Will My Real Daddy Please Stand Up?

The last few weeks have been amazingly painful. I have experienced them almost as if I have been viewing the events from outside of myself looking down, or perhaps, from standing aside. In either case, it has been discomfiting to see this person going through the throes of pain and near agony of her realization as she comes to terms with her true "Daddy. My parents divorced and separated; no really - separated; when I turned 12. One month Dad was in the vicinity and then, "POOF!", gone. He'd moved away for a job or some such reason and that was that. We saw him a couple of years later for a few weeks in the summer and then there was another drought. That became the standard, the pattern. He'd dip a toe in our lives every 3 or 4 years. A weekend or so. Then those times stretched out further and further. A one point, until I reached out and made the effort, the contact, we had nothing but the rare occasional phone call; maybe Christmas card; for 15 years. And those were because I'd had children; his grandchildren. When we did meet up after that time, he kept introducing me as his, "Daughter that I haven't seen for over 15 years." I remember how I appeared to just smile it off and paid no attention. But I was inwardly pissed. Who's fault was it that we'd been so estranged? HIS. I was always the one making the overtures, the gestures, the entreaties. He was just the recipient. And then it was still always on his terms. ALWAYS. And so we bumped along. Just coasted and made do because that was all that could be done. Again, is terms. In the meantime, the child, real childish part of me, invented this persona to fill in the gaps for the missing man known as "Daddy." In my mind the guy that was gone was gone because he was doing all the wonderful things on his job jaunts. He was a bush pilot. He ferried planes to South America. He worked for Bell Helicopter in Vietnam and endured the Tet Offensive. Any letter that came, I took the stories he shared and made the bits of information into novels of grandeur and adventure. Made the missing link larger than life. Made Clark Kent into Superman even though he never once took off the glasses or ran into a phone booth or changed into the suit and cape. And I know it didn't cost him a cent when the Summer unfolded as it has. But it cost me. I watch him crash and burn as I spent more and more time around him and he never thought to try and hide his true persona. Not that he could. You see, my Father is arrogant, self-righteous, staid, controlling, and manipulative. And after I finally got my act together and stop letting him push my buttons so much; he's had fits. He does not like that I've decided to reassert myself in my own home. He's become bitter and resentful that I've returned to my job. He's done any and everything to try and wedge between myself and my husband. And each time he's foiled, he tries harder the next time. And there's absolutely no reason for it. I already resent him enough as it is. I've gone from taking care of my Dad to taking care of my Father. He's become just an obligation. His constant need to make life difficult and do whatever he can to take over and rule my home even while in the midst of purchasing his own? Well, it has not done anything to endear him to either me or my hubby. He's purchasing his own place, but when any papers or correspondence come to him - he hands to stuff to the Hubby. Doesn't look at it, just hands it over. He doesn't want to deal with it. Doesn't say please or will you look at this for me or I need help or or or , just hands it to Hubs and moves on along. He expects it to be taken care of. But Lord forbid we tell him there's a hold up or something isn't ready yet. A hew and cry erupts like you wouldn't believe. I finally got that to cease by warning him, one more gripe and he was handling it all on his own. And he would do it from a hotel. Enough was enough. And oh, by the way, I'd better here him tell my husband thank you every time he assisted the Old Man with any part of the new home anything. When he squinched his face up to protest, I leaned in and flat told him, you mess with me, fine, you mess with my guy, back up an reconsider your options. Hubs has been real good to you and he deserves respect. Hand it over Bub.