Christmas 2023: dreading dreading dreading
I have a Christmas birthday. This year is a ends-in-zero year, so it's a milestone of sorts. It'll be the first birthday and the first Christmas since Mom died. Dad doesn't celebrate Christmas, won't wish me a merry Christmas, and sneers when I wish him a merry Christmas. I get a "Happy birthday," though he hasn't done presents in ages, and Chinese food delivered. Last Christmas, Dad and I went to church and then went to the rehab center where Mom was. Dad saw her unconscious and struggling to breathe and demanded a ride to 7-11 so he could get a lot of beer and get drunk. The next day, I got an earful of complaints about how awful it was for him to see her like that. I got to see her like that at least once a week. Yes, Dad. It's awful. When he was well enough to drive himself 250 miles each way to visit my brother in prison, Mom and I encouraged him to go and visit his son. Partly, it was to encourage him to do something he really wanted, but mostly,