Yesterday was a rubbish day for various reasons, including a very frustrating trip to B&Q with my Mum which left me thinking I had chosen the worst time ever to give up alcohol!
Last night I got a call from my Mum to say that she had been notified that my Dad had died. My parents split up in 1990 when I was 9 and I have written about the relationship I had with my Dad previously here. When she told me I genuinely felt nothing. No loss, no sadness, nothing. My youngest sister is currently on holiday so I volunteered to make the call while Mum called my middle sister. Their reactions surprised me a little but since they belong to them I’m not going to go into them on here. The message was that the executor of the will had to speak to the three of us since we are his children.
My Dad wasn’t well off as far as I know but we were asked if we wanted anything from his house. I find it strange that after 23 years someone might think that I might want a toaster or a washing machine, but the law is what it is and I politely declined. We asked if we were mentioned in his will and the response was “You were at one point but not now” I’ve never had a penny from him or wanted anything from him and it makes me wonder why the change was made, suppose I will never know now.
The whole situation is really odd. He was still my Dad although we’ve had no relationship for so long but I still feel nothing. Lots of lovely friends and family have sent messages of support and love but I feel almost fraudulent accepting them because I don’t feel I should. People keep asking if I’m ok and I promise you all, I really am.
He seems to have had a hard time with his health over the last few years and by the sounds of it he is out of pain and I’m glad for him. I won’t be going to his funeral as I don’t see any reason to. I said goodbye to him a long time ago and have moved on and won’t go back.
So for a final time, Good bye Dad.