Hard Times Upon Us…Will It Ever End?

Well…It has been a while since I’ve written and it is with good reason. ON Saturday the 19th of Nov. I went to visit with my dad. He informed me that he was off his medication cause he didn’t feel he needed it. He said he had nothing left to live for now that the family had taken his land. He began talking about wanting to end his life. He didn’t want to be a part of the family that he was born into any longer and said that the only way he could get out of it was to end his life….but he couldn’t as me to buy a gun for him to do it, since that would ultimately make me an accomplice and he didn’t want me to go to jail because of him deciding to end his own life. I got very upset over it. I told him that I didn’t want him to do that because I couldn’t handle another death on top of losing Noah Brain. (my grandbaby who was born too early). He said he was going to feed the dogs rat poison and then he may consider taking it himself. I told him that was going to be a horrible way to go and I felt he didn’t need to consider it or speak of it. I considered calling someone for help, but also kind of figured it was just a bad day for him and decided that I would check in on him the next day to find out if his mood had changed or not. Especially after he flew off the handle at my 6-year-old. I could tell it was a lack of medication that made him talk crazy. He was off the same medication when his brother convinced him to give up the land. Dad started saying that my son was a sorry child and was totally worthless as far as a human being goes. He said a lot of very hurtful things that my son still hasn’t yet forgiven him for. Along with all this, my dad said that I am a sorry human being for bringing a child as horrible as Zach into it. Needless to say, when my dad said that Zach was no longer welcome inside of his house, I got my son out of there. I had several friends of mine check on my dad the next morning. I have seen these spells too many times. I knew he didn’t need to be left alone, but again, he was talking the same way when his brother took his property. I knew he would be okay until the next day, and then the next day, someone would be able to talk him down from the edge. I knew it wasn’t going to be something I could do. He went to dinner the next day with a friend of his, because I asked them to check in on him. My dad didn’t remember going to eat at their house Sunday evening.

Then, my dad went to the ER on November 20, 2016. I didn’t find out about it until the next day, because he knew that he had upset me but he still doesn’t remember the things that were said. The Nurses called me at noon on Monday saying that he was in the hospital and about to be transferred to Jacksonville, Florida. I immediately went to the hospital in Brunswick to find out what the heck had happened. Dad called the ambulance because his stomach was hurting. My first thought was that he had maybe taken rat bait, but it didn’t show up in any of their tests…thank God. However, they were going to send him to St. Vincent’s in Jax because they found a major issue with his heart.  When he left to go to Jacksonville, I went out to his house to make sure that everything there was okay.

The rat bait was gone. An empty bag in the trashcan still has me mildly concerned, but I will always have to hope that he didn’t try to do himself in. Facing heart surgery, he still says that he has nothing to live for. He says he is tired of living in the prison that they have doomed him to live in. His brother and sister were told about his health condition. They decided to call him up. He told the nurse he didn’t wish to speak with them. So when they moved him to a private room instead of ICU, they got his room number and line. Dad told me he hung up on his sister when she was spouting words of love to him. I sent his sister a message telling her to leave him alone. That he does not wish to talk to any of them, and when facing open heart surgery, they need to leave him be. I told her that he is fighting for his life and doesn’t need the stress. She called me a cry baby. Then she called me a liar. I’m trying to get dad to stop talking about them. He is going to have open heart surgery tomorrow…All week that he has been in the hospital he has talked about wanting to fight them and wanting to hurt the family that hurt him. His nurses have heard all about what the family has done to him. I’ve heard it from nurses and I’ve heard it from his own mouth. Why does the family want to stress him out so much more by not respecting his wishes? It doesn’t make sense. They have taken everything from him. Why must they try to stress him out and take what life he has left? He doesn’t need to go into surgery with negative thoughts and hating the life that they have doomed him to. He gets wound up on it and I tell him that there is time to deal with that later. I tell him to focus on getting through surgery and then he can deal with the family. But that only works until they try to contact him, AGAIN.

I will NEVER understand the family that I was born into. They all claim to be Christians and Jehovah’s, but they lack common sense or decency. WHY? I pray for karma to soon take them by the hand. I hope in their final days they glimpse what they have done to my dad. They make me sick to my stomach and if I could wash their blood from my veins I would.