Eventually, enough is enough

I'm tired of FaceBook trying to micromanage my profile.  I'm done.  This morning FB removed my Red G Mama logo from my profile picture spot, and left a message telling me all my other friends had their "faces" in their profiles and that I should, too.  Hello?  If FB had looked they would see a huge picture of my face in my banner, lookin' at'coo!  I just changed that to something else.  Feel free to click on my FB profile.  I believe there's a link on the left side of this blog.  I believe the issue at hand is that FB has made that little spot where they want you to put your face as "public" space, thus they want your face there, nothing else.  I uploaded my logo to the profile picture spot, and bingo, it showed up.  Less than 30 minutes later, it was gone, again.  I waited for a few hours, bitched about it in a FB post, and uploaded my logo in the profile picture spot again, and bingo again, it showed up.  We'll see how long it stays this time.

Meanwhile, I'm deleting as many personal FB posts and pictures as I can every day, other than those that relate to Just Lavendar, Friday Night Blues, Breakfast with the Blues, or Red G Designs, my Etsy store.  If you want personal stuff, you'll have to find it here or contact me personally.  My blog is public.  Here I say what I want and post pictures of what I want, with nobody censoring me.  So, I will be a regular blogger, rather than the occasional blogger I have been in the past.  Follow me here, just check the box over there in the right column, and you can stay in touch.  You can comment on anything I blog here, too.

I encourage you to manage your own way of communicating, rather than allowing a faceless, I say that with irreverent emphasis, entity, such as FACEbook, to dictate what you say, where you decide to upload your pictures or graphics, etc.  I'll promote my little ventures there and that's all.  I'll like your posts and pictures, perhaps comment on them occasionally, but I'm done with being managed by FaceCrack's agenda.  Yah, I'm a bit peeved.

On another subject, I think the hotter weather is wreaking havoc with my body.  I thought warm dry weather was supposed to be easier on our arthritic joints?  I'm not so sure at this point.  Maybe it's the fibro, I don't know.  I've been using Thrive products for about a month, and I've found it helps manage how I feel in several ways, but with this heat, I'm miserable.  I have a little window a/c here by my desk, but my body is not happy, no matter what right now.  I'll hang in there, drink as much water as I can remember to drink, and throw in a late night walk (after the heat dies down) as often as I can.  Seriously thinking of playing hooky from market this week if the heat is here again.  When it gets over 90 degrees, I hurt.

I'd love to share a few days sample of Thrive with you.  Let me know if you'd like to try it.  You can learn more about it at my website. If you'd like full access to my site, just let me know which email address you'd prefer, and I'll send you login credentials.

 

 I'll be blogging here fairly often.  I talk about all kinds of things and you're more than welcome to chime in, follow my blog, or share it.

Reuse, Renew, Recycle and REFRESH

Happy New Year!  If I've ever been ready for a change in my life, this is the year.

I could go on and on about all the crap 2013 has thrown my way, but instead, I'll submit that I am grateful for the lessons you taught me, the joys and unbelievable amounts of love you threw my way, the tragic disappointments and heartache I endured at your discretion, the moments of sheer ecstasy that tore my heart wide open until I thought I would die from so many intense feelings, but I didn't.  2013, I can't say I'll miss you, but I'll say I'm a better person for having survived you.  You were a fucking bitch.  But, once again, I win.

It's a new year.  A time for refreshing one's soul and opening the "windows" and allowing the light and love that surrounds me inside.  A time to throw away fear and embrace the possibility that I am exactly where I should be at exactly the right time I should be there.  A time to breathe deeply and allow my tortured heart to bravely love again and not look back.

Once again, I'll remind you, I share these very intimate personal thoughts with the sincerest hope that someone might benefit from them, find hope, feel the courage to press on, try again, strive to be more.

