A New - New Life in The Next Chapter: 2020-2021?

Merry Christmas!

The day started off great. A ton of cheer and happy moments. I even dropped off gifts for my parents to open today. Instead of saying “thank you” they decided that it was about time… I wonder what she might have given us this time…” The last time I got my father a gift, he was obviously unsure, like yesterday. Then he was presently surprised.

Turns out this time? I wasted my time and money. I don’t usually give them anything because they don’t want me to spend money on them. They want me to spend it on my kids.

This year, I decided with the help of my children to give each of my husband and my parents all the same journal that has writing prompts to tell your children or grandchildren about you, your parents, and grandparents. Things like what it was like growing up and stuff. My father’s reaction was “I’m not filling this out!” then he closed it and tossed it to the side like I’m a piece of shit. My mother had the gumption to tell me about his actions as if it was an “I told you so!” towards me.

Why is it so bad that I want to know about my parents? That I want to share stories of my parents and their parents to my children? What is so horrible that he thinks I can’t handle it? Should I come out and say, “WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU MAKE TIME FOR ME WHEN I WAS A KID? WHY CAN’T YOU MAKE TIME FOR ME NOW? AM I EVEN WORTH YOUR EFFORTS? WHY THE HELL DID YOU EVEN HAVE ME?”

Not like he had time for me when I was a kid anyway. Why did he decide to have kids if he didn’t want to be a father? I’m writing my parents off as part of my new life. What the hell is the point of having parents who don’t love you unconditionally? Who wants to see you miserable, but are somehow proud of your accomplishments that they think they had anything to do with when they weren’t there for you most of your life?

What’s the difference between them making time and healing our relationship, or making it worse? If it’s going to get worse, then I may as well say the hell with them and act like they’re already dead. They sure as hell weren’t happy for me getting married to my best friend. They didn’t seem happy that I stopped driving a school bus or opted to keep my kids home this year from school.

Maybe I’m the selfish one? Maybe wanting my questions answered is too much? Maybe thinking my parents would want to spend time making a memento for my children was too much to ask of them? I would have loved to have gotten those same books filled out by my grandparents if I had the chance. Instead, I guess I’ll live my life with parents who never wanted me, and have to accept that. I’ll tell my father on his death bed that he never acted like a father to me. He was never there for me. He never made time for me, and I sure as hell never felt like a priority to him or my mother.

The only time they were there for me was when I was pregnant. The rest of the time, I was on my own. My father paid for my rent and things when I was struggling, but he never had time for me. He never made time for me.

I’ll never be the daughter my parents wanted. I’ll never stand up to their expectations of Donna-Lou who was stillborn and deformed. I should accept it as part of my new life. A life that I surround myself with people who love me and have time for me. My parents are not part of the small list.

I might be changing my blog location for new entries… I’m still on the fence. I’m working on something new starting tomorrow. It’s my birthday. I’m disowning my mentally abusive parents.