Hiya,
This time last week I was writing to you all from the grandeur and beauty of mine and Mr. Warehouse's room at the Hotel Victoria conveniently located along the Cornish coastline, right in the heart of Newquay. This time next week I shall be writing to you all hopefully poolside from mine and the Tweedles apartment in (hopefully) sunny Lanzarote, Canary Islands. Oh what a jet setting life I lead! But all that holibobbing doesn't fix some things which was evident this week.
After not hearing anything from my father in weeks since calling him in agony asking for his help and not receiving it I had refused to answer his pathetic attempts at conversation and apart from a few crumby phone calls when he wasn't already preoccupied that I ignored I had received nothing - Not even an apology. Friday afternoon though, I got a text message asking me to talk to my Dad and explain why I was upset with him. 'Thank fuck for that' I thought 'Finally he gets it and understands why I was (and still am) so upset with him'! I replied something that I thought made the point but also explained that I would not let this ruin our relationship anymore than it already had been.
"I would have thought it was obvious why I did not want to speak with you after the last time we spoke I had asked for your help when I was in severe pain and you didn't help me at all. No I acknowledge that by the time you got to me I could have got to where I needed to go to get help and be back at home all by the time you had even reached my flat, but what I cannot understand is that after knowing my financial situation what with Mr. Warehouse being out of work as well as the current medical difficulty I was in also, you still chose not to help me. This is not the first time that I have asked for your help and it had not been received, but I can assure you that it will be the last as I will not be asking for your help anymore as I simply cannot rely on you as a daughter should be her Dad. I am still upset and angry but I will see you this weekend I am sure at the family BBQ, but just know that whilst I will be civil and polite to you, your priorities are in all the wrong order and some changes need to be made. xxx" I wrote, emotional but glad I was able to say everything I needed too. Fifteen minutes later I received this reply:
"Right. Now you have had your little rant and said what you want to say - Believe me, my priorities are in good order, but I am deeply embarrassed by you and your actions. I have done everything to assist you and help you where I can and by the best means I have available, and yet you still throw shit in my face. My girlfriend and her family has shown you nothing but love and gratitude from day one and it is YOU who chooses to ignore them and that you do well. She tries to call or text you to give you advice from a female perspective, but you are rude and fail to see that others care for you as well as me. You are all about yourself and what you can get from others. I love you to the end of the world and back but you still wish to make my life hell after the divorce. I thought that WE had put this shit to bed years ago, but there it is sitting under your radar ready to throw at me again. As for you being ill, I was VERY concerned as it was me that called you everyday to see how you were, but you never answered and you never call me, do you? I could not have taken you to the hospital any quicker that a Taxi could have. YOU MADAM have a wonderful boyfriend who loves and cares for you and I could have done nothing to help other than what I did - Sorry it was not enough. You should take a long hard look in the mirror and think long and hard about what you want from life and who you want to spend/share it with because from where I am sitting I am very happy. I don't need enemies in my life but if they are there I know how to handle them. What I love in my life is my partner, daughter, our families and a few choice friends."
Shocked and stunned at what I was reading I drank my coffee as I waited for Miss Stuu to collect me and go to Dinner with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee who were shopping in Milton Keynes. Calling my Auntie for advice she backed up everything I thought about myself, the situation and my life as I know it so far. But as I discussed it round the table with my girlfriends I knew that something was not right. Getting home that night I fell into Mr. Warehouse's arms and sobbed, explaining what a terrible message I had received and why my life was so pants when it came to parental guidance.
Your Parents are meant to be there throughout everything. Like "Fuck - Mom, I'm Pregnant!" or "Dad I really need your help - I'm in serious trouble" it would always be your parents that you turn to first. Whether its because you have spent all your food money in the first week of Freshers or because you got arrested for doing something unlawful, your parents should always be there for you, supporting you in any and every way they can, be it mentally, emotionally or even financially. That is there job - Right? At least that is what I thought anyway. Obviously I am incorrect in my way of thinking. Now yes, I do acknowledge that I am twenty-four, but I still need me Mam and Dad. Doesn't matter how old you get, there will always be an excuse to go out for some shopping and a cheeky afternoon tea with your mom whilst you bitch about the girls or how shitty your ex was. There will always be a time where you Dad endearingly threatens to beat up a purely-platonic, male-friend of yours, just in case he breaks my heart. Not for me.
It used to make me so sad when I watched programmes about weddings and saw ladies planning their dream day with their mothers or having girlie pamper nights watching chick flicks with lots of naughty treats. Slowly over time I have had no choice but to accept that my friends and co-workers will have this, but I will not. Over time I have understood this is something through no fault of mine I cannot have. Or at least I thought so. But now with my Father also acting in a way that is progressively shutting me out as the years go on I am starting to wonder if it is me? What did I honestly do wrong to deserve this? What in a past life of mine did I do so wrong that I was dealt not just one lemon, but a whole fucking truck load?
I have other friends and family members around me that can fill that space, but the principal is that they shouldn't have to. He is my Dad and should step up and be one, not pushing me aside until it suits him. Sometimes I am grateful that my baby Brother (although at twenty this year he is not so little anymore) is not involved in this mess, for if our Dad can barely stretch his time to see or help me then what hope would he have?! In a way I think I can handle it and deal with it on a level, but why should I? Why should I have to put up with the lame excuses why he can't see me or why he isn't able to help me out. No more. Suffice to say the BBQ the follwoing afternoon was a tad frosty and whilst we spoke a few words to each other I was not in any way going to stick my neck out on the line and offer an olive branch.
I will never know why my Dad is "embarrassed" by me and my actions or how I "still throw shit" in his face
after the divorce or even how or why I should be seen to make an effort
with someone else's family when they rarely bother with me and quite
frankly have no reason to include them in a life that has never included
them before a few years ago. I love my Father to pieces however I now
realise just how selfish and self-obsessed he has always been, even from
a young age and that is not going to change just because we all got
another year older.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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