If there is one thing that I have locked on to this past year is that it is OK to take a time out when you feel like you can't do a damn thing right in a situation.  A simple, old fashioned "time out."  It takes a lot of courage to take a time out, depending on what's at stake, right?  If there's a lot at stake, all the more reason to take the time out, regroup, find your bearings, did I say breathe?  Guess what?  If you don't take the time out, you'll just continue to make things worse.  Learning and growth isn't pretty and it isn't neat and tidy.  In fact, it's a pretty messy and sometimes a very uncomfortable thing to deal with.

At some point, I found I just had to trust "my gut," that deep part inside that says, "Just do this, it will be OK!"  And it was OK.  It was more than OK.  It was exactly what I needed to do, even though I was scared to death, feeling like I was going to suffocate.  But I didn't.  And things turned out so marvelous, so wonderful, so incredible.  I have no more words.  On reflection, it's when I've gone against what my "gut" told me that things have turned out really terrible in my life.  You'd think I would have figured this out after the first few times, right?  Hey, some of us are just slow learners, OK?  Stubborn, OK, yeah, that, too.

My wish for you, for this new year, is that you will listen to your "gut" and be brave.  Embrace that which tends to overwhelm you and make peace with things you cannot change.  Give love and grace to all those around you.  Everyone is struggling with something every day, you just may not see it.

In closing, I am grateful for a loving family, sweet sweet friends who sustained me when no one else could, and the man who continues to loves me, in spite of myself. You all know who you are and I love you for being a part of my life.

Here's to 2014.  What'choo got?  I'm ready...

Blessings on your heads,
Red G

The Constant Question...Why

We all know, at about two years old, every child learns how to say the word "why."  They ask "why" about everything once they realize it gets some attention.  Any kind of attention.  It's a good word to know when you're only two and you want and need lots of attention.

It's also a good word to use when trying to figure things out.  As we grow older, it's a word we begin to use more towards ourselves and understanding why we do what we do, or why we feel what we feel, or why we like (or don't like) what we like.  Why, why, why.  A simple three-letter word that results in an often unfathomable number of words to answer the question, why.  And, of course, "why" begets yet another "why."

Long ago I recognized a very strong need to understand things in order to deal with them.  I use the word "why" a lot.  Go figure.  If you want to push me into a mumbling nerve-wracked state of anxiety, just don't tell me "why."  That will do it every time.  I found if I asked myself the "why" questions, I could keep busy trying to find or develop answers for days, if not months or years.  Sometimes I would actually find the answer to "why," and then there are so many "whys" I've asked over the years that I'm sure I've forgotten most of the answers to them, if indeed I found the answer.  Yet, I still keep asking.  Why.

Is it an effort to validate or invalidate, perhaps?  To accept or reject, maybe that?  Or maybe it's an effort to relate.  To find some corner of kinship with someone or something.  We are all connected, right?  Why?  It's certainly a good word to use when you want to keep a conversation going.

When you have the answer to "why" does the process stop there?  Is the answer the wherewithal to the question?  I don't think so.  There are things I've learned along the way of finding the answer to "why" that I didn't know I would find.  Things that may have caused me to ask a few more "whys" along the way.  With that in mind, comes the familiar phrase:

Perhaps the "whys" should be considered as what fuels the momentum of life.  What keeps us moving along towards some imagined destination.  If we didn't ask why, what would happen.  I'm guessing there were be fewer conversations in the world.  In fact, I'm pretty sure the world would become even more chaotic than it is right now if we didn't ask "why."

So, "why" aren't more people asking "why" our economy is so trashed; "why" we have so many homeless people; "why" so many people have insufficient income to get the medical care they need.  "Why."  "Why" can't we seem to get anything done to fix these issues?  Those "whys" should create an avalanche of answers.  The "whys" get some attention, just like when you were two years old, but the real question is "how" do we fix those things.  The "how" is where the work actually begins.  Then again, "how" usually drags a few "whys" along with it for company.

