Note from 11/23/16.
4th year without my dad and my children
Screaming inside so loudly I almost can’t hear anything outside me
The descent feels faster by the day…
Pain grips me so fiercely, I just can’t express myself.
I am mostly quiet now.
Yet what happens in my life writes a story in my flesh.
Pain is never silent. Suffering is never quiet.
I am mostly quiet now though.
My body and brain scream in agony while
I’ve been well trained in the utter futility of making any sound
I must beg your forgiveness for
the extra wrinkles aging me at the speed of five years of heartbreak,
and a lifetime of accepting
(I am mostly quiet now, though)
The permanently furrowed brow
The way my skin almost shrieks aloud now when touched
The dead weight behind my eyes
The way my once-smiling mouth pulls further down at the edges each day
(But I am mostly quiet now.)
For the way my brain screams at too much noise
Yet weeps at the unending unnatural shrieks of silence…
Resounding with pathetic pleas to matter
I plead daily for mercy for the weight of my existence, the curse of my birth.
I know only these things:
No one should have to spend a lifetime begging for love, desperate for mercy, pathetic for humanity.
Not even one…
and I am mostly quiet now.
News that my dad had died suddenly and unexpectedly while on vacation, was shocking. He was 75, so it wasn’t utterly untimely, but certainly unexpected. By all accounts, he had been quite healthy! He’d actually been for a checkup just a few weeks earlier and had called me afterward to tell me everything looked good….
From the minute I got that phone call on the evening of March 23, 2012 from a sister who hadn’t spoken to me since 1998, I was not only emotionally beyond grief, I was immediately thrust into a state of actual shock. My body literally stopped functioning normally. I was chronically nauseous, unable to eat, and instantly began what would turn into a three month bout with Montezuma’s revenge. My brain seemed to slow considerably and rendered itself almost incapable of processing information.
It was like moving underwater…everything fuzzy, slow, and out of focus..and movement itself felt like pulling weights far beyond my strength…
I could write a dissertation on the physical, mental, and emotional effects this had on me, but that would be nothing extraordinary. Grief is overwhelming. It starts immediately in your heart and over the next however long, it spreads to your stomach, skin, mind, brain, soul, and life, like a virus inhabiting every tiny piece of everything. However, what I need to do here is document all the oddities surrounding his sudden death. Somewhere, somehow, these facts and strange circumstances must be documented.
The wolves, my sister and mother, (starting with my estranged sister’s phone call informing me), knew this would level me in every imaginable way, and pounced immediately. In fact, hindsight has opened wide on all the zillion ways the wolves planned it all…from that very first phone call.
The very night before he leaves to go home from his week long California vacation, he randomly tells my sister whom he’s not at all close to and whom lives in Washington state, precisely where his will is in his house in Michigan – a house (and father) she’s not been to visit since 1989. Literally about 12 hours between his life and death he tells her where his will is!
Mother offers to fly straight to Michigan saying she wanted to help me with my two teenaged daughters during this terrible time. Mother, again who’s not spoken to me in 14 years, flies straight from California to Michigan (she resides in Ohio) to “help me and my children” through this.
6. Mother(who divorced my dad in 1973 and married her wealthy lover in 1976 -the man whom she cheated on my dad with during their marriage) wants to stay at my dad’s house, even though my children and I are emotionally unable to step foot in it yet. I agreed to allow her to stay there. After all, she hadn’t spoken to me in 14 years, my dad was abruptly dead, and she’s actually suddenly being kind enough to come out of her way to help inconsolable me and my devastated children, right?
7. Once mother is physically in my dad’s house, she’s very difficult to reach. She ignores my phone calls for hours on end and in my state of shock, twice in the first 2 days of her stay at my dad’s house, I freak out, frantically thinking maybe she’s died also…such is the difficulty in reaching her by telephone.
8. My paternal aunt (who’s not spoken with my mother since an argument they had in December of 1987) is highly suspicious of my dad’s sudden death and my mother coming to Michigan “for me” because she’s acutely aware of how my mother’s treated me all my life as well as the horrendous way she treated my dad while they were married.
In addition, it’s taking California an unusual amount of time to release and send my dad’s body home. She’s freaking out over this. I continually try to reassure her that I’m sure it’s just because California is heavily populated and slower than we in the midwest would anticipate.
9. I mention my aunt’s discomfort at the lengthy time to obtain my dad’s body to mother in conversation and my (calm, cool, never ruffled) mother goes berserk! She immediately feigns getting all choked up at the “insinuation that she would have ever physically harmed my dad”. She’s just “so deeply hurt that anyone would ever accuse her of doing such a thing…!”
I was caught quite off guard over this unwarranted and bizarrely random reaction (from my very typically unemotional mother) as no one had suggested anything like that! My aunt simply was frustrated with the length of time California was taking to ship her brother’s body to another state! No one was suggesting mother had harmed (or killed?!) my dad…. I reassured mother at length that that was not what anyone was suggesting!!
