OK. This is going to get ugly. So X-out now while you can. And don’t @me. I don’t read comments because I’m already miserable and trying to stay on the razor’s edge with my mental health.
*Exhale*
Exactly when did the older generation (now in their 80’s and upwards) decide that the world owed them something because they worked a third of their lives?
I read an article and I wish I could document it. But it explained that many of the men who joined the service 60 or so years ago did because of several factors.
They lived in rural America. Mom and Dad had multiple children. They barely scratched out a living. The children went without. They didn’t have decent clothing. They didn’t have decent shoes. Many times, they didn’t have enough food to fill their stomachs. Medical care wasn’t even considered. In fact, my father-in-law was brought up this way in Wynne, Arkansas. Outright poverty. And ten children, including TWO sets of twins. Jesus!
So when they were teen-agers, they wisely joined the military. They had a roof over their heads, clothing, a pay check, shoes, medical care. It was a rough trade-off, indeed. It was dangerous. But they were better off – much better off in the SHORT RUN as well as the long run.
Damn, the military would even send them to college to become engineers and other professionals. My God!
And now, they have medical care FOR LIFE. Prescription medicine FOR LIFE. A pay check FOR LIFE. Nice.
Is there anything else these people would like, served on a silver platter?
Yes, my father was one of these. His parents didn’t have multiple children. He was the only one. But he lived in an abusive home in really bad circumstances. His own father didn’t want him to graduate from high school. My paternal grandfather, another piece of work. Damn. Anyway, Dad managed to graduate from high school and joined the Army. And made a career of it.
He married mother, had me, and promptly abandoned both of us. He spent his life in the Army then retired, went to work for a company as a logistics specialist then retired, went to work for a company as a short-distance delivery truck driver (for lumber and building supplies) and, correct, retired. So he has now retired from no less than three different companies.
You think he depends on his corporate health insurance? Don’t be stupid. He depends on his military retirement for everything. Why wouldn’t he?
And he has absolutely nothing to do with me. Never has. I met him face-to-face when I was about six years old. He came to Memphis and stayed for a few days (not to see me – I was an afterthought). Then he was gone. We took up by telephone when I was 30 years old. I would talk to him every Sunday. After about a year, we stopped. I don’t know why. I have been to North Carolina to visit with him and his wife a couple of times. But it isn’t good for him. It just reminds him of where he failed and that doesn’t help me at all. So there’s no reason to torture him.
Mother, on the other hand, was also raised in a very dysfunctional household. Her Dad abandoned the family when she was small. Her brother drowned when she was fifteen. That was pretty much the end of the family. Mother is an extremely mentally ill histrionic narcissist (as was my maternal grandmother).
So neither of these people have fulfilled their responsibilities as far as their daughter, me, is concerned. Train wrecks? Yes, both. And mother thinks the world and I owe her something? That must be nice. I don’t think anyone owes me anything. And it’s a good thing I think that way. Because that’s definitely how it is.
Happy Fathers Day!
Tears and Catharsis 