better. It didn't make my guilt and shame go away.
My father's funeral was yesterday. It was a funeral. He was a great guy. Everyone loved him. He loved politics, history, was good at problem solving. It was nice to know we had this in common but why couldn't I know this before? He was a great father (just not to us, his first three kids).
I got through it until his brother spoke. "He had to grow up fast because he had a young family. It didn't really work out so he moved home and I had to share a room with him. I mean it didn't work out, the young family, but he helped me. He was such a good role model."
We didn't work out? We weren't a business plan. I feel worse everyday and that family just drove it home. He was survived by his kids (no mention of names) and his siblings, his wife and his mother.
I don't know why I wanted to tell someone else this. My life is good. I'm in college, which is hard because I never learned to study. I'm happily married, together 11 years, married 3. My son is studying to be a kindergarden teacher. I moved overseas. I have a good job and 1 great friend and 3 good friends.
I guess I wanted to remind myself I was worth something then and I'm worth something now. I just feel empty, then sad, then empty again.
submitted by Stalker_of_Cake to JUSTNOFAMILY