Happy Birthday, Dad…. For most people, today is one week until Christmas. For me, it means that it is my late Father’s birthday. This year’s birthday has a little more sting to it because this birthday marks that I have had more birthdays without him, than with him. So I’m not really sure how I’m feeling about that, other than lost. I will say, for most of 2017, I find myself very pissed off when I think about him. I’ve spoken, ad nauseam, about the abuse from my mother and her side of the family; and I have talked about how my Father and late Grandmother (ironically, her birthday is 2 days before Christmas) were the only ones who loved me, when they saw these things happen. But the feeling I haven’t been able to shake for most of this year is best described in the simple words: “WHAT THE F*CK!”. My Dad had time to always work (which I don’t begrudge him for at all, because my mom didn’t), cheat on my mom and have different girlfriends (ever had to spend a summer, Kentucky...
