Amber's Abode

Can't buy me love. (Slight rant warning.)

Well, I had an interesting sort of day.  Technically yesterday now.  My dad showed up.  No asking about the schedule I keep, no nothing.  Just showed up with my sister who lives in the area newly, in the suburb about an hour away from my suburb.  I was really worried that it would be a bad experience, but it was more annoying than anything.  And typical. 

As soon as they got here, he turned on my computer, even though I asked him not to, saying he wanted to see what I had in my system for possible Christmas gift ideas.  But he and my sister ended up playing a game of Bookworm for about an hour and a half without really including me.  Then they decided they wanted to go to Best Buy, so I showed them how to ride the Max for the one-stop journey.  They bought stuff for other people and ignored me, so I wandered around scoping for myself. 

They brought me back in time for dinner here, and dad gave me his shoulder squeeze hug replacement and told me that as one of my Christmas gifts he is going to send a $50 check monthly to add to the $30 that's usual fare.  I waited for the catch.  Sure enough.  He's going to send the check to my nearby sister and brother-in-law, and they can give it to me.  Because everyone knows that, as a 29-year-old, I'm completely incapable of handling my own mail.  Sigh. 

At first I felt nothing but grateful, until I kind of woke up and watched him walk away.  Now don't get me wrong.  I am grateful, because I kind of have to be.  I mean, $80 is better than $30 any day.  So please do not send me any nasty grams after reading this. 

But he was so proud of himself, like that little gift is going to make up for the crappy parent he has been and still is.  It was like he thought it would make up for every wrong he has ever done to me.  When no amount of money ever ever could.  Ever.  But now he can be happy, and go to sleep every night peacefully, telling himself what a wonderful father he is to me.  Which makes me want to tear up his little checks in his face.  But I'm not in a situation to be able to do that, which he knows. 

Okay.  Hard truth time. 

1.  My dad is a nurse, a registered one, with 20 years Army experience, and that is good for an army pension monthly for the rest of his life.  Also, he has tenure in the hospital where he currently works, having worked there for 15 years now.  Now I'm not sure what the exact figures of his paychecks are, but I know for a certain fact that they are high enough that he can afford to send me more than $50 a month.  But he would rather spend it on his fiancée and her two adult children, who are perfectly capable of holding down jobs, and who do not live in nursing homes. 

2.  If he were such a wonderful father, I wouldn't be in a fucking nursing home in the first place.  Period.  End of story. 

3.  Throwing money at any problem does not make it go away.  And if I'm such a problem, it's on.  Bring it.  Seriously.  Nothing you can do legally is going to make me disappear, and I'm stronger than all the shit you have thrown at me and tried to bury me in so far.  So, let's go.  Take your best shot.  And we will see who comes out on top.  You are pretty weak if you really have the need to attempt to crush this diminutive Dyke on wheels.  (It may not be a bike, but it will roll over your sorry ass sufficiently enough for the crunch to satisfy me.) Especially since she is a person you claim to love.  You don't love me.  You don't even know me, let alone what real love is. 

Real love is a group of near strangers welcoming me on Thanksgiving because you wouldn't.  Real love is a poker buddy who spliced a wire that some punk cut so that my blinking safety lights work again, and the same person who gave me a hood against the cold.  Real love is a massage giving friend who is patient enough with my body that it can be an ally for awhile instead of an enemy.  Real love is a person that will drop whatever they're doing when they know I need it and hold me, really hold me. 

It's someone that will buy me a drink even though I just took them out at poker.  It's a bartender who will break the rules and leave the building so that she can run down the street and flag the bus down when it's the last one of the night and I have to take it because I don't have the money for a cab.  It's a cherry coke or a cranberry juice magically appearing at my table.  It's pulling a warm car over and standing in the cold waiting for the bus so that I can hide in a not so visible wind shelter. 

It's someone calling me old lady names and reminding me to clean my dentures, just to make me laugh.  It's somebody who lets me hide at their house watching a movie until 2:30 a.m.  even though they want to go to bed.  It's spontaneous dance lessons.  It's a prayer while I cry.  It's a song while I scream.  It's someone telling me I'm beautiful when I know I look like I belong in a nursing home.  It's someone telling me I rocked a karaoke song when I know I was off key. 

And all I can say to you is that I hope you get to experience real love someday.  I am one of the luckiest people in the world, even without your little $50 buyout.  And it's because of the family that surrounds me, the one I claim, my tribe.  They give it to me freely and they even have almost convinced me that I deserve it.  I will be grateful to this family for as long as I live. 

May you find one of your own someday. 

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