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Horrible People

Published August 18, 2017 by dividinguplife

I found out the other night that my mother-in-law told someone that I was a horrible person and she wishes that my husband never married me. I’ve been so thrown off by the whole thing that I have had quite a few sleepless nights over it. I can’t figure out why she would say that. I also know her well enough to know that if I confront her with this, she will deny that she ever said it. 

I’m the horrible person that cosigned on a car for her, and then she let it get repossessed after my brother-in-law wrecked it and then “fixed it” himself with the insurance money. She claimed the car was a “piece of shit” and the fun part is, she wasn’t going to tell me that she was returning the car. When my husband and I were over there one day, we noticed the car sitting in the driveway without tags on it. I finally questioned her about it and it was as nonchalant as it could be. As if she were going to the grocery store. Not adding a severe dent into my credit. I can’t afford another car payment – taking on the car for myself wasn’t an option. Plus, I don’t know what kind of damage my BIL did that he didn’t properly fix. Still, I didn’t say anything. I’ve known these people my entire life, and I didn’t want to cause problems between them and my husband. 

This is also a woman that has purposely set two of her houses on fire to collect the insurance money. She did them both within a few years of each other and got a nice little payout. 

And I can’t, for the life of me figure out what I have done to be deemed a “horrible person.” 

I think it’s because my husband doesn’t go to their house very much. He can’t stand to be around his brother, who is drunk as soon as he hits the door in the afternoon. 

Most recently he has started dating his ex-brother-in-law’s wife. She left her husband and took refuge at his house with him and his mom. My brother-in-law is a very predictable man-whore. He’s an alcoholic, a loner, and a momma’s boy. She shelters him and makes excuses for his drinking, claiming he “doesn’t drink that much”. This new addition to his life also drinks and smokes pot like he does, and so it seems they are a match made in alcoholic hell. Neither myself nor my husband want to be around any of that. I guess it’s easier to make me the bad guy in this scenario.

I am also still friendly with my BIL’s ex-wife. She and I had our problems in the past. We had a lot of problems, actually. When she and BIL were married, she accused me interfering with their marriage, and her mother blamed me for the reason behind their split. None of which I had anything to do with. My past with BIL is what always seems to get in the way of everything. Somehow my thirteen year old self is attached to my thirty-two year old self, and nobody realizes that the past is the past. The only person that doesn’t blame me for anything in my past involving my BIL is my husband. 

Still, it’s difficult to know that the family I grew up loving so much as my own family, thinks so poorly of me – and for reasons that I don’t understand and probably never will. It doesn’t seem to hurt my husbands feelings too much to not be over there around them, but I feel like eventually he’s going to have to “choose sides” per se, and when he chooses mine, they will further blame me for whatever issue they have. 

 

As far as the estate things go – I’m pretty relieved at what we found out. Because my step-dad adopted me when I was five, any legal right to be the daughter of my biological dad ended at that point. My half-sister is the sole heir of my dad’s house and all of his belongings. She’s also first in line for Estate Administrator. With that comes the responsibility of making sure all of his debt is paid. Also, she is now responsible for my dad’s mortgage since she has inherited his house. It’s up to her to sell it, break even or take a loss on the cost. She can do nothing and let the state have it. Or she can live in it and make his mortgage payment. This responsibility going to a 23 year old girl that has never had a full-time job and doesn’t even know how to file her own taxes. Now I have to figure out a way to sit her down and explain all of this in a way that her Vyvance induced state can handle.

My husband and I plan to take a cruise in February with some of the money my dad left for me. We never did get a honeymoon, and very rarely have time to take for ourselves. We also want to take a trip somewhere in the states that we’ve never been – just a weekend getaway at a nice hotel. He’s always wanted to go to Vegas. I would like to go to Key West.  Either way, as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter. 

The Estate Problems Continue …

Published August 10, 2017 by dividinguplife

The law is a tricky thing. I think I have a newfound respect for attorney’s and understand why there are so many different types of attorney’s. I could never remember all of the things they have to remember when it comes to doing everything “by the book” as they say. 

