When they called us into the bedroom to say our goodbyes, I looked around and saw the misty eyes of tears, even on Homer’s face, he caught sight of mine and realized… I wasn’t shedding any tears…

That was beside my dad’s death bed in 2006, a couple days before he passed…

As I watched the drama of that household go on, I had no clue I was in the throes of a kidney infection and not a good one… But I was aware of the crazy behavior and the fact, every time I went in the house to be near my dad, I was met by my mother or my half sister was by his side…

I never got that chance… They feared he would speak the truth on his death bed…

He already had while he lived, they just didn’t know we had the conversation…

I sat at my house for a couple days and get the call, he was comatose, gone, but breathing and did I want to see him and in that moment I knew… I was dealing with barbarians for siblings… Greedy and ugly to the very end… as Freda found out…

I declined… no critical thinking, no self awareness…. Just the mantra from each and everyone, “ME”… “ME”… “ME”…

We packed up and left for Mexico… I wasn’t interested in paying respects to my abuser… I did that while he lived, so he would know what it was like to be a true Airman…

Death isn’t new to me, according to the science, I was strangled into it at 8 years old and I was beat into it at 13 years old… previous blogs talk about those years…

So, I will never shed tears for the dead… I will not talk kindly of the dead because superstions abound… I will treat each dead, the way they treated me alive… (yea Trumps grave doesn’t stand a chance)… Just being real…

So I will celebrate the death of Graham and McConnell and I will hope with all that I am, the dominoes don’t stop at 3….

I remember…

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