So, "why" is still a good word.  It still gets attention where attention is needed.  I think I'll keep using it.  Will you?

Blessings on your heads,
G

Things I Learned From You

Apparently I don't hide as well as I think I do.
 
I am capable of loving again and my bell isn't broken.  I truly thought it was.

A.D.D. affects how I process audio input and memory management more than I realized.

 


I have to keep walking if I want to feel better physically (thanks again for the shoes and the encouragement).

I cannot allow myself to accept blame from you when I have done nothing wrong.  Our definitions of "wrong" aren't necessarily the same, in all cases.

I can forgive you, even if you don't apologize.

My loving heart is so much stronger than I realized, thank God.

Respecting another person's wishes doesn't mean I have to agree with them.  And, sometimes you are wrong!

I missed the quiet, intimate moments and romance in my life.

I give wise counsel, when it is asked for.  I hope you remember the things I shared with you.

I need to be more assertive and set clear boundaries in relationships.  When I don't, I get run over again and again.  I'm working on that, but it's hard for me.

I still have the capacity (the fortitude) to trust another person.  I trusted you.

I won't know if a person is trustworthy until I take a chance and just trust them, and then see what happens.  Honestly, that's exhausting for me.  I'd rather just believe everyone is trustworthy, you know?  I know it's not true, but that's what I'd rather believe.  It's like you're always checking things off on a list.  I usually only use lists for grocery shopping and projects that I have to manage, not people.

My heart needs to feel loved unconditionally.  I thought I could live without it, but I guess I was wrong.

I don't say "no" when I should.  This often translates to over extending myself, and my resources to the point of breaking, in order to support your needs.  If you can't afford to feed yourself, I can't either.  If you can't afford to buy your own beer, I shouldn't either.  I end up in trouble when I over extend.  I need to say "no."

When it feels like I'm the only person going out of my way to facilitate a relationship, I need to stop and back off.  It's obviously an indicator of how that relationship will end up down the road.  Hindsight is bliss, right?

I have the most awesome, loving, giving, supportive friends in the world.  I am SO grateful for their willingness to support me, talk with me, and spend time with me.  I am blessed with wonderful true friends.

I will miss the wonderful parts of our relationship, which were consistent 3/4 of the time.  I will not miss the painful part of our relationship, the angry outbursts, the spitefulness, the accusatory episodes when there was actually nothing to accuse me of.  I always wondered, if I suddenly got hit by a bus and died during one of those times when you had shut me out, how would you feel if your last words to me were angry and mean.  Life is too short to live on those terms.  You are intelligent and you have to know that you are setting yourself up for huge permanent regrets if you continue this path.

You affirmed things in myself that I already knew.  Yes, I'm empathic.  Yes, my hands have a special touch that brings healing to some.  Yes, I'm intuitive and have a strong "third eye" for things going on in the world.  I am a good person.  My intention is positive, loving, and giving.

I learned how to let go.
 

It's really hard to do that when you deeply love
someone.  I've learned it's better to let go than
hang on and continue in agony when another
episode happened which made being with you
so painful.




I know you'll think of me, and of the loving, sweet times we've shared together.  Chances are likely you will miss them, just as will I.  Maybe you've learned things from me, too.  I hope you'll remember the good things, as I plan to do, and let the bad things go.

I wish you well.

Peek A Boo, I Found You!

What is considered a harmless child's game, Hide and Seek, has been used by many of us to protect our tender hearts at some time in our lives.  I figured, if I could "hide" good enough, no one could hurt me again.  So I shelved many things in order to help me hide.

• I shelved my openness and intimacy.
• I shelved the thought that I would ever again be in a meaningful relationship with a man.
• I shelved my humor.
• I shelved the possibility that I would ever again have a healthy sexual relationship, along with the *deep sigh* pleasures that usually includes.
• I shelved staying fit and healthy.
• I shelved dressing in a way that flattered my body.
• I shelved taking the time to make my hair look pretty.
• I shelved putting on make-up and taking good care of my skin.
• I shelved my well-being.
• I shelved my joy.

