Good points, evollove. I know it's fresh, early. I see my siblings mourning, feeling sad and nostalgic. I feel nothing like that. One sister keeps asking me about stuff I might want from my father's house, mainly things like old letters I'd written to him, Christmas cards he kept from me, that kind of thing. Maybe it's because I am basically not very sentimental myself, but the stuff means nothing to me.
So maybe I ask because I feel weird that I'm not reacting like them. Sure, a little guilty about it. A little guilty about feeling annoyed to find that they don't see the faults in him that I saw--his pettiness and stinginess, narrow-mindedness. I want to tell my siblings that more than anything, in some ways, my father showed me how NOT to live. He showed me the fallacy of living your life in the past, of being stingy, of being rude to waiters and waitresses and people who served him, including nurses and doctors.
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Ever notice how this place just basically, well, sucks.
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