Chapter 12


The new lady in our Dad’s life seemed so pretty and nice. But she was a snake with a poison tongue disguised in fine linens. Dad was guilty of sharing with her issues he had most of his life as they became closer.

The one thing he did share with her, and for name’s sake, let’s call her B. Dad told her many of his frustrations with Al. He never took the blame for his feelings. It was easier to place it on others.

Dad would tell her how Al fought to trim the yard, but he omitted to explain Al’s mentality and slowness. He told her that Al would not mow the yard, but again he never said Al had never mowed because he was incapable.

It wasn’t long before B decided Al was a piece of crap, disappointing his Dad, defying what his Dad needed from him. She took it upon herself to lecture Al any chance she could get. The catch was she always did it behind Dad’s back.

She could smile oh so pretty, but a way from Dad? She was a venomous snake ready to pounce. I have to be honest here. I think even if she would have said something in front of Dad, he wouldn’t have done a thing.

Dad was always afraid of what others thought of him. He was always ashamed of us kids. It is so hard to explain to you because I don’t understand why myself today. I know he loved us, well I am pretty sure.

Al learned to hate this woman B. He would run and hide if he found out Dad and B were coming over. I say coming over because by now she had invited him into her home to live. This left Al once again on his own. Dad and B would come over to mow or check the mail. While Dad mowed, this is when B would go into the house.

I can still remember once when I was there to see Dad I walked in on B yelling at Al. She was saying,” You are such a disappointment to your father. Why do you fight him so bad? Don’t you think you are old enough to be out there mowing instead of making your sick Dad do it? No wonder he moved in with me. He needed to get a way.”

I stepped up to the plate and threw her ass out. I told her, “Don’t you ever talk to my brother that way again, or I swear you will regret it the rest of your life. Now get the hell out of our house.”

She and I never told Dad of this conversation. You see Dad was sick. He had Bone Cancer. I didn’t want him to have the added stress in his life. Another thing I should add here is there was five acres to mow with a riding lawn mower. Al could never have done it, even if he had tried his best. His coordination just wasn’t capable of doing this chore.

B treated me different at first; nice is the word I would say. She was the pretty one. She lived on a beautiful piece of property on a channel. She had a cute little dog and kept an immaculate house. She was not going to be taking care of a sick man. She would cook for him but that was it, and he could sleep in her bed. Other than that, it was all up to me.

I took Dad to all of his doctor appointments. I took care of insurance companies. I had a job where I went to work at 6pm on Friday nights. I lived at this house taking care of an elderly married couple. I would leave Monday morning at 8 and return that same day at 6pm. I stayed all night then left Tuesday morning at 8. Then I was off the rest of the week.

In between this job I took care of Dad. I would be invited to Thanksgiving but Al wasn’t. This was just eating me alive. I was actually invited to the dinner because I was his caregiver and she was his lover, cook and housekeeper. I had to be there in case he needed something.

I was there quite a bit. I took care of Dad from March 2007 until he passed a way in December of the same year. B would take him on leisure one-day trips and of course I had to go along. Al would go to our Aunt’s  home for holidays and I would be with Dad and B.

I guess at one time B and our step-sister had met and got along fine and once again Dad had confided in his disappointment in her and B sent her a way too. So I was the only one allowed in her home and even then I knew the only reason was because she needed me.

As Dad became more ill I was there more and more. I was asked by Dad to come over more often than not. I think from his and my conversations he knew that he had made an error with picking her but was too afraid at this point. He didn’t want to go back to his home and die alone.

Dad was a big part of the blame for B not getting along with Al and the other sister, because he never cleared up the truth. He let her go on and believe what she wanted. As I was at her home almost constantly to care for Dad she would say hateful things to me.

I felt so torn. Dad didn’t want to go home and live. I had begged him to go back to his own house and I would care for him there. I told him I would get coverage for part of my hours but he insisted I stick with my job since I was almost divorced from the now ex.

8 thoughts on “Chapter 12

  1. How terrible, Terry (and I missed a couple chapters here). I hate that she was that way with Al. This reminds me of my father who has a weakness for women and they all sound like this one–making a mess of everything and then my father chooses them over me again and again. One had histrionic personality disorder. Holy nightmare! Well, you were a good daughter, regardless. I know your dad appreciated that in the end. You should have been a nurse, btw (as in an RN)!
    Hugs, A

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    • I have entered nursing school twice and didn’t make it very far as it seemed Al always ended up in the hospital. I have been a CNA for over 20 years and also earned a Pharmacy Technician certificate. For several years I wanted to be a nurse, but now I don’t think it will happen. Nurses don’t generally qualify after 60 for new hires. You have to be on your toes and of good mind. Since I am 59 by the time I could actually get back in school and graduate I would be well over 60, but it was a dream

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      • I had no idea and glad to hear it! Well, good enough I say. You were made for that field, regardless of the degree. I know your age… I’m 1974 (oh, you’re not old–my body thinks it’s 90). What a bad b-day this one was, eh? Nearly the end of another decade. Boo hoo.
        A 🙂

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      • it is so hard to even think that next year I will be the big 60. Will my boobs drop to the floor, will I finally find wrinkles keeping my clothes up???? lol

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  2. Pingback: Footprints In The Sand | terry1954

  3. Pingback: Chapter 15 | terry1954

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