I found out that I cannot be an estate administrator simply because I’m the daughter. Why? Because when my step-dad adopted me, that ended my legal right to proclaim that I am the daughter of my biological dad. Regardless of our time spent together, and his apologies for the past, in the eyes of the law, it doesn’t matter. 

We are still moving forward with the Probate, but having my grandmother do it, instead. She has a better chance of obtaining Estate Administrator than I do, and a better chance of winning against my half-sister should it come to that. As greedy as my half-sisters side of the family is, I have a feeling they are going to want all control of everything, even though my half-sister doesn’t even know how to write a check, much less make sure our dad’s past-due bills and estate matters are paid in full. 

My dad’s girlfriend has decided to give me my check tomorrow. She said she is sick of worrying about the potential disaster that could happen from his ex-wife’s side of the family. I told her if they questioned what he did, they can feel free to come after me for it. I’ll fight to the end on that one. I think my half-sister will get his entire $300,000 (minus taxes) 401k. I have a feeling he didn’t make me beneficiary with her. I know he meant to, but I don’t think he got around to it. She will have a very easy life with that kind of money. It would take me 8 years to make that kind of money. 

I’ve been sleeping like absolute garbage for the past two weeks. But I also read that with the upcoming solar eclipse (here we will see a total eclipse), it’s throwing off circadian rhythm and sleep cycle. That could have something to do with it. I’ve never had this kind of difficulty falling asleep before. 

It’s difficult to not question God as to why He had to take my dad so early. We were just starting to build our relationship after thirty-one years of nothing. I still held him at arms length most of the time, but I was trying, and so was he. Now he’s gone, and the memory that keeps playing over in my head is the day he died, and me going to see him one last time. Everything I hoped for us was gone in that instant. He died knowing that I love him, and I know he loved me in the best way he could. My dad had a lot of ghosts and insecurities that stemmed his entire fifty years. He had abandonment issues from his own father, and my grandmother wasn’t always emotionally stable when he was growing up. She depended on men and when it went wrong, she dissolved into hysteria which affected my dad in so many ways. There’s no blame, only sadness for all of the lost time between us. 

Estate Drama

Published August 6, 2017 by dividinguplife

Last night I slept for nine hours. That’s the first time I have slept that long in over two weeks. I’d like to say that everything is going smoothly, but because my dad didn’t finish his will, I fear that the fun is just starting. 

What does this mean for me?

Well, involved in this entire legal process – it’s a mess. The two main players in this game, are myself and my half-sister. My half-sister is sadly a pawn being used by her mother and her grandmother. Her mother is the ex-wife of my dad. She was still on the deed of the house. She moved very quickly to get his name removed from the deed, so now it’s her house. All of the things inside of the house are still considered part of my dad’s estate. I’m not sure if they know that or not. 

They also don’t yet know that my dad’s will was unfinished. They are currently searching for it via my dad’s former attorney who was currently working on the equitable distribution of assets for his ex-wife.

I am very close with my dad’s girlfriend. She has most everything needed in regard to his fiances and bills that are owed. Knowing that my dad doesn’t have a will has enabled me to go ahead and set up and appointment with a probate officers downtown to apply for Estate Administrator. Unfortunately there isn’t an available appointment for three weeks. But, once my half-sister finds out that there is no will, her grandmother will start the same process. Thankfully I’m on top of it faster than them. 

My half-sister is letting people fill her head with shit. People that don’t even know what’s going on. Before my dad died, my half-sister went to his girlfriends house crying because she didn’t’ have the money to pay for her cell phone bill. My dad’s girlfriend paid for it with my dad’s debit card, because that’s what he would have wanted her to do. When the locks were changed on my dad’s house (by my half-sister) this week, they took some of his mail which showed her cellphone bill being paid with his account while he was in hospice. Now she thinks that his girlfriend has been running around town with his debit card, spending his money. Dad’s girlfriend was advised by an attorney to hang on to his personal effects (keys, credit and debit card) and not give them to anyone because it’s a liability. When my half-sister asked for those things, she was told that she couldn’t have them, and that set her off. She just doesn’t understand that my dad’s girlfriend is the only one concerned about doing everything fairly and legally. 

