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Occupation: Girl

Please close the door and switch on the fun without fail.

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To start, we're okay. The tornadoes seem to have hit Mississippi the hardest. We had some scary-looking skies, strong winds, and hellacious rain, but that was it.

Second, the funeral for my great-aunt was on Thursday. (Wednesday was Pallas Cat Day on my Tumblr, because I needed a Pallas Cat Day, quite frankly.) It was held in a little churchyard cemetery up in north Alabama, not quite as far up as Decatur, but pretty close. It was the kind of place that had more cows than people and more churches than cows. I enjoyed the cows a lot. 

Also, my estranged father was there. I did not enjoy that as muchCollapse ) 

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Good for you, darlin'. I remember the first time I said "no" to my abusive father, and it was hard as hell, but I've never felt so much my own person since then. Maybe I need therapy for that, but whatevs - what I'm trying to say is you have every right to feel lighter, to feel better about yourself, and to be at peace with the situation.

Also, I'm glad for you that you were able to put your fears aside and speak in front of those people. Your Aunt "Mary" would have been proud, too.

I'm glad you some closure.

I do hope you feel better.

Backstory to make what I'm about to say make more sense: my mother, after having me, became involved with an abusive man named Tim. When she became pregnant, he left, and his brother, Chris, stepped in to marry my mother and raise my sister and myself. So, he step/adoptive father is her biological uncle.

Our grandmother (her's biologically, mine by marriage, Tim and Chris's mother) died this December. Ali (my sister) has another half sister through her father who she has a tentative Facebook/MySpace relationship with. She had never even seen her father, despite his mother's attempts to include him in our family again after he became clean of drug and alcohol abuse.

Tim and his daughter came to the funeral, and sat in the front row of the family section, Ali and I sat behind. After we walked up and paid our respects, we hugged our father, our aunt, and our sister. Time reached out for Ali and she continued walking straight past him into the arms of our grandfather. She didn't even make eye contact.

When I asked her about it later she simply said that he never tried to see her until then, and she was already too upset over Granny to deal with him trying to be her dad now. She said, "My dad was there, and he held me while I cried. I didn't need another stranger forcing his loss on me."

All in all, she's agreed it was good to see him and let him know where he stood.

I guess the point of this (JFC SOOO LONG) story is to tell you that I'm glad you got to let him know where he stood, and I'm glad it helped you as much as it helped Ali.

Rock on, my dear. It's great that you got to do that in a calm, classy way (I've had similar experiences, but not to the same 12-year extent) and did not handle it nearly as well as you did, so you are officially badass.

Also, I didn't get a chance to comment a few days ago, so **cyberhug**. I'm glad you're feeling better now and have motivation to do things. That motivation is always the hardest thing to get running again.

Love you (not in a creepy way, though. In a "this chick is righteous and totally what I want to be when I grow up" kind of way)!

Good for you. I admire you for holding it together. Sometimes I get that Elinor Dashwood thing too, and the result is a horrible explosion. It's understandable; that's a complicated situation you have there, but you handled yourself admirably, and I think that's part of the reason you feel at peace. Good luck.

I just--felt like a different, lighter person when I woke up the next day. I don't know.

I'm so happy for you. That must be a wonderful feeling.

You know, I'm starting to feel like Alabama is the actual center of the universe. I now know two people in real life who are from Alabama. While that may not seem like an impressive number, in this corner of the country it's a lot. Between you and them, I'm beginning to feel like I actually know quite a bit about Alabama. For example, qumquats are grown there and they ripen around Christmas. Do you like qumquats?

I--huh. I... did not know we had those here.

Sounds like you handled everything extremely well. Both the funeral bit and the father bit.

I met my father in law for the first time at my grandfather in law's funeral. He'd walked out on my husband and his mom when my husband was two, and they had had minimal contact since. It was odd to meet him in that setting, and odd to meet him at all; I mostly just kind of looked at him and said "Oh, so that's where Morgan's jawline comes from." And then he told me "Thank you for coming," and I almost punched him. I'd had my own relationship with my grandfather in law for almost 10 years at that point, and this dipshit was acting like I wasn't part of the family? Yeah.

And my own mom's memorial service is in three weeks. I still can't decide if I'm going to be able to speak at it. I'm impressed as hell that you did. I want to try, because I'm her only child and I should, dammit, but I'm mostly afraid I'm going to get out a sentence or two and then cry all over everyone.

Sorry to have made this all about me. But I really, really identified with what you're talking about here.

I'm so sorry--I don't know that I would be able to speak in that situation. It can be really tough.

I'm glad your strength of self and your good memories are helping you get through this. And I'm glad you got through the situation with your father with no problems or regrets on your part. *hugs*

Oh, Cleo. You handled a lot of tough things here with such strength and grace. You are amazing.

A painful situation, gracefully handled. Good for you.

Wow. You handled that so well. I'm sorry about your aunt, but I'm glad to hear that you feel at peace about having spoken about her, and not having spoken to your father.

*hugs you*

Also, "Elinor Dashwood complex" is a brilliant way to put it. I totally have that.

I know I haven't really been reading you all that long in the grand scheme of things. But I do feel like I know you and I'm really glad you've found some sort of closure. I hope you feel better.

Pfffft don't ever feel that you don't deserve to feel at peace.

Yay. I mean, I'm sorry that your great aunt is no longer with us, but it sounds like the experience, once you add the positive and negative aspects, came out heavier on the positive side. I'm happy for you, although I feel as annoyed at your dad as I can without actually being involved in the situation, for treating you like crap.