Angry Sunday.......Part III

This new woman came into a home with all of the belongings of another woman all around her.

My father never even emptied my mom’s things from their closet.
I used to go to my mom’s closet and smell her clothes when no one was around but it never ever occurred to me that I should take them away for this woman moving in.
I was a kid who just never thought about it to be honest.
I was too self absorbed but as a 20 something when I realized all of this I apologized to her for that. (She thankfully understands and blames my father which makes us both giggle.)
How the hell could my father not think to do that though?

So there she was a new wife and mother and having to box everything up of another woman. That had to suck and make her feel terrible.
She didn’t throw a thing away.
She felt it wasn’t her place.
She kept it all for us in her home to have some day.
That day had come.

So that brings me to what made me angry 41 yrs later while going through all these boxes of things from my past. Some of these things I had never seen, some I hadn’t seen in 41 yrs.
Last week I found things in these boxes that opened all those wounds I thought I had buried or forgotten.
I sat at the dining room table going through these things and wept and then got angry, really angry. I was 13 years old again and I felt all those things that I thought were gone.

The funeral thank you notes that I filled out but they were not addressed, were at the top of one box. I saw my tiny little 13 yr old penmanship and I think that just really got to me.
It was just signed, “The Malizia Family.”
I assume these were extra’s since they did not have any other writing inside of them.
It brought all that anger back that I had for my father to the surface.
How could he do that to me?
How could he be so callous to not see that my mom just died and that he could lift a finger, because I too was mourning?
It reminded me of the notes from my Aunt on how to make my fathers meals and recipes.
How not to make my father mad.
I got angry because why the hell wasn’t anyone concerned about how I was feeling?
I got angry because why the hell didn’t my father ever take us out to dinner instead of demanding I cook?
I got angry that all of my sisters care was my responsibility and to this day she resents me if I even say something as innocent as, “can I get you something to drink?”
I got angry when I read all the condolence notes to my father and how they asked him to bring the girls by for a weekend getaway or for dinner and he never did.
I got angry because everyone gave my younger sister a hug and sympathy and gifts because her mom died. While I stood and watched and served them coffee and pastries.
I got angry because my father was remarried within 7 months.
He was busy immediately dating and looking for a new wife but never had the time for his girls who so needed his attention.
I was angry that he thought ignoring it all would make it fine and/or go away.
I want to believe he was in mourning but if he was it wasn’t what one does in mourning to most of us.
I am angry that he never talked to us about any of it even when we asked but would instead spout religious rhetoric.
Now as an adult I understand the whispering that I heard by Aunts and Uncles about Dad’s behavior. I get it. But he is my father. I love him. He makes me angry. He should have known better but he didn’t.

I thought I had let all that anger go long long ago.
Apparently not buried far enough on that day.
I know in the past I did try to talk to him about all of this.
He doesn’t see that he did anything wrong.
And there is no point in trying to tell him anything else.
I was the oldest and I was a girl.
I am sure if I had had an older brother it would still be my responsibility because I was a girl.
He said and I quote, “I got you another mother didn’t I? She's wonderful isn't she?”
To him that was the answer.

Truth be told maybe it kind of was.
My new mom was kind, understanding and did the best she could.
She never asked us to forget our mom. She bought her flowers on mothers day and brought us to her grave. She did all kinds of nice things like that.
She too was overwhelmed herself with her new life.
She and I have talked about this a lot over the years.
She understands and she knows my father so she really gets it all.
He makes her angry too.

I turned out fine.
I wasn’t harmed or beaten. I was loved and in fact spoiled with love.
I had all the material things I ever needed as well.
I grew up with more sisters and a house full of laughter.
So life wasn’t so bad.
I surely don’t mean to imply that it was in anyway.
I would like to think if he knew better he’d have done better.
He never did anything from a bad place. He thought he was doing the right thing.
I realize now as an adult I just needed something more than he could give me that I had to find on my own. I did. And that only helped me grow and be strong.

But that particular Sunday while reading all those things it just came flooding back to me.
I felt all the pain, the stress, the loneliness, the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy that sometimes still haunts me to this day. Thankfully it was just that Sunday.

So that is what made me angry on that particular Sunday.

Now I will go back to being my old smart ass happy self on this blog and put that back where it belongs.