Talking to my brother & seeing my father. Is seriously hard. My father abused me & my mother growing up. I have such harsh feelings towards him. It makes me angry.
Though I realized today. He didn't have the same child I had. I guess really nobody does. I spent so many years protecting him.
Making air forts, hiding in the closet while they fought. Reading him books, hugging him. After they would pass out. I would make peanut butter cookies. To cheer him up.
I think he remembers those nights/days. That's a good thing I guess.
My family started going to church after I left. Maybe making some stuff better. Drinking still happened.... Church off and none. But they had good days. They bonded.
I am sitting here in this icu room. My mother laying on her deathbed, my brother & father on the other side of the room.
I should feel like this is my family this is my roots this is where I belong..... I don't.
I feel on edge and nervous. I am scared to say the wrong thing look at them wrong.
I am affraid I smell alchol on my fathers breath. He hasn't hugged me nor gotten too close. So, I am not 100 percent sure. Yet again this family doesn't hug or get close. I'll figure it out. If so I can't believe it.
They still don't believe the alcohol my mother has consumed I've the years has anything to do with this situation.
I wish they understood.
They never will, I am scared.
Anyways off subject.
I am shocked to see my father pray every hour with my mom. Tyler says he hasn't left. He talks to her all day.
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