My dad also wrote three rather large checks to his girlfriend 12 days before he died. One was for living expenses, one was for me, and one for his memorial and for his girlfriend to get a car. The checks cleared into his girlfriends account well before he died …. but an attorney-friend of hers told her that those checks could still be considered part of his estate if my half-sisters side of the family obtained estate administrator and questioned those checks. So, we’re scared to spend any of that money, and she’s scared to give me my check from my dad in case we get sued. 

Tomorrow I have to go downtown on my lunch break and try to get my original birth certificate. I have my birth certificate, but it’s from when my step-dad adopted me, so my dad’s name isn’t on that one. I have to pray that he did actually sign my original birth certificate. My mom says he did. My step-dad says he doesn’t think he did. If that doesn’t exist, then I will have to do a DNA test via my grandma and my biological grandfather that has dementia and I haven’t seen in twenty years. I have to be able to prove that he’s my father if I’m to apply for Estate Administrator. 

I’m exhausted. I’m not the kind of person that likes to be social, I don’t like confrontation, and I don’t like people being mad at me. I know that once my half-sister finds out I’m going for Estate Administrator, she is going to feel really betrayed. I’m doing it because she doesn’t know how to think for herself. She lets her grandmother control everything in her life. Her grandmother is  class A bitch. She’s manipulative, she hated my father, she hates me, she hates everyone … probably even herself. If my half-sister were to get Estate Administrator, her grandmother would be the one filing my dad’s taxes, paying his bills, and controlling everything. This shit isn’t her business, but she would make it that way. 

Today is the first day in two weeks I haven’t done anything except go to the grocery store, and sit around the house. He’s only been gone a week, and it feels like he’s been gone for so much longer. 

It’s going to be a long road. 

Tears in Heaven

Published July 31, 2017 by dividinguplife

It has been a long week. I am running on very little sleep, and even less energy than I normally have. 

I spent every day last week, by my dad’s side. I watched him progressively get worse each day. On Thursday, the “death rattle” started. It wasn’t very loud, but it was unnerving nonetheless. Especially when you know what’s eventually coming. I talked to him, I stroked his hair. I told him it was okay to go with God. I told him I would take care of Grams, that I would be okay, and that he could be at peace with the life he has had. 

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I went before work, I went after work and stayed a few hours. I spent time with friends of his that I had never met, that all had funny and amazing stories to tell. 

I held his hand while playing Rush. My dad loved Rush like he loved no other band. 

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I spent a lot of time with his girlfriend, sitting in silence in his room. I found out that she’s an empath like I am. 

I drove out to his house one night while she was there, because his car wouldn’t start and I was going to pick her up so we could go see him. We sat in his house for over an hour talking about everything. She gave me his guitar and some guns that were his dads. We talked about my half-sister and how upsetting it is that she’s in New York doing some Shadow Pirates Gig while my dad was laying there fighting to breathe. 

My dad’s girlfriend shared with me the text messages my half-sister was sending her, regarding my dad’s 401K. She wanted to know exactly how much he had in there. She knows that she is the beneficiary. I’m not sure if he ever added me as one, and it doesn’t really matter. I find it very tasteless that this was her concern. She also asked that if our dad were to die, that she not be told until she returns home, so as not to ruin her time in New York. 

My dad passed away at 4 in the morning on Sunday. It turned out to be a beautiful day. I went up to hospice to see him at 10:30 that morning only to be told that he had passed. I asked them if he was still there, and they said yes. The funeral home would be there shortly to get his body. They took me back to his room and opened the patio doors so that sunlight and breeze could filter in. My dad was laying there, with a peaceful expression; his eyes open and glazed over, mouth half open. I thought I would be okay standing by his side. I thought I could be strong enough to not lose my shit, but I did. I sobbed and stroked his cold forehead. I told him how handsome he looked, even in death. I touched his hair and placed my hand on his chest. I cried all over him and his hospital gown. I waited with him until the funeral home got there. I called my grandma and let her know that her son had gone to Heaven and that I would be home soon. I stood in the hallway with the rest of the staff for a moment of silence and respect, as the funeral home wheeled his body out. 