10. After 2 days in my dad’s house, mother calls me to ask me “Baby, where did daddy keep his gun?”
Huh? What?!??!? Literally, in my entire 42 years – 25 spent seeing my dad at least daily – my dad had never owned a gun. EVER! In fact, in my entire life, I’d never known my dad to own a gun , discuss guns or firearms of any kind, much less, own one. Being that my mother led my father on that she loved him from the time she left him in 1973 until the day he died, she would have known my dad never owned a gun – EVER. And here she is acting all extremely nonchalant and asking me all sweet like where he keeps his gun!?
I was astounded… This woman had been telling me repeatedly from the minute he died how she “knew more than I thought she did”(which truly, never made a lick of sense to me what on earth she was implying, but I just nodded and said ok every time she repeatedly told me that intentionally vague and mysterious “knowing” statement). This woman who had intentionally remained close to my dad for all my life and had amped that closeness up after she threw me away in order to maintain a relationship with my kids without having to speak at all to me, didn’t know my dad NEVER OWNED A GUN? …And wanted to know where he kept this fictitious gun we both knew didn’t exist???
Fucking bizarre!!! Even in my state of shock, I couldn’t wrap my head around her even asking me such a thing when I knew unequivocally that she knew (and she knew that I knew!) that my dad never owned a gun in his entire life…
I expressed this absolute amazement at her question to her, reminding her of what I knew she already knew…that he’d never owned a gun in his life and her reply was (very calmly), Ohhhhh….he didn’t? I thought he’d mentioned buying one once a few years ago…?
11. My estranged sister spent weeks feigning compassion and “concern”, saying “you just need to focus on your children – I’ll take care of everything“, while blatantly manipulating me to NOT go to the estate attorney’s office with her to discuss my dad’s will…and the subsequent lies I found out she’d told me since that initial phone call….
Anyway…all of this is extremely coincidental since my anal retentive military dad purchased $200 will-making software and followed it to the letter of the law, but never had it signed.
So…we had to agree upon a will that my dad allegedly created, but allegedly followed all the steps except for the part where he signed it and made it legal.
I never argued this. I was in shock… I was overwhelmed with his sudden death and all the knowledge my estranged sister presented about dying in Michigan and Michigan wills…
I never argued this will they “knew all about”. I was never interested in what money he left behind, as there was no amount of money which could have replaced him in my life.
There’s actually so many more strange circumstance and lies around my dad’s death, but I’m unfortunately unable to phrase it clearly in the typed word, but I’ll leave this with what she said at the estate attorney’s office when the attorney expressed her compassion for our grief. In the attorney’s office, I still couldn’t stop crying and when the lawyer went to tell us what was left to us financially , I just said…I dont even care about what he left.. MY DADDY IS DEAD.
And my sister spoke up and said, I DO!!!! …I’m here to hear about the money!
From my Book – From Charm to Harm and Everything else in Between with a Narcissist! @ https://www.amazon.com/Charm-Harm-Everything-Narcissist-Narcissistic/dp/1523820179/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1468595784&sr=1-1&keywords=from+charm+to+harm Many, if not all Narcissists completely get away with their psychological terrorism and they basically murder their targets self-esteem, mind, soul AND their integrity with their backstabbing and ‘smear campaign!’ Be it the bullying, […]
via Let’s call it what it really is SLANDER – the Narcissist’s attack on our integrity with backstabbing and the SMEAR campaign. We are damned if we do or damned if we don’t respond but basically the Narcissist gets away with abusive behavior and people believe them and WE are left having to fight to get our integrity back? — After Narcissistic Abuse
Daddys go on vacation and never ever come back.
You don’t get to say a real goodbye.
People lie about death.
People lie about life.
Silence is the worst form of cruelty.
People break and they can’t be put back together again.
People enjoy hurting and punishing you.
They inflict so much pain, it’s beyond unbearable.
And sometimes there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it.
I was afraid to answer. Scared of possible cruelty of which any more I just can’t handle…scared of more pain at her cruelty… yet scared something was wrong or worried she might actually need her momma like she had so many times before this nightmare started.?
Terrified to answer. Petrified to not answer.
My breath stopped somewhere in my body when I saw her beautiful face show up on my phone screen, almost as though my brain had momentarily forgotten how to tell my lungs to breathe.
Like the day she was born…
…Like a million days between December 23,1998 and the spring of 2012 when I’d just look at her and feel as if my heart might stop beating from the sudden surge of so much love and adoration.
And her voice… her laugh… her words.. her imagination…her sense of humor… her intelligence …
All continued to stun me for the first 13 years of her life.
She may deny I’m her momma now, but once upon a time, for 13 straight years, I had the most utterly incredible daughter who’s ever existed and being the best momma I possibly could to her and her sister was my entire world.
I love you Savannah Grace DeDeaux.
You would have turned 81 today and I would give almost anything to be sharing this day with you…
I’ve contemplated so much about your life, your character, your loves, and your death over the past five years.
I didn’t only lose the greatest dad ever on the day you died. I lost my entire family. I lost my faith in the world. I lost the only safe haven I’d ever had or ever known. I lost my best friend. I lost my only life advocate. I lost my only support system. I lost my heart. My spirit withered and my soul grew bleak. I lost my children. I lost the last shred of innocence I had clung desperately to for so long, in spite of so much.
