The matching Tattoo my sister and I got.
My Dad died two years ago today..or yesterday..no one really knows. He died at home, alone.
Luckily the neighbours raised the alarm, or who knows how long he could have been there. I didn’t know where he was, we hadn’t been in contact for years, and my randomly ringing Ingram phone numbers from the white pages over the years had come to nothing.
I hadn’t seen him since Hayden was a baby. He came to visit us in hospital…drunk. And then a few weeks later he came to see us..drunk..at 11am in the morning. At which point I had to tell him he couldn’t come see us any more if he couldn’t do it sober..I couldn’t do it any more. He was hurt, but he understood..and that was the last time I ever saw him.
Some may remember reading the posts, the main one I stupidly deleted so as not to offend his arse hole family…did I mention his family are arse holes? I guess, at the time I didn’t realise how much they had actually screwed us.
He died, and they didn’t bother to contact us to let us know. We found out by chance, 2 months later, from child support, when they rang to tell my mother she would no longer be getting child support from him for my sister.
They didn’t even publish a death notice (which I also randomly checked), or have a funeral for him.
Who does that? What on earth could we have ever done, to deserve to be treated like that? We were children for fuck sake..he was the alcoholic that ruined our family and drank himself to death.
We managed to track down a number for his parents. It was the worst phone call I have ever had to make. Surely it was all a mistake. SURELY he could not have died and no one told us. But when I spoke to his Mum, and asked if she knew where he was. All she could reply was, “I’m sorry dear, he’s dead. We tried to contact you but couldn’t find your number.” What fucking bullshit! It’s called Google and Facebook people. They couldn’t have even tried.
He was cremated. His sister was off on holidays for 6 weeks, and said when she got back, Stacey and I could decide what we wanted to do with his ashes. Never heard from her again, and have not been able to contact her.
Who knows what they have done with him?
I’m so glad we got married just a month after all this, and finally get rid of their surname, it began to feel dirty and filled me with stabby rage every time I thought about it.
Today, I can’t feel anything more than really bitter and angry about them and the whole thing. Perhaps it is my fault, should I have done more. Should I now? Or is it too late.
I spent years wondering if he was alive or dead. Now I know..it doesn’t seem to make it any easier or offer any closure.
