Don’t Call Me DaughterJuly 10, 2007
Nothing like getting it all out there right away…
But this is one of the reasons I switched locations…
As most of you know, I lost my Mom when I was 17. I am forever damaged by the loss. I will never be a whole person no matter how hard I try because my life was changed forever the day she left me.
I have found ways to cope with the grief. Although difficult and painful, I deal.
I have found ways to vent and talk to her when I need her most and I truly have learned that even in death she is still with me every day.
But I can not get over one thing in particular no matter how hard I try. And try. And try.
More specifically, how his new relationship happened so quickly after my Mom’s death.
It couldn’t have been a month after she died and I get a phone call from my Dad’s “New Friend” and she went on and on about how excited she was to meet me.
You don’t let a ‘new friend’ call your daughter that soon after her mom dies…You just. Don’t.
And all I could think of was *gag*. (I was 17)
He’s been with her ever since. It’s going on 19 years.
Ironically, or not…The same amount of years my Mom has been gone.
She is now his family. And they dominate him more than I ever could. And I hate it.
He is all I have left and they have taken him over like some sort of swarm. Leaving me in the dust to fend for myself. Again.
I was very angry with him for years after that first phone call. I hated meeting her. I hated that he forced her on me and I hated them both. I hated the idea of their relationship and still to this day, I feel in my gut he was with her long before my mother died.
Mom told me he was cheating on her when she was going through chemo and radiation. I denied it for him. But she knew. So did I.
And yes, I have told him all of this.
When Mom died, Dad confessed that he wasn’t very nice to her and he made terrible mistakes while she was still alive and very ill. I comforted him in his bedroom telling him she knew he truly loved her…but it felt wrong…all the while, this “friend” was probably waiting for him to call.
I was sensitive to his greif and knew he was suffering but really, I wished it was him gone instead of Mom. Honestly, I wished it was me gone instead of Mom. I tried to be ‘gone’ and it didn’t work. I just wanted to end it all. I truly did. I had no reason to keep going.
But I did keep going. Years and years of hate and anger geared towards my father and his friend. Years and years of Why her? and Why not him? Years of therapy and meds and greif.
I hated him for years. I was angry and delicate and a motherless daughter, and all he was concerned about was…”Why don’t you like ‘her’?”
Then came the Pro, then years after came Farfallina.
When Fa was born, I wanted Dad in her life as much as possible. You grow when a child is born, and you are willing to bury all your unresolved shit for the sake of the kid. And you are willing to see your father as human. A human who makes mistakes and feels guilt and as his unconditional daughter you ignore it and bury it deep.
I unwillingly accepted her as “grandma” even though deep in my heart it felt fake and I knew it wasn’t true. And I resolved to teach Fa all about her real grandmother when the time was right.
But it was painfully obvious that Fa was not her real grandchild. For when the real grandchildren needed her…grandma was long gone to be with them. Even if I was promised her time first.
To this day it remains that way. I am second fiddle. So is Farfallina. And it pisses me off. Not because I want to be her daughter. I don’t…But because if you ‘say’ I’m just like your daughter, and constantly repeat that mantra, I think you should believe it yourself.
And recently, it was no different.
My Dad walked “their” daughter down the aisle and danced with “their” daughter to a very special song and it all felt wrong. And hurtful. “Their” daughter took My Dad and claimed him as her own. And didn’t even ask if I was okay with it. Or for that matter, didn’t even say “Fuck you, I’m borrowing him!”
I am heartbroken by the loss. Again.
I was shocked to discover his significant presence in their family. I didn’t notice how much of their lives have melded into his and how much he was a part of them and I wasn’t…I wasn’t even acknowledged as HIS daughter by this so-called grandma…I was “the live in boyfriend’s daughter”. But he was her daughter’s father. Disgusting.
So, I am angry. And hurting. Not even at them. But at Dad. They see Dad as theirs. And I don’t blame them. He’s a wonderful and charming man and funny and handsome and sensitive and everyone wants him as their dad. It’s always been that way.
But I do blame him. For letting them forget me so easily. For letting me slip through the cracks as his real daughter and for letting himself forget me even if it was just for that one evening.
How dare he?
Forget is only daughter.
My heart has been crying for weeks.
And this is why I’m trying to Gain some Balance in this new arena.
Someone has to look out for me.
Mom always used to say, “Take care of yourself, no one else will.”