And far worse than any of that, in the midst of that mass pain and confusion, my children lost their truth.
Evil disguised as “family” stepped in and wreaked utter chaos on what was left of my life after you died. Ripped our little family…shredded our truth…stole my spirit and stomped on my heart.
It aches inside my chest that our last face-to-face conversation was you apologizing to me. You owning the mistakes you made talking behind my back, exaggerating things that bothered you. No apology was necessary. I know you truly were just concerned and scared for me. You…you, who had seen first hand my struggles. You, who had watched me fight to overcome more adversity and abuse than anyone should ever have to face in one lifetime. You, my last touchstone of truth and its irrefutable proof.
You overreacted and you grossly exaggerated, but I knew it was only because you sincerely cared. I knew it stemmed from genuine concern and a deep desire to protect me from myself and the inner battles which still raged on inside me long after I escaped the actual abuse.
You knew it all. The lies couldn’t have worked their total destruction on my children and the life we’d built as long as you were alive. Evil saw its opportunity and pounced- destroying me and taking our beloveds prisoner.
I owe you an apology. A million apologies.
I’m sorry I allowed them to lie and deny you the veteran’s burial you deserved. I’m sorry I let my guard down and fell so totally apart that their evil was able to destroy what meant everything to you in your lifetime- our little family network. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop them. I’m sorry my children can’t acknowledge truth anymore. I’m sorry I allowed the family built on the strength of your back and good character to be demolished by greed and evil.
You deserved a veteran’s burial. The Air Force was so important to you. Your time serving this country meant so much to you and shaped you into exactly you – the man who would some day become father and best friend to his youngest child. I can only surmise they lied to me about that because it was more expensive. Ironically, I paid personally for your entire burial and funeral and wouldn’t have cared the extra cost, had I known they were lying. I wanted so much to give you the exact burial you always told me you’d wanted.
I just couldn’t fathom they’d lie…even then.
I’m sorry I didn’t have the sense to fact check their claims regarding the circumstances of your death or the details of your funeral. I’m sorry I believed their lies and false claims of love for you (and me) and allowed them to compromise you having the burial you always wanted.
Daddy, they lied to me about where you died. They lied about what time you died. They lied about the veteran’s service information. They lied about the estate laws. I’m sure I haven’t scratched the surface of all the lies they told me after you were gone…
Literally from the minute they called to inform me you’d died, their lies began. In hindsight, I imagine that’s why they waited 5 hours to even tell me you’d died. It must have been a race for them to prepare their stories and agree on what lies to tell me and why.
Then, in my shock, they started using my grief and confused state to start lying to my children- your grandchildren…
You deserved me to hold myself together at least enough that I could have combatted their evil, using the strength you’d shown me all my life. I should have known to fact check every word they said.
I should’ve known better than to trust them alone with the children we’d spent 15 years protecting and loving and teaching to be good people.
I’m sorry your grandchildren chose to believe lies, chose to tell lies, and were pawns and victims of such unmitigated evil. I’m sorry that I’ll never be able to share all the truths of how deep those lies went over my life…and over your entire life even.
Everything you did for me and for my children in your lifetime, you certainly deserved better…so very much better.It’s your birthday. I miss you.
I’ll never stop wishing the truth mattered or still stood even a chance. You were the one who kept me believing that integrity and truth was important no matter what choices others make when I was surrounded by liars and abusers.
I know if you can see what’s happened and is still happening every day, that your happy heart is broken; that your easy smile has vanished. I know you cry at what they’ve done and your unwitting part in it.
I forgave you before you ever apologized. You were a pawn in it all too. This became more apparent after you were gone, that they’d played you too…and I know you must regret that more than anything, if you can see what’s happened from beyond this realm.
And I have to believe you can see.
I’m sorry I allowed them to break your heart and my life even after yours had ceased beating. . I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger when you died. I’m sorry I, as usual, expected to be safe with the very people who’d already shown you and I repeatedly who and what they really were. You always warned me to watch my back after they’d shown their true faces, but I never wanted to fully believe such depth of evil could exist on top of the evil they’d shown me all my life…. not during a crisis like your sudden and unexpected death.
I couldn’t have imagined their evil would extend that far. Not then. Not at that horrific time for your grandchildren and me.
I should’ve understood that they would see your death and my vulnerability as nothings but an opportunity to advance their hateful ulterior motives.
I should have known they’d not suddenly have a heart or conscience or genuine compassion even then…
I don’t know what happens to us after we leave this life. I only hope you’re able to some day get the truth that matters delivered into the hearts of the two girls who mattered to us the most.
I’m playing your music all day and honoring your memory.
I hope to see you very soon.
All my love always,
Or maybe a glass of wine?
To numb the endless pain?
To ease the rips in your heart
that echo endlessly through your brain?
I whispered out loud to no one
talking to myself
as I limped, dragging my way
through the dense empty air
of forced existence
to the kitchen
for a senseless glass of hopeless hydration.
No, then their lies might become truth
and what if that destroys you?
snaps my inner voice.
And what if it doesn’t?
wails my annihilated heart
…the loudest, most persistent
nonexistent voice of all.