 That's a pretty high price to pay to keep from getting hurt, huh?



And what did this elaborate hiding process give me in return?

• I appeared angry and unapproachable to others.
• I kept men at arm's length, only willing to chance a "brother-sister" type friendship.
• I lost my sense of humor and became way too serious...wrinkles.
• I figured I'd never experience intimate pleasures ever again...talk about sad.
• I gained weight and didn't care.  My health suffered.
• I dressed frumpy and wore lots of black.
• My hair has it's own fashion ideas, so that didn't shelve well.
• I began to look tired, sad, and lost the glow of once healthy skin.
• My self-care rituals all but disappeared and I isolated to an unhealthy degree.
• I had no joy to lift me up when things were hard, and things have been very very hard for the past two years.
• It was like I had tied a weight on my own neck, just waiting for the right time to jump off a bridge and disappear.
• But no one could hurt me, right?
• Yeah, I was actually hurting myself, huh?

I busied myself with family, friends, volunteer activities, hobbies and crafting.  Dived in feet first to be a vendor at the Saturday Market July 2012, which was pleasantly quite consuming.  I crocheted way too much alone in my room watching SciFi...hey at least I let myself do that much.  I told myself I was happy.  I told myself that a lot.  Trouble is, I was not happy.  But, I felt I was doing what I needed to do to protect my heart and not get hurt any more.  I had pretty much convinced myself that I could do this crazy hiding and shelving myself thing until I died and have a good life.  Anybody want to jump in here right now and slap me up the side of my head yet and say, "What the fuck were you thinking?"  Several had tried, but my position was set pretty well, until recently.

Here's what I recently learned.  You can think you're hiding all you want to.  But, when someone else, who really knows what hiding looks like, "finds you", you can't hide anymore.  A simple example would be like this:  Ever notice that some people tie their tennis shoes with the tie to the side?  If you don't know why anyone would do this, you might not have a bad back.

If it hurts to bend over to tie your shoes,
you sit on a couch or bed and put your leg
up on the bed to tie your shoe.  This results
in the tie being off to the side of your shoe.
You wouldn't necessarily know this unless
you had to tie your shoes like this, too. 


So, when someone else has been hurt so badly that they honed these fine skills of "hiding," they also recognize that behavior in others.  Does that make sense?  Well, that's what happened to me recently.  So much for thinking I was so expertly skilled at hiding.

I had a choice; stop hiding or dig in deeper and keep hurting myself ever so much more than having my heart broken again could ever hurt me.  But, I had to think it over.  It wasn't an easy decision to take all those things off the shelf and begin to breathe in life like I meant it again.  I was so afraid.  Once I realized what I had been doing to myself, how much I had been hurting myself, I just couldn't keep hiding.  Especially from this person, who "found me," and called me out on it big time.  He could only do this because he had been hiding, too.  He had been hiding for the same reason I was hiding and he saw through my hiding.  He reached out to my heart with his heart, knowing he could get hurt, but taking the chance for both our sakes.  There were a few uncomfortable communication glitches in the beginning, but there was so much more that made both of us willing to work through those glitches.  Teeth were bared and a little blood was shed (metaphorically speaking), but we stood strong and worked through it.

I'm not hiding any more.  I can't.  I have a heart full of love and all the parts of me that had been dying on the shelf are back where they belong.  I am whole once again.  I am happy.  I feel loved and cherished like never before in my life.  There are still times I feel a pang of those past fears; but I rush to my center, breathe deeply, and let the past remain the past.

So, my darlings, if you're hiding, please consider the price you pay in order to hide and ask yourself if it's worth it.

Blessings on your heads,
Rege

Doing the right thing sucks sometimes

Maybe it's just me.  Maybe it's just that time of the year when chaos follows me around throwing stupid little things in my path to try and trip me up for some cheap entertainment.  Maybe.  Who knows.

