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It was like this.

I remember thinking, It sure does Suck that the same people who made Christmas hell for you when you were young get to make Christmas hell for you every year when you are grown up too.  Then it occurred to me one day my father would be dead, and I wouldn’t have to deal with him at Christmas anymore. Then I said, So am I really resigned to Christmas sucking every year till the old man dies? And I decided NO. He had ruined about 40 Christmases at that point. That’s enough for any kind of ‘healing’ to take place if subjecting myself to that was somehow healing. You reach an age where filial obligations are not absolute.  My father has always made it clear that my whole existence was a waste of his time, and I have no wish to waste any more of it, and I SURE don’t want him wasting any more of mine.

 

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