Copious amounts of times I’ve expressed my criticism to my father on his displays of favoritism towards my older sister.
He was an alcoholic for years and while he played the victim to gain everyone’s sympathy, I pitied him and told him how I’m ashamed to be considered his daughter.
One morning, when I was at my boyfriend’s apartment, my sister called. She said my father got into a bad car wreck, as a result of driving while intoxicated.
I suspected she was gently trying to tell me that he was “in a terrible accident” and died. My heart and my stomach didn’t sink. Of all the feelings I felt, none of them consisted of sadness, worry, or concern. I didn’t care.
I remember when I was younger, I would refer to him by his first name because I had so much disrespect for him.
He is an example of everything I hate in a person.
He is truly worthless.