I try to do the right thing in all situations.  I really do.  I realize that the "right thing" is always limited by my personal perspective and experience at the time, but my intention is genuinely from a good heart.  Sometimes, things end up like shit hitting a fan.  When it does, I never see it coming, and it takes me a good while to process through it.  I'm a tenderhearted person and if I ever do something that hurts someone else, it hurts me even more when I realize it.  Communication is the tool that you fix things with, you know?

A few months ago I learned from someone, who I considered to be a very close best friend, why our communication had been so sparse for the past 6-7 years.  During that time I had adjusted my expectation (due to the fact that I had moved to town and no longer just lived down the street) that she worked hella-hours at her job.  I accepted whatever communication she was able to share via email, an occasional text, and that was about it.  Little did I know, our sparse communication had zip nada to do with any of that.  Here's how I found out:

Out of the blue my friend invited me to come visit, have dinner, etc. on a Saturday evening.  I showed up and things were like they had always been, even though the communication had been lacking all those years.  She was genuinely happy to see me and we caught up on many things in our lives.  Her husband fixed us dinner and eventually we ended up hanging out at the fire pit, the best way to wrap up an evening in the country with friends.  As I was gathering up my things to start heading for home, she gave me a big hug and whispered something in my ear I will never forget.  She apologized to me about how long it had been since we had gotten together and for how sparse our communication had been.  Then she told me why it had been like this.

Apparently, years ago, I had left a voice mail on her home phone, which was overheard by her now-husband's daughter.  The daughter-in-law told my friend's husband (her dad) that my voice sounded like "that voice" that had left a rude and not very nice message on her mother's phone.  I guess this occurred before my friend married her husband and the x-wife had some bitter issues.  I don't know the precise details.  Anyway, as a result of this, my friend's husband decided I was a "she devil" and my friend had to make a choice to stand by her man, or defend her friendship of 20+ years with me.  Even though she tried to explain to him that there was no way I would ever have left a message on his x-wife's phone, he wouldn't believe it.  He chose to believe what his daughter told him.  Hind sight being 50/50, as we all know it is, the daughter was playing Mommy against Daddy at the time, so for some reason smearing my name resulted in feeding something she needed.  I never knew about any of this until my friend apologized that night.

I drove home in shock.  I would never do such a thing in the first place; secondly, I didn't have the means (the x-wife's phone number) to even try to do such a thing if I wanted to.  I couldn't believe our friendship had been held hostage for all those years over something so absolutely stupid and absurd by a selfish person with no morals.  My friend and I were very close.  We'd stood by each other during some very dark days of both our divorces and shared heartaches from our growing children.  This person was like a sister to me.  I can't imagine how painful it was for her to have to be in a position to choose like that.  Doing the right thing sucks sometimes.

I'm not sure what changed with her husband that made it so we could resume our friendship.  Yet, I don't hear from her much since that evening, still.  I don't know what I would have done had I been in her shoes but I choose not to judge her about any of it.  But, man, that really smarted in my heart.  It still does.  I'm not an aggressive person, so I'm just maintaining the light occasional communication as I had all those years.  I'm not convinced that things are different.  At least they don't feel different so far.

This week I found myself in an innocent, or so I thought, situation and I made a decision, based on what I thought was in the best interest for someone I cared for.  There was a part of me that toyed with the possibility that my good intentions might not be considered, but I did what I thought was the right thing anyway.  Well, maybe my good intention wasn't good enough.  I don't know since our communication is now pretty much at a standstill for now.  Ouch.  Big ouch.  Really?

Communication is truly like air for me.  Close up that communication with me and I feel like I'm literally suffocating.  I know I'm not, but it really feels bad.  So now I struggle to maintain a smile and keep positive thoughts in my mind.  Keep my hands and mind focused on the things I need to put my time and energy into.  But it's still there, nagging at my heart.  I wouldn't change what I did, but I would like to know what I should have done instead if I made a bad decision.  You know, so one doesn't repeat those things that don't work out like you'd expect.

