In 2011 I knew it was bad for my father when he needed me to sign a letter stating I helped him live. He was now going on food stamps. It was so odd to me that this was a reality. I went to visit him and the house was a mess. It was no where near the condition to be able to sell.
his was a tough job, tougher than anything I had imagined.
I did move in with him and I took to the task. It was the most manual labor I had ever done in my life. I got cut hands, chapped skin. I was determined to get things in order so my life could move forward. I obviously did it out of the ACOA child guilt.
So the weirdest moment in all of this is when I get the house ready to be put on the market and my dad is now asking me for money. Seriously? I just busted my ass paid all your outstanding utilities and now you want money?
Then came the realization I was now my mother to him. I was like there is no way I am living that out. I searched for a sublet and moved on a rainy Memorial Day Weekend. I left him an itemized list of the expenditures and he told me he would deduct $700 a month rent. This from a man whose mortgage was $500. Now that is some amazing math.
He tried to tell my friends helping me move what an awful person I was and one reminded him she was there too. Rewriting the truth is never a great idea. How about this advice for my father. Divorce your Story and Marry your truth.
What a sad lost man. I did not talk to him after that day. He called my cell in November to tell me he was done and never to call him. He called me he got VM as I had the stomach flu.
Sending you love and light. My karmic ties are done there, end of story.