Today I went with his girlfriend to the funeral home to finalize his arrangements for cremation. We had lunch together at one of their favorite Mexican restaurants and talked about my dad and his past, and my past, and how peaceful it was that I had closure with him, since he wasn’t there for the first 31 years of my life. 

I will miss him, and the time we didn’t get. I will fondly remember the time we did have. I love him in a way that I don’t think I even understand quite yet. But at least I know now, that I won’t get to see him on this earth anymore – not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t. 

 

Saying Goodbye

Published July 25, 2017 by dividinguplife

“Dad I know you’re trying to fight when you feel like flying…..”

 

July 25th, 2016

My dad had surgery to remove the tumor from his colon. The prognosis of Stage 4 Colon Cancer happened suddenly, and without much warning. My dad wasn’t even supposed to need a colonoscopy for another year. You don’t need those until you’re fifty. He had just turned 49 that June. 

We weren’t allowed to see him that night, so I stopped by the hospital the following morning, before I went to work. It was my birthday. July 26th. I had just turned 31. 

I went around to the left side of the bed. I watched him for a moment as he slept. So peaceful and unaware of what the future held for him. I tried to find parts of myself in his face and his facial expressions. I wondered how much alike we were. I realized that I know nothing about him. Sadness washed over me when I understood that I was staring at a perfect stranger. 

I gently picked up his hand and held it in my own. He immediately woke up with a confused expression before recognition settled in. His smile lit up the room, and line of perfect white teeth gracing me with their presence. Hey sweetheart. I was the first person he saw after surgery. It’s something he has reminded me of many times over the past year. 

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I’ve watched my dad struggle for the past year. He has done holistic treatments, changed his way of eating, He has tried to live as much of his life as possible in the short time that he has left. He bought seasons tickets to a hockey game that he will never get to go to. He didn’t plan to die this soon, but God has other plans for him. 

Last week, things turned south very quickly. Sunday he was checked into a Hospice facility that will keep him comfortable until he transitions from this life to Heaven. He isn’t a religious person, but he’s spiritual. His girlfriend of five years has been tireless in her efforts to make sure that everything goes the way that it should, and that he is comfortable throughout the transition. She is amazing. 

Be prepared for what you are going to see when you walk in here. His girlfriend gave me fair warning. Not to fear, I have been through this death stuff before. First with my grandmother and then with my Uncle. The past seven years have been full of loss in my family. 

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I took an early lunch on Monday so that I could see him and assess how bad it is, and where he’s at in his transition. He’s breathing from his stomach rather than his chest. Bad sign. His feet and hands aren’t cold yet, so at least I know the blood isn’t traveling to his organs before everything shuts down. I felt his pulse. Nice, strong pulse. His breathing is heavy, but it isn’t labored yet. There’s still time. Maybe a week if we’re lucky. I racked my brain for the statistics of how long one can go without anything to eat or drink. I developed a raging headache and wondered if the methadone was giving him a headache and I was empathing it in. It would certainly be the first time I’ve been able to feel anything from him directly. I love you, dad. 

His girlfriend asked me to go into the sitting area and talk to her for a bit. Not long after she started talking, she stopped suddenly and tears sprang in her eyes. My god, you look just like him. I’ve heard that one before – at least a million times. I look just like a man that I hardly know anything about. The first 31 years of my life I have seen him a handful of times. We talked about other things regarding estate matters and what to expect. My dad didn’t think he would get this sick so quickly. He never finished his will. I don’t care either way. 

I looked at his girlfriend, debating on how to say what I wanted her to know. I had lunch with dad a few months ago. He told me that if he started to feel better, he was going to ask you to marry him. That’s how much you meant to him. 