It's real tempting to put those tapes back on the player in my mind to guard my heart, but I know they've not served a positive purpose all this time, even though I thought I'd convinced myself that they had.  But how positive is feeling like this now?  I'm lousy at confrontation.  I cry, OK?  It's who I am.  I know I won't sleep worth a nickel tonight.  I'll keep busy tomorrow, plaster a big smile on my face in the morning and I will get things done.  But, ouch.

This leaves me wondering, what should I do now?  Wait?  Wait some more?  A conversation needs to happen pretty soon or I'm darn sure I'm going to shove those tapes back in my mind's tape player and say "forget it."  I know I didn't do anything wrong.  Maybe I'm too sensitive.  This is the kind of feeling I've been trying to avoid like the plague for the past 5 years or so.  It just eats me up inside so bad.  I guess the question is "What should I be learning here?"  Maybe it's OK for it to SUCK when you're doing the right thing.  Hmmm...maybe that's it

Blessings on your heads,
Rege

Things change...and then they change some more

It's been quite a while since my last post.  Here's where I say "things sure change, huh?"

On Valentine's Day this year, I was talking with my brother and cruising around the internet.  For some reason, I Googled my dad's name.  Shut my mouth...yep, there it was, his obituary.  It said he had died August 17th, last year.  I sent the link to my brother.  There was a few moments of silence in our chatting.  No one (the step mother) had bothered to let either one of his only children know he had passed.  That's just not right, is it?  Who does that shit?

My last phone call to their house (the Fall of 2011) went something like this.  I called, said hello to the step mother, she ignored me and yelled to my dad, asking if he wanted to talk to me.  I didn't hear his reply, but she yells into the phone, "He doesn't want to talk to you."  Then she screams, into the phone, "And I don't ever want to talk to you again!"  And she slammed the phone into the receiver.  And that's the last time I attempted to contact my dad.  I had to let it go or it was going to destroy me.

The step-mother had called me in April of 2011, telling me I needed to help her with my dad.  No, she didn't ask, she demanded it.  She felt he needed to be put into a nursing home and she wanted to move into an assisted living facility.  A friend of hers had moved into one and she loved it.  I was in the process of finishing up my degree, so I had to wait until the break between terms to help.  They lived across the country, so there was a time and expense thing to consider.  She sent me a check to cover airfare and car rental, and I booked a flight in June.  Meanwhile, I researched all the assisted living facilities near the area they lived in, and tried to find nursing homes within a reasonable distance.  My dad was retired Air Force, so there were few options.  I visited a local assisted living facility to see if they would be able to help answer some questions and help me find possibilities in the state they lived in.

June eventually came.  I had to walk for my degree and then fly out two days later.  Lots of things going on during that time.  I flew into the nearest large city, rented a car, and drove to their house.  Did I really think things would have changed with my dad?  Really?  And what the hell was I doing?  The step-mother was cold and offish to me.  My dad was really happy to see me and I was happy to see him, at first.  One of the first things he told me was that there was no way he was going into a nursing home.  Baaaam!  OK, so I had to accept that apparently the step-mother had made this plan without consulting him, right?  So I just slid right into "let's develop a Plan B!" and started talking with him about trying to get an appropriate level of inhome care.  The step-mother was pissed, but I didn't know it, not yet.  I found out later.  I started making menu plans, explaining they would need to have someone come in three times a week for about 4 hours a day to prepare meals for them, do the shopping and clean up afterward.  They already had help cleaning the house, but the step-mother was still doing laundry and cooking.  Needed to try to get her kitchen easier for her to use, so I went to the local Lowe's and got some catalogs showing how to retrofit her kitchen cabinets so they were easier for her to use.

