Moving Day…

I am sitting on the floor writing this as my father stands over me, yelling at me, demanding me: “get out of my life”, claiming that my husband is a “fag” and that he retaliated him because he is evil. Surprisingly, I am not as triggered as I expected to be.

It all started when I told him that we were going to move on Sunday instead of Saturday due to logistics with the cleaning lady at our other house. Well, this threw my father for a loop. He intended on going to church that day and I guess he was scared that my husband would come to the condo while he was away, and of course, this infuriated him. Well shit hit the fan after that – he went off on me, saying I was a bad daughter, etc. etc. Oh, he also said “You are stupid!” several times. It actually made me curious as to whether or not he’s said this when I was growing up. That surely would’ve scarred me, and now I am seeing more and more everyday, where my lack of confidence and insecurities have come from.

I really don’t know if he has dementia, although friends who are familiar with the disease tell me that he shows clear signs of it. And if that is true, then it is my bad that I changed the plans on him in the first place. Dementia patients do not like change I am told. For weeks, I told him we were moving on Saturday only to change it to Sunday at the last minute.

Well turns out, we changed the plans back due to the severely irrational reaction by my father. We are moving today instead – Saturday.

This morning, I went to his room to tell him we were moving on Saturday instead. One thing led to another, and he said once again that he wants me “… out of my life!”  And to verify what he meant, I said: “Forever? You never want to see me again?” to which he responded: “No!” To which I said: “Oh, so in other words, I’m as good as dead?” And he said: “Yes!”  At this point, I ran to get my iPhone to video tape him as this was a pretty intense command that he is insisting upon – he wants to NEVER see me again. Part of me was a little panicked, but so many other parts of me are so completely detached that it didn’t phase me.

I guess the one thing that kills me is that I put my complete trust and devotion into him.  I had no idea that he would get this bad with me. But I realize now that no matter who is living with him, he will try to make them responsible for his misery and his happiness. I guess it doesn’t matter if that person is his daughter or just some stranger he met off the street. I guess I feel betrayed for all that I have done for him. I actually feel used. My husband and I busted our asses off to move him down here, sell his house, and take care of him, and on top of that, I petitioned to get him his green card. Now he is telling me to get out of his life. Maybe I should look into legal reprecautions around this since the sponsor of the green card holder is deemed responsible for them for 10 years.

He told me to leave his room at this point, and as I walked back to my room to get on the laptop, he followed me, dancing around, teeth clenched, laughing an evil Dracula laugh and singing: “Work work work work, you are a worker to the fag….”

I tried to video tape it. It was actually quite hilarious, although I know that describing it won’t even do it justice. But my iPhone ran out of space.

Anyway, I am going to get some coffee.