Kwakers Kranky Korner

Tuesday, August 29, 2006 at 8:56:00 PM

Sperm Donor, The Epic Novel

I've been trying to put my thoughts into words for awhile now.
Not sure it'll be coherent or articulate, but here goes......

For almost 40 years my parents were married, or what may look and seem like 'parents' to those looking from the outside in. It appeared to have all the usual components, a Mom a dad, children and family pets.
But looks are deceiving.

In reality, it was one woman, married legally to a person who appeared to be a man and a "dad".
Mom in fact, was Both parents rolled into one. She handled the discipline, the fixing of things in and outside the house. As well as the womanly duties of cooking, cleaning, washing, mending clothes and mending children all while holding that convoluted group together.

While it appeared to the outside world, that we were a "normal family", we were not.
Not deep down underneath the facade. The Sperm Donor who called himself "Father" and "Dad" was not either.
It takes more that shooting a load to be a real father and a dad.

Real Dads do not steal from their children's piggy banks.
They do not leave young children in a car they've recklessly put into a creek while trying to make it over a mountain pass in winter time with no snow tires or chains-.
Just because their wife did once before with no children in the car, Dickard couldn't have a woman be 'better' than himself.

My sister and I sat in that car, which could have went all the way into that creek at any moment, while he got out "to get help". We were on our way home from my maternal grandparents house, so we went back, there after the car was gotten out of the creek.
Grandpa gave the Dickard chains and made him call mom to let her know us kids were ok, though he didn't want to.
As we were late arriving home, mom had already called the state police to see if there had been an accident or something after calling her parents and finding that we had left their place already.
They told her there was a red and white Pontiac in the creek but didn't know the particulars.
To say she was worried and pissed was an understatement.
It also gave my grandparents just one more reason to hate him.
Reasons which were numerous already.
I ask, would a father, a Real father leave his young children in a car that could any moment go further into a creek and drown those children?
I don't think so.

My mom also had three of us four kids at home, by herself no midwife or medical help.
Although Dickard was in the room, he didn't "do" anything to assist her.
I was in and out of the rooms periodically, while both my brothers were being born.
While it was a couple of the most precious moments in time and I'm glad I got to experience them.
I would have felt better looking back in hindsight if mom had been in a hospital-just in case.
But a certain individual didn't want to pay for that. Too much money, and mom was a trooper.
She did a lot for those she loved. She was no saint, mind you, but she was one of the strongest people I know and will probably ever know.

While growing up, most of us kids had jobs of various types, (at what I'm told now, were young ages)
to help make ends meet.
The "so-called provider" didn't want to keep the good jobs he had over the years. He didn't want to take instructions, follow orders or be told what to do, even though he had benefits and future pay raises to look forward to. No, that was asking too much of him to be a man and work for a living to support his family.
He'd rather live off the state and be on assistance of some kind than step-up and work.
He even, at one time got student loans and grants to go to college. Most of that take home work, typing and such was done by my mom and my older sister, so he could get a degree and we could, as a family better ourselves.

However, he had one credit left to get his B.A. in Business. That credit was to do Public Speaking and the like.
He didn't. Once again it didn't suit him, he didn't even try. So the family ended up with more debts, and nothing to show for it.

Feeding and clothing his family fell to the state and relatives, untill most of us kids were old enough to earn enough to pay for clothing on our own.
It wasn't just the food we helped buy (or help supplement what the state was paying for, already).
We also paid utilities as well as the individuals Dickard borrowed money from.
Though he always seemed to have money to buy scratch off lottery tickets for himself as well as beers and such.

Then, in the early 1980's he got injured on the job.
For those of you not familiar with the Workers Compensation system as well as fighting insurance companies-It was Hell. Years, and years of hell.
Barely scraping by on an even tighter shoestring. But it gave Dickard a seemingly valid excuse for not working to provide for us. It also let him off for his repayment of those long ago gotten Student Loans with him being declared "Disabled".

