Been leaving vital bits out of conversations and posts recently. And I've been getting less out of my walkies and various other activities. It's this crap with my father and the effects it's having on my various ailments and my concentration.
F'rinstance, Suzanne pointed out that calling yesterday's Park's Bay walk 'Brisbane Water Walk #2' was a bit out of the blue.
When I was rabbitting on about my future walkies the other day, I totally forgot to say I'm counting the Woy Woy walk I just finished as Brisbane Water Walk #1.
Brisbane Water Walk #1 - Woy Woy peninsula - 1st March to 30th September 2005
Brisbane Water Walk #2 - Park's Bay - 3rd October 2005
Brisbane Water Walk #3 - destination undecided
Haven't started walking 19th century Sydney yet. I'm hoping to get started before the hot weather really sets in. This crap with my father has got to be brought under control so I can get back the energy to do it.
This crap with my father
The day after Gran's funeral he started ranting about how he had "power over you all". "You" being my aunts & uncles, me & my cousins and the "power" being the job of executor Gran left him with.
Gran's estate consists of one ordinary suburban house, a couple of thousand in the bank and her personal effects. There's no Picasso, no pot of gold hidden under the stairs, not much dollar value. The house has been sold and the proceeds split between her four kids, one of course being my father.
So he's got the money. But this isn't about money. For him it's about power. He's now delaying handing over the personal effects and the tiny cash bequest Gran left to her grandchildren. As soon as he hands that over his job as executor is finished and all this power he thinks he has is gone.
I want him replaced as executor. The job should go to his brother or sister. I want to go to a solicitor now and get him replaced and be done with it.
They're not thinking very clearly at the moment. No wonder. They've only just met the monster and they're still reeling. They met him the day after Gran's funeral. He's been like that as long as I've known him. As soon as the front door shut behind us, shutting the world out and shutting us in with him, out came the monster. No-one believed me. He was so nice and mild and pleasant on the public side of the front door. After a while I gave up asking for help.
My aunt and uncle are hoping for a peaceful resolution. One where my father comes to his senses and starts behaving like an adult. A reasonable expectation but it's just not going to happen. I've known the monster all my life and I know that this can only end in court.
Now they're starting to remember what he was like as a child. They're realising that he was always the monster and the pleasant behaviour he displayed as an adult was just a cover. It must be horrible for them to find out there's a monster still living in the family. But the sooner they remember who he really is the less damage he can do them and my cousins.