The Asshole Moves Out (Again)

My mother was a nurse who worked for over thirty years on the night shift at a local nursing home. She worked 11 at night til 7 a.m. My Asshole Dad would move out whenever he met a new woman and would often wait til Mom left for work to clear out his crap. One particular time stands out in my mind. I had hurt my knee while driving his motor scooter (yes that’s right the asshole owned and drove a motor scooter) and that night it was really bothering me.  Mom set me up on the couch with some pillows before she went to work. Now our tiny living room belonged to my father who would lay in the middle of the floor blaring baseball. To this day I can not stand the sound of a baseball game. That night he was plopped in his spot but didn’t seem to want me on the couch and I kept noticing that he was watching and waiting for me to fall asleep. In the morning Mom let us know that he must have moved out cause his side of the closet was empty. We were all mad as usual (this was probably the 7th time he had moved out this way). At some point Mom went in to bed since she worked all night. That afternoon The Asshole had the nerve to pull up on his motor scooter go in to the room where Mom was sleeping and yank the TV out of the wall. He put the TV between his feet on the scooter and drove away. My sister jumped in her car and followed him to some apartment in another town. We were always so mad at him and all of these women that picked up. I used to imagine myself telling these women off or physically fighting them. I was more mad at these women than I was at The Asshole.  Now I realize that Mom is just as much to blame as he is. She allowed this and even encouraged us to look for phone numbers and other info. We became little private eyes and to me it almost became an obsession to find something. I would always tell her thinking I was being loyal to her but now I realize I told her because I wanted her to fight. I wanted her to get strong and take a stand. To protect us from this mess, to show me that a woman can be strong and doesn’t need to live like a doormat but she couldn’t or wouldn’t. She needed him to feed her self image and to this day she blames him for the morbid obesity and any other problems she’s dealing with.

He stayed out of the house for a few months and it wasn’t long before he came back. Whenever he came back he always promised things would be different. This time I remember crying in the back of my house because I knew he had come to beg to move back home. Mom must have sent him back to ask my permission cause he came out back and promised that things would be good and that we would even start going to church. We haven’t made it to church yet.

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About amysmidlifemess

Trying to think of something funny or deep to describe myself. I got nothing.. My nest is now empty leaving lots of stones unturned. I'm searching, I'm seeking. I'm sad and I'm weeping.
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