He went through multiple surgeries, which were done in a hospital out of town. During one of those surgeries, he left mom with $20.00 to go two weeks for her and us kids. With only that rinky dink amount, topped off with the various bill collectors coming to the door for the money owed to them to keep the lights on and for this and that. It was a very scary situation for us. I remember it well. I also remember my then baby brother J.T. asking if we were gonna have enough food to eat.

Though mom didn't want to, as she had a lot of pride being a stay at home mom, she had to ask her folks for a loan to help us through and pay debts, though not all owed by us as a family. Mom felt obligated, as she was married to Dickard. She did all that and even managed to buy us a couple cheapo dollar store type toys to boot.

Going to school was ok, though we were judged because folks knew who our "father" was and knew what type of a person he was. Folks in that small town knew everybody as many had lived there for generations not to mention many were related to one another, including us.
It didn't help either that Dickard had been in prison. Mom helped us with homework, Home Ec. projects, Art assignments and Science stuff, too.
The people that were are true friends, for the most part didn't hold it against us who or what Dickard was.
So we managed to get an education of sorts and that was that.

I will skip a lot of things and just say that time went on and as us kids got older.
We worked and helped out as we had before.
My sister left the house in the 1990's, so it was just the three of us at home as it took that to keep the family afloat.
Some folks may not understand the concept of staying around to help the family out instead of moving out and doing their own thing. I have old-fashioned values. Couple that with the guilt I felt for years at not being born a son and being "Stupid" (one of Dickards favorite things to call me.)
as well as not wanting my brothers or mom to do without because Dickard seemingly couldn't work.
It just had to be.

Dickard was so comfortable letting others work that he'd show up on the job site come payday to have me sign over my paycheck right away. I was lucky to see much of it, if any. At the time, it was just how things were.
In time I grew to resent the fact that as long as I had money coming in (read: give him and help provide as he was not), I was just good enough for him to talk to. Although I didn't get the respect nor affection one's father gives to their children normally.
Nor did I respect him as a "father" or a man as he was neither in my eyes. Some where deep-down inside I still held out hope that someday because I did all I did to help out the family and because I was a decent person, I'd get his respect, affection and his approval. I know now, that will never happen.

When it came to sticking up for the family, if the need arose, it was mom who did so.
Then mom and my brother J.T. as he got older.
Dickard was and still is a fucking pussy-assed wimp. Hell, on one occasion when he went out to the lodge with mom he was belted in the mouth by another guy.
He just sat there, said and did nothing. Talk about chicken-shit and yellow.
I guess that's why mom was always tough as nails . She had to be, being married to a pussy.
Of course her being a Marine probably added to it as well.

She expected a lot out of herself and expected the same out of us kids. She figured if she could do it, so could we.
She used to say "If ya can live with me and survive you can handle anything." Though tough on us she was also protective, like a mother bear, if you will.
That being said, she could also be a raving bitch at times but I can't really begrudge her that with the shit she had to put up with and all the different "hats" she had to wear.

Time passed and we scraped by and while I was working I was injured on the job. After fighting WC, one do-nothing lawyer & the Insurance Co., I won my case.
More time passed and I eventually left home, myself.

Though happy to be where I was, I also got more guilt trips from Dickard about leaving and taking my money with me as mom and my brothers would be doing without.
I did send money there, for awhile. Untill I realized it was being miss-spent by Dickard .
After the money from me stopped coming, I wasn't worth the time of day to the cocksucker.

After a time, and with a miracle of sorts Dickard got a job, though "disabled". He managed to do hard manual labor type work.
It Seemed since this cash cow left the house he had to actually work some as my brother could only earn so much.
The other brother, (the youngest) wasn't working at that point- to my knowledge and was never one for 'manual labor' to begin with.

I felt like an idiot not to mention feeling used.
If he could work now, why didn't he bother back then?
It was gently but bluntly pointed out that he had a cash cow & slave labor to work so why ruin a good thing?
The more I began to think about things, the more I began to realize and admit to myself things I never wanted to acknowledge.
Dickard never really cared, never at all.

