my mother trashing my dead father is getting a little old. And for some reason I’m the bad guy. So I walk outside. I wanted to have a nice visit but it seems that I cannot stand the manner with which my mother cannot seem to take responsibility for their failed marriage, the primary reason (there were others) that I chose never to marry, despite the categorization of common law husband-wife, whatever that means.
I am pissed, it’s fair to say but how can one be angry at one’s 84 year old martyrdom devoted mother who despite everything I love and adore? Yet she infuriates me with her stubborn blocks and interruptions every fucking minute and a half.
So I’m the bad guy, aligned with my horribly behaving father (he left my mother after 7 years of filandering with a girl who “sailors loved,” as my grandfather remarked “I’ll bet they did” when she boasted at an awkward Annapolis lunch.
My father died in March. I miss him terribly. I love my mother but I feel like I bad daughter for understanding him.