She started sobbing at the table. I had no idea. Thank you so much for giving me that. She needed to know that this man, someone who has shut everyone out of his life, wanted to open it up enough to make her his wife. But life has been slowly seeping out of him. It will never happen. But at least she knows that he wanted it to. That’s the only gift I could give her. I will never be able to repay her for everything that she has done. 

My dad and I weren’t meant to have some awesome father-daughter relationship. I will never know what that is like. But it’s okay. I have had my closure with him, and he has explained his version of things. He told me that he wished he could wave a magic wand and take it all back. 

On June 29th I sent him a text to tell him I loved him and was thinking about him. He said he loved me too. That was the last time I will ever hear it from him. I’ve been able to tell my dad that I love him for a solid year. 

On Thanksgiving he brought me flowers and kissed the top of my head while standing at the kitchen sink with his arm around my shoulder. 

On Christmas he gave me a Visa Gift Card inside of a card that said “Thank you for everything that you do.” It was the first card or present I ever received from him. It was also my last. 

We had lunch one-on-one earlier this year. It was the first and last time we sat down together, alone and just …. talked. 

We had a lot of first-times that unknowingly turned into last-times. I will miss him. I will miss what we will never have. We had only begun to scratch the surface of our relationship, and now he’s unresponsive and unaware of what is going on. I still talk to him and hold his hand, hoping that he will at least know I’m there when he starts to transition. I know that I will see him again one day. And I’m just glad that if he has to leave this earth, he at least knows that I hold nothing against him. 

The Heat is On

Published July 17, 2017 by dividinguplife

Last weekend our AC went out. It happened to go out when it was 97 degrees outside. Humidity in North Carolina is atrocious. You can’t breathe outside. I called our landlord three times last Sunday, telling them my grandmother lives with me and has asthma. It did no good. By the time my husband figured out what the problem was, all of the stores were closed, so we had to wait until Monday morning for someone to come out. Saturday night it got up to 78 in the house (I keep the house at 70-71), and Saturday night the house got up to 86 degrees. I slept in the sunroom on Sunday night because it’s closed in with sliding glass doors that are screened, and we have a futon bed out there.

I thought I would be sad sleeping alone in the sunroom last Sunday, because I don’t like sleeping away from my husband. But, I realized that it was no different sleeping out there, than sleeping upstairs with him. We go to bed at different times (him much later than me), we stay on our side of the bed, we have our own comforters. It’s no secret that my husband does no cuddle, so there is no coming to bed to spoon. So, it made me sad to realize that sleeping away from him for the night didn’t bother me because it was no different than both of us sleeping in the bedroom. 

But, I knew this was how he was, going into our marriage. I discovered his lack of physical affection not long after we started dating almost five years ago. It’s still lonely a lot of the time – because we talk all of the time, and laugh and get along – but the physical aspect of our marriage is missing and will always be missing. I try not to complain, because he’s such an amazing guy, but I can’t help how it makes me feel sometimes.

Last night I had a dream about The Abuser. We were in a mall that was getting awfully close to closing time. I remember the food court was dark and it was just all-around eerie. Then suddenly we were in a field full of beautiful purple flowers, and I kissed him and said “I love you” and this his wife opened up some door to somewhere and saw us standing together.

I woke up feeling guilty, even though I can’t control my dreams of him, or what happens. Usually when I dream of him, it’s of his softer side (yes, abusers have softer sides) It may be because yesterday I got a text message from a number I didn’t recognize saying that they didn’t recognize my number and wanted to know who it was. I replied back with my name and asked them who they were. It was The Abuser’s wife. Apparently I wasn’t in the phone under my name. Maybe a different name? I don’t know. I can’t get away from her. I was just like “Oh, okay” and that was the end of it. But she bugs me so much, I just wish she’d walk off the edge of the earth with her homewreckin’ self. After nine years, I should be over what she did, but I don’t think you ever get over it.