In fact, the last time I was hugged by him, my brother J.T. was still in diapers. I can't recall the last time, if any that he sincerely said he loved me.
He used to tell mom he loved her all the time though usually after an argument, but it didn't always sound that sincere.

Mom and Dickard never hid their arguments from us kids, which was both good and bad. We had (and have) a lot of baggage as we were quite often defending and protecting mom as he would make her cry . He'd wound her so bad with his actions or words (and it took a lot for my mom to cry.)
But by that same token, we weren't under any false assumptions that everything was a-okay or that we lived a picture perfect life. It was at times a very tense household from one reason or another.

Over time, both brothers were working as was Dickard.
Off and on again, here and there, between being fired or "let go".
The youngest brother around the age of 18 "came out of the closet" and moved to The City.
J.T. stayed at home in order to keep helping out
J.T. Kept the cars and truck in good mechanical order as well as the other labor jobs he could do so mom would not have to as much as she used to.
A few years passed and mom was not feeling that well. Dickard wouldn't put out the cash for her to see a doctor when she wanted to.
Us children and moms family asked her to go to the doctor. As time passed, she grew too scared to actually go.

Time seemed to fly by. It got to the point that mom was in so much pain she went to the E.R.
After being admitted and lots of tests, she was told she had Cancer. It had spread too far, by then.

After a brief stay in the hospital she went back to the house. Between hospice, a few dear friends and J.T. she was taken care of.
Dickard, if you're wondering, took the time to yell at her for her needing pain meds and adult diapers that he didn't want to go get for her. He yelled at her for having those needs instead of being a damn husband for a change.

As the Cancer took over, she lost more and more of her independence.
She felt more and more the burden to everyone which was only exemplified by Dickards callous behavior and prickishness.

It came to light, that as she was dying he told her supposedly during talks they had and not just outright or out of the blue , that he never really loved her.
That he stayed "For the Kids".

To tell someone that on their deathbed.
Someone who has spent almost 40 fucking years beside you honoring their wedding vows.
A person who has taken up the slack, spent years doing without and doing for you, is such a cowardly cold thing to do.
Not to mention that it must have hurt her to her very core.

He also made promises to her, on her deathbed nonetheless.
Promises to see her last wishes were kept and carried out. To see that her belongings and family heirlooms were given to whom she wanted, and that her ashes were were with her fathers.

To date, and it's been since January 2003 since mom passed, he's not kept one. NOT ONE, of those deathbed promises he made to her.

He was also not faithful to her.
Since she's been gone he's went from skank to skank to drug infested hoe's and so on.
He also hit on his own sons GF. How fucking sick is that shit?
He then hooked up again with the Twunt Cunt Lipps, who he was seeing while mom lay on her deathbed, though he'd deny it.
A Twunt whom one would need a big bag of flour to find the wet spot (in my opinion) if they didn't find it by smell alone.

This twunt is a piece of work. She/It doesn't like Dickards kids, well all but one.
She just wants to consume all that was and is Moms, for her yeasty self.
She gave Dickard an ultimatum to either stop seeing us kids (those she didn't like) or she'd be gone.
He chose her....

Now he's married to her/it, least that's what was supposed to happen last Saturday. Probably with one of Satan's demons officiating at the ceremony.
My youngest brother was asked to be Best Man, and planned on being there.
I can't at this time talk to him. Not while he's condoning the broken promises not being kept that were made to our mom on her deathbed. As well as condoning the actions of Dickard and Cunt Lipps.
To me it's a betrayal to mom and the rest of the family.

Whenever the cocksucker dies, if he's buried underground and not burnt (well, pre-burnt before being sent to Hell) I plan on pissing on his damn grave, or paying someone to do it for me after they dance on it.

I'm also throwing a "Ding Dong The Dickards Dead" party.
It'll be a joyous occasion for the world to be rid of that black cloud.
..and no I'm not really bitter. Just sickened.