yduras

(This entry has been rated R for language)

I dealt with a lot of morons today; you'll probably see some of the venting when my twitters turn up tomorrow morning.

But,you know, work ends, and I headed home. As I was close to home, my cell phone played the family ring and I saw a call from my father. Now, I love my Dad, but he rarely instigates contact unless something is wrong. He opened with asking what I want for my birthday and then waffling about whether he'd be seeing me online any time soon or whether he'd be able to get me a present on time. Warning bells started to chime gently in the back of my mind.

The reason for the call, you see, was to let me in on the latest development with RM. Last night, he and RM had a yelling fight. She shoved him, and he shoved her off of him. At which point she started screaming abuse and that she was going to charge him and so forth. He retreated into the study and called the police. When they arrived, naturally, RM claimed he'd been choking her and Dad was arrested. There's now a restraining order against him keeping him from going to his house and (when he will finally be escorted in to get his stuff) from removing any joint property. He's at a motel. His lawyer got him bailed out, but was in court all day today so they have not talked.

Dad swears he's going to file for divorce (again) as soon as possible and actually stick with it (this time, for real, just like all the other times he said it would be this time, for real.) I suggested he get a lawyer who's a specialist and to file counter-charges, especially to get an order preventing RM from hiding any of the joint property (she's been known to hide assets before).

I asked if he had called (or was going to call) either of my brothers and he went into a waffle about how he's had to leave his cell phone charger at the house and he might not have the batter life. I pointed out (a) he has a car charger and (b) you can get a new charger at any electronics store for cheap. He said he might well head out to a mall. He had, at least, called his sister in Arizona, so that's something.

Then I let the conversation digress. Because I don't get to talk to him much and yelling or pushing him when he's been stupid just makes him retreat into self-flagellation and nothing gets done. That's why he called me and not my brothers, you know. Because I'm the child who doesn't get angry. After we finished, I called each of my brothers so they'd at least be in the loop. They're both even sicker of all this bullshit than I am.

I love him, but Dad's the one I'm mad at. RM is like a rabid bear. After a point, it stops being the bear's fault and starts being the fault of the idiot who keeps sticking his hand back into the cage. I'm sick of being jerked around. I'm sick of him starting to grow a backbone and then crawling back so he doesn't have to be the bad guy. I'm sick of watching his situation grow worse and worse while he won't just get out already.

I still care, but I'm not vesting myself in this coming out well. It's, ultimately, not my job to fix my Dad's life, even if I could.