I was on the phone with my aunt yesterday and we chatted like we always do. She then broke the news to me that my father passed sometime last month.
If you have read any of my posts where I have written about the relationship between us, you would know that there was no real relationship.
My father was a mean bastard, who threw temper tantrums when he couldn’t get his way. His main target was usually me.
There was a time that I tried to make things work between us. As per character his bad side would come out.
One time my mother and him came to visit me. My mother left the room for something and he had the gall to ask me to talk to my mother about them getting back together. I looked at him and said, “what so you can hurt her again”.?That is the last time I can remember having a conversation with him.
It was funny, that when my aunt told me the news, I felt no grief or any sadness. It was as if she was talking about someone that I knew the name. It’s the same feeling when you hear that so and so died, you recognized the name, but never knew the person.
All day I have been walking around thinking it must be my new meds dulling my feelings. I still feel no grief. To be honest and frank, I am glad he’s gone! The first thing that came to my mind was this thought, “and the fool died”.
So dear reader, I ask you, should I feel guilty about not grieving my father’s death? Would like to hear your thoughts! Have you been in this type of situation?
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