To the bone

Some of you might remember me referencing my biodad; we’re not, nor have we ever been, close. He is a misogynistic narcissist with anger issues who made childhood a really scary place. Left my mom, at 40, after twenty years of marriage and 2 years of cheating. He jumped into a far more affluent lane and has stayed there for the last three decades. There have been periods of no contact, but for the last 7 years we text a few times a year. Very superficial stuff; no relationship or closeness. He would lecture me about fire safety for an hour before dousing me with water if I was on fire; and think I deserved the injury. But I may now have to find out what I would do if it was him in peril, and I don’t fucking relish it, at all.

He beat cancer in 2006. One of the periods where we didn’t speak for years was due to him becoming irate over the fact that I didn’t visit him while he was in the hospital getting treatment in 2005. I lived 1000 miles away but was driving through FL going from MD to Key West. As it happened, our car broke down 45 minutes from his hospital in Orlando. We were stuck for days. And pretty poor. He wouldn’t pay for a cab fare. But I’m the terrible daughter in that story (change out terrible for fuckup and that covers the rest of the stories). Well, apparently the cancer is back. In his bone marrow. And I’m a lone blood relative. Where does the fact that I’ve been waiting for Karma to kick this bastard’s ass for the last 30 years fit into this scenario?

He hasn’t asked me yet. More test results should be in on Tuesday; but he’s probably headed to Tampa for treatment. This is the penultimate turn the other cheek moment. But you overestimate my kindness. This isn’t something I can do for him flat out. When I was in the accident 1.5 years ago, going through 9 major surgeries, he didn’t inquire how I was. At all. He’s been father in name only for 30 years. I’m hoping this is some diagnosis snafu that will be cleared up before the question ever formulates in his mind. His TX size ego will force self preservation to slam into his prefrontal cortex; I can already smell the fear in his texts. How do I tell my father I won’t save his life? Doesn’t that just make me a similar suited monster? And does he really think I’d say yes?

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