I didn't catch on how pissed she was, still.  I was in "Plan B" development mode.  I had asked her if I could clean out and rearrange her cupboards to make it easier for her to find things in her kitchen.  She and dad both said "OK."  So, I stayed up almost all night working in the kitchen.  It was overwhelming.  I ended up with a huge pile of cans and boxes of food that were well past their expiration dates, some as many as a few YEARS past.  I arranged things on the lowest shelves for her.  She is very short (4'8") and the kitchen was made for people at least six feet tall.  There was a nice pantry in the hall, but it was full of cobwebs and things were tossed in there haphazardly.  The light was burned out, so I had to use a little flashlight.  Apparently there was a wiring problem that made the light not work.

When the morning arrived, I was exhausted from working late into the wee hours in the kitchen.  I explained to the step-mother about the expired food and together we carried all of it out to the dumpster.  She seemed embarrassed, but I think she was more afraid that dad would find out about it.  He did find out, but he didn't react.  He was very quiet about it.  Later that day, she wanted to go shopping.  So we went to several grocery stores and I suggested a few purchases to help organize the kitchen, a shelf, some plastic tubs, etc.  I know I made the kitchen easier for her to use.  I know this.  Without a doubt.

The next morning, my dad quietly told me, "Next time you decide to rearrange someone's kitchen you should talk with them first."  I was confused.  That's exactly what I had done BEFORE I touched anything in her kitchen.  But, apparently that's not what she told dad.  I started to get the idea that something had changed, but I still wasn't sure what it was.  I was soon to find out though.

I asked the step-mother to take a look at the catalogs I had brought for her from Lowe's.  She wasn't interested.  She seemed really pissed off.  While I was trying to talk with her, my dad yells, "I can't hear you!"  My dad was confined to his hospital bed and we were sitting at the nearby dining table, but not where he could hear or see us very well.  I responded to him, "Dad I'm talking with the step-mother."  Then he screamed, "It's my house!"  Confused again.  Then he started cussing and screaming totally out of control.  I went to his bedside and veins were bulging on his forehead.  I told him, "No one said it wasn't your house, but I wasn't talking to you."  He continued to cuss and rant.  I'd had it at that point.  I took his chin in my hand and said, "You need to hear me.  You can't talk to me or anyone else like that, whether it's in your house or not!"  He tried to turn his head away and not make eye contact with me, so I repeated it.  If he could have, I'm sure he would have hit me.  At that point, I told him, "I'm done.  I'm leaving."  And I packed up my things and left the house.  That's the last time I saw him.  I did get to talk with him a few times after I got home, but that last phone call, when the step-mother wouldn't let me talk with him, ended my efforts to ever contact them again.

And then I find out he died in August.

Bottom line was that the step-mother figured I could just flip a switch and put my dad into a nursing home for her.  She overestimated my ability, evidently.  That's why she was so pissed off at me.  I thought I was doing the right thing in developing a Plan B since dad said no nursing home for him.  Oh well.

Things change...and then they change some more...and some times even more and more.

Since all this, my brother has been in contact with the step-mother on a regular basis.  She suddenly will talk with him, when all she did while I was there was talk shit about him.  She tells my brother he can visit, but he can't stay at her house.  And, as for me, I'm not welcome to visit her at all.  Not like I'd want to.  What the hell.

I'm glad my dad is no longer suffering, confined to a hospital bed.  I got to tell him I loved him before he died.  I doubt my brother and I will receive our rightful inheritance from our dad.  I'm sure the step-mother will break the inheritance law.  It's been almost a year, so my expectation is nothing.

It still breaks my heart that it ended like this though.  What's done is done.  I know this. 
I did what I could.  I tried repeatedly to have some kind of good relationship with him.  I can't help but wonder if the step-mother was what prevented that from happening every time.  Like so many other things in my life, I have to let it go.  And so I shall.

Me in 2nd grade