Double Duty

Okay, so I realize that I've whined about Father's Day on this blog before.  Notwithstanding, the same sentiments hold true today.  Father's Day and me do not go together.

Some official correspondence came in the mail last month letting me know that the time for me to receive any financial support on behalf of my two children would expire in June due to the ages of my children....What a joke.  Financial support?  Please.

And you know what else?  I'm sick to death of those self righteous self-important people who take great pains to remind me that I made this bed and now I have to lie in it while they point and smirk.  Go ahead, oh ye great ones.  You have NO idea what has gone on and what decisions I've been faced with.   

Father's Day is a cruel reminder that A) my own father won't have anything to do with his children or his grandchildren, for reasons only known to himself; and B) my children grew up without any idea what it was like to have a father, because of pure and absolute selfishness on his part.

I couldn't face it today.  Usually, I smile and wish fathers around me a great day, and I get through it without much thought.  Today's Father's Day was crap.  I guess it just reminded me once again that I'm "not on the list", which is something that has been my jail keeper throughout this mortal circumstance.

So, I walked home and tried to take a nap so I'd stop letting it all bug me.  That didn't work.  I engaged in other activities to distract myself.  Nothing worked.  This year I'm just bugged.

My boy got some pie from the stash in the church kitchen.  All the boys got some, as did the fathers.  Last year I got a piece after asking for one.....because I'm pulling double duty and could use the recognition.  This year I just walked home.

What can I do, though?  I can't force my own father to love me or show an interest in me or my children.  I can't pretend that it doesn't sting.  And on top of that, I've worn myself out trying to fill a father gap for my own kids, failing miserably.

My sister often says, "It is what it is" these days.  She's right.  But that doesn't mean I have to like it.  It doesn't mean it is right or good.  It doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt.  Jerks are jerks.  That doesn't sting any less.

Whatever.