Dad never physically abused any of his kids; Mom was the one he sought. He didn’t show an ounce of kindness when it came to her. Dad had real issues; he was toxic and poisonous. Think about it: What kinda man whips his wife with a belt? Isn’t that a sign of a deeply
The memory gets kind of fuzzy. I don’t recall all the details, just the gist of the story. And this one added another blemish to darken Dad’s character.
It happened the time Bobby took the Halsted Street bus to Chicago, where he met Dad for lunch. When Bobby arrived at the restaurant on 73rd Street, Dad was already seated, sipping black coffee. Dad loved coffee without any cream or sugar, and would always order a delicious pecan roll. While they sat there talking, the waitress returned to refill Dad’s coffee cup and take
In his deep tone, Dad introduced the waitress to Bobby. Turning to face the waitress, he told her, “This is my nephew.”
“It totally threw me for a loop when Dad made that statement,” Bobby told me. “Dad didn’t have the decency to let the waitress know I was his son. He called me his nephew. Sis, I was so speechless and hurt that I just didn’t say anything to him.”
When my brother shared this experience, I too felt the pain. Although I was Daddy’s girl, some things just can’t be excused. When Dad split from the family, we four eldest had grown and were nearing adulthood
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