I cleaned out all the closets that still held my grandparents clothes (if you don't know, I moved into my deceased grandparents' house a year ago). My father was supposed to help me a month ago but never did. Deciding to get rid of it all in small trips I started today. A family member spied the Jeep next to the house and had to find out what was going on (family is nosy). She began to help me and another family member, one I like and didn't mind, showed up. She even offered her van to make a larger trip to waste management (ie- dump). My father showed up as I drove the van closer. He stepped into the room and immediately was a nuisance. I swear to Christ, I don't know how everything seems to work out for him. Within five minutes of walking in, "supervising" and not helping, he tells the cousin we like to take a coat, to try it on. As she did she found a wallet safety pinned in the arm of the coat. Mind you, I'd already checked every goddamned pocket on every garment. There was a missing sum of money in the house, in a coat, and my great aunt (who my grandmother had confided in) told me to keep my eyes open. Damned if it wasn't in the sleeve. Damned if my father didn't grab it and disappeared outside to count it. He claimed it was $1200 though he can never be trusted. It was apparently all the money she earned working for the school system years ago.
I cleaned up the house, I fixed it up and pay for its upkeep; I cleaned it out of all their clothes, straightened out three rooms and every closet. I won't see a penny of that money though my grandmother wished for me to have it (well, my brother and I). We're guessing it was close to $3000. It's sad, it would nearly get me out of debt while my father just put it in the bank with all the other money that he was supposed to give to his sons, the true benefactors of my grandfather's estate.
It is sad that even those who love you conditionally (blood kin) loves money more. Love is a very weak word, as I've seen it. I almost wish I believed in a Hell so I'd find comfort that he'd burn for eternity for his atrocities (trust me, this is the least of them). It is for reasons like this that I cannot believe in a benevolent God.
May a true god damn him.
I cleaned up the house, I fixed it up and pay for its upkeep; I cleaned it out of all their clothes, straightened out three rooms and every closet. I won't see a penny of that money though my grandmother wished for me to have it (well, my brother and I). We're guessing it was close to $3000. It's sad, it would nearly get me out of debt while my father just put it in the bank with all the other money that he was supposed to give to his sons, the true benefactors of my grandfather's estate.
It is sad that even those who love you conditionally (blood kin) loves money more. Love is a very weak word, as I've seen it. I almost wish I believed in a Hell so I'd find comfort that he'd burn for eternity for his atrocities (trust me, this is the least of them). It is for reasons like this that I cannot believe in a benevolent God.
May a true god damn him.