We went to pick up my step-children on Saturday. We thought we would have them for three weeks, but my husbands ex-wife is a bitch and only sent enough medicine for my step-son for two weeks, knowing that we would have to give them back if he doesn’t have his medication. That was a bummer. We had a lot of plans for three weeks (originally we were supposed to have them for seven weeks, but she enrolled them in summer sports on purpose.) Now, we are going to take the kids to a water park on Saturday, but that’s about all of the time we will have to do something with them since I work during the week and my husband works until seven at night. 

Women like these two remind me of why I don’t get along with women.

 

Men Aren’t the Only Cheaters

Published July 9, 2017 by dividinguplife

Currently, my husband is watching YouTube videos on cheating wives/girlfriends that get caught. These guys get pretty inventive in how they catch their partners in the act, or how they reveal to their partner that they know. One guy was suspicious and flew his drone high above the house when his wife left one morning, and caught her walking to a CVS for her boyfriend to pick her up. 18 years of marriage, just gone. 

There’s so much stigma attached to cheating, and men that cheat. It isn’t talked about as much, when it’s the woman having an extramarital affair. 

My husbands ex-wife went to another city and fucked a guy she was “dating” on their seven year wedding anniversary. She took her kids with her and did God only knows what with them while she was with this man. My husband had planned to take her to dinner that night, stay in a hotel in town just to get away for the evening – but those things wouldn’t happen. She came home that afternoon, and her son let it slip up that mommy had been hanging out with another guy that day. Despite the proof that was there, my husband refused to admit what was going on, and they continued on with their marriage. A couple of months later, on New Years, while my husband was at work, she packed all of her things, took the kids and moved out of the house. She sent him a text message as she was on the way to her mom’s house, with their kids, three hours away. It destroyed him. 

I remember seeing posts on his Facebook where he said “I just want my wife back” and I sympathized with him. This was way before I had any romantic interest in him. I just knew that Blue Eyes brother was in a lot of pain, and I hoped that he and his ex-wife could work things out. I recall talking to him online briefly about it, and telling him how sorry I was. 

He drank a lot after she left. He went to a lot of bars with friends. He tried to numb the pain. He logged into some online account that was hers (my yearbook, I think) and read where she told all of these men how horrible he was in bed, how boring he was, how much of a piece of shit he was. It destroyed him. She made herself out to be the victim, meanwhile the man she was sleeping with while married to my husband, left her ass high and dry. The grass ain’t always greener, folks. 

My husband and I have been together four and a half years, and married for sixteen months. We’ve known each other for nineteen years. There are still times that the demise of his marriage affects him. He doesn’t think I can see it, but I can. I can see the pain in his eyes. Sometimes he will just want to talk about what she said and did to him – I guess so that I can give him confirmation that he isn’t horrible in bed, that he isn’t some asshole guy. Fact is, he really is fantastic in every department. 

He was married to a woman that worked twenty hours a week, sat on her ass and played video games all day. She never wanted to go on vacations, she never wanted to go out of town, she never wanted to do anything except play Call of Duty or what the hell ever. She didn’t cook, she didn’t clean. My husband worked 50-60 hours a week so that she didn’t have to work full-time. He got up with the kids when they were baby’s and fed them. I will never understand why she left him. He tells me all of the time that it hurt when she did it, but he is glad that she did, because now he see’s what a real marriage is supposed to be like. 

So, these videos are hard to watch, but I guess they are therapeutic in a way for my husband. I think it helps him realize that this hasn’t only happened to him – that there are a multitude of women responsible for the demise of relationships. 

He came home early from work on Tuesday, I guess because he was in the area and took an early lunch, but when he walked in the house, I was sitting in the chair, in the living room painting my nails and watching Riverdale. But as soon as he came in through the kitchen, I could see that he was looking for me. And I could see in his eyes that “look” … you know the one that someone has when they’ve been cheated on before? The unease of not knowing what the hell you’re going to find when you walk in. That’s how I know that he still has some kind of weird PTSD. Like he walks in and wonders if all of my shit will be gone, or if I will be locked in the bedroom with some man. I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t trust me – I think he was just hurt so bad, he almost dreads surprising me by coming home and not knowing what he’s going to walk into. But he has nothing to worry about. He never will. Not when it comes to me.