Dear Blog … 09.22 – 12/10/18



Ras Boot In!

Yesterday whilst minding my own business, l suddenly get a call from my ”’Uncle”’, my Father’s Brother. As is atypical to their way, there are no niceties [l have always wondered if he too is on the spectrum, there is a lot of probables to support that theory!] The Uncle didn’t disappoint either.

“Alright fella, your Father is dying and what are you doing about it?” He asked in a very heavy Irish accent.

“In so far as what do you mean, ‘what l am l doing about it?’ What can l do about it? He has a very good package of care in that many people would love to have. l cannot stop the man dying you know?”

“You know l didn’t mean that!”

“No, l didn’t actually, you very specifically coined your greeting as to what am l doing about it, like l have some gift that can cure?” I snapped.

I do not have a good relationship with this man, and less so since the entirety of my Father’s family have found some grim satisfaction in attacking my Sister and l since the whole health debacle kicked off in July.

“When was the last time you visited your Father is what l meant?”

“What’s it to you? From memory you saw your Brother last month as in September, and l saw him on the 15th, l think you saw him on the 23rd, so l saw him less than a month ago.”

“Well when are you seeing him again, he is dying?”

“Well he is NOT dead is he? Because of the care package in which means now he doesn’t even have to think about taking care of himself, his health albeit still deteriorating is much better than it was as little as 2 months ago, when l thought he wasn’t going to last the week. So whilst yes he is still dying, he is yet not dead and as such is in much better shape than he was. Suze and l have a journey planned in for the weekend after this.”

“Hardly good enough is it? Have you forgotten he is your Father?”

“How often have you seen him since the 23rd, what journeys do you have planned in?”

“That’s got nothing to do with you!”

“Ditto pal. I will see my Father when l can, like you in Wales, l am in Kent, and whilst l am closer to him than you, even you can appreciate the time it takes to get there. Also, l am a non-driver so therefore l have to await when Suze is willing to give up her free time, plus unlike you l am not that wealthy and it is expensive to do the journey too often.”

“THIS is your Father!!” He shouted.

“Yes, not quite sure of your point, however – l think l understand the following. I hear fuck all from any of you for 35 years, then my Father is dying, then you all creep out of the woodwork like the caring family you are not, and start preaching to both my Sister and myself about your sibling who is so terribly ill and how you think his children don’t do enough for him. At which point did you actually physically help with organising the superb care package he has in place to help with his health? Where were you then? My point is simple, YES, this is my Father, not yours.”

“You are jeapordising your future financial security you know?!” he snapped again.

“Oh wow, so my Father who has this Groundhog Day memory, in so far as he forgets everything within ten minutes of someone talking to him has been bad mouthing me to you hasn’t he, and you in your co called caring role have rung me up to put the boot in! Like you did to my Sister a few weeks back? But now you are actually threatening me?? Incredible – look for the record, Dad’s ability to switch any kind of power of attorney was lost weeks ago. I am in the Will, l am an executor in his estate, l will follow what wishes he has, as indeed will my Sister. My Sister is currently the one taking care of his paliative care side, and then when sadly my Dad has passed l will then become the live in to his house to take care of everything in a clinical objective unemotional manner. You astound me with your concerns. For years you didn’t even speak to your Brother because he was so difficult, well listen up buddy l am his Son, and l know how bloody difficult it is! But what l don’t need is more family just putting the boot in for fun.”

“I ring my Father three times a week, he answers the same questions exactly the same way, my call each time is 95 seconds long. He doesn’t say anything nice mostly during those 95 seconds. My Sister sees him twice  a week, and he doesn’t once say anything nice to her and she is his favourite – hardly motivating is it? My father said face the facts three months ago, and that is what l am doing, l will see him when l see him, and face the facts that he is dying, but also l will remember that he didn’t want his family involved and l will remember and regret that l thought l would notify his family of the situation, and as said since doing that with all the crap you have dished out, l really regret that.”

“Now in the words of the great Socrates …. Fuck OFF! Don’t call me again in my lifetime!”

I feel that my Father’s family may have switched tactics and are now in full launch to attack me having failed with my Sister a few weeks ago. This stems from the fact that his family are trying to get into his Will, that they wanted to have him looked after in North Wales under the guise of being closer to family, but were just going to place him into a nursing home.

I feel that the time ahead may be rockier yet.

Bloody families, who needs them?

Dear Blog ……

2 thoughts on “Dear Blog … 09.22 – 12/10/18

    1. Hey Britchy, absolutely the time to move him anywhere has now passed and whilst families can be both a curse and a bane to humankind, this lot l think were used to create the very words themselves! 🙂

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