Now to me it was a surprise to see how critical my dad had become as he recovered from his illnesses. To others, such as my sister, it was no surprise at all. I, apparently, was so used to deflecting Bill's critical nature that I used the same deflection when Dad was negative or critical. Living with him made it tough for me to deflect. It was too apparent. I couldn't deflect and ignore like I had always done. The nosiness, the criticisms, the constant judging, couldn't be wished away. Maybe I had created a wishful and false reality that the men in my life were kind and looked at the glass as half full.
Soon Bill and I were having date nights. Then we got into bike riding. We were finding ways to avoid Dad. Dinner with him got to be uncomfortable. It was like walking on eggshells. When was the next snarky comment coming? Who was eating too fast? Who was eating too much? Sitting at the table with him had become unpleasant. Date nights with Bill were very fun. As we got more and more into bike riding, we took longer and longer rides. We started going to dinner in Hermosa Beach, eating on the glassed-in rooftop at Hennessey's or in the cantina on the promenade.
During the summer we took extended trips to San Diego where the bike paths go on and on. The beaches are warmer, the water is cleaner, the traffic is lighter. We had a couple of good trips there. It was a way of avoiding Dad and a way of getting a vacation. Bill was more sensitive to Dad's criticism than I. He saw, I think, qualities in Dad that he disliked in himself. He was projecting. Again. He's the best 'projectionist' I know. How he could be so highly reactive to a quality he has in spades is beyond me. He reacts strongly. It isn't fair when he's that way himself. But he does it nonetheless.
When I went to my high school reunion in September of 09, things took a turn for the worse. First of all, Bill was vomiting. At first we thought he had the flu. Then we thought he'd had some bad food. He was not well. A friend of his was sitting on the porch waiting for him to come home from a photography class. Dad was there too. Dad started in on how Bill is always late and a host of other criticisms. Well, when Bill got home the friend was quick to tell him all that Dad had said. That was IT!! Bill called me and told me. He was beyond pissed. He was irate. Things went south from there. When I got home from the reunion, Bill was livid. He wanted Dad OUT! He came to my classroom at lunch soon after and told me he either wanted my dad to pay $6000 a month to live at our home or he wanted him to move out. We had a primary disagreement about how you treat someone after you sell all their furnishings and personal possessions and move them into your home. In my mind, you don't then kick that person out. You try to work it out. In Bill's mind, if he deemed their behavior inappropriate, it was enough to oust them. It never mattered how horrible, I mean HORRIBLE, Bill behaved. His behavior, for some reason, was not only excusable but not open for discussion. The rules for Bill were (and still are) different and more forgiving than those for the rest of us.
A few days later Bill wanted to buy a $3300 camera. He said he wanted me to give him the money for it and it would be an 'investment', a 'business venture' for me. He was going to make some money in photography. Yeah, right. I said no. I mean really no. No no no and no, he couldn't charge it on my credit card either. "Oh, I hadn't thought of that. Thanks," he said. "No," I said. I went to work and he charged the camera to my credit card. And I never would have found out if I hadn't checked my credit card the next day. I tried to stop the charge but they had already put it through.
When the camera arrived, I told Bill to return it. He told me he didn't want to and if I wanted to I would need to do it myself. Also, I would have to absorb a 10% restocking fee. $330 down the tubes.
So where in the world does a person think charging things to their spouse's credit card when they expressly said 'no', is a good idea? Does ANYBODY think this is a good idea? Really? REALLY???? I am ashamed to admit how many times that happened in my marriage to Bill. He never thought that was a had idea. Never. In Bill's world, he has no bad ideas.
I sent the camera back, took the restocking loss, and tried to address the issue of my dad. Bill had insisted on Dad not dining with us. In fact, he didn't want to have any contact with Dad at all. There was a part of me that understood that. But the part of me that didn't understand it was much larger. How could Bill, who didn't work, didn't manage money, didn't clean, didn't do much to help, be so unkind to my dad, the person who had set up a college fund for his child, bailed us out whenever we were in a financial pinch, always encouraged me, been so generous with us? Oh, well. It makes sense now.
Shortly after I sent the camera back to New York, Bill was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. This was tragic. We were shocked. It explained the vomiting and the inability to digest, but it gave Bill ----or so he thought----license to do and demand whatever he wanted. Having a deadly form of cancer was supposed to trump anyone else's wishes. At first, I really went along with it. Then, like typical Bill, he started to run away with it. And then I had to find a way to hit the brakes.
But this is about Dad. The criticism went on. Even after Bill left, Dad was still critical. Somehow he thinks being critical is a way of endearing himself to someone. After Bill was ordered out of the house, several friends came to dinner. After each one left, he would say, "I didn't think she would ever stop talking! I couldn't get a word in edgewise. I finally got up and left the room." Apparently, there is some planet where this is a good conversation starter. Hmmmmmm....it happened after EVERY ONE of my friends left. Geeezzzzz.....When my friends come over we talk. We talk and talk. There are no awkward silences. I like it. I look forward to it. When I think of having dinner with my friends, I think of the joy I get from talking with them. I finally told Dad that really upset me. He may have eventually gotten the message. I'm not sure.
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