I remember dad reminding me, whenever I missed maman, that she wanted to abort me. I have heard this story often since I was about 10 years old. He “received a call, Monique was frantic, she was bleeding, and she was rushing to her doctor’s office!” Jack says he rushed out of his meeting and raced to the doctor’s office “just in time to see the doctor taking the vacuum down from the wall and about to abort you.” I remember being really curious and asking what the vacuum looked like and he replied, “Like a long hose with a suction on the end, like the vacuum we have at home.” In those moments, when he told me this ‘story’ I don’t remember believing him or not believing him, I remember wishing it had just happened, regardless of the reason. This story never really affected me and I filed it. It was only when I was older and one of my best friends would be having this procedure done that my dad’s bullshit story reared its ugly head. I knew he was a liar, but this really hit below the belt.
Over the years, despite the ‘evidence’, I still didn’t see my dad as a liar; I had managed to convince myself he had Stockholm Syndrome. It fit all the boxes I had in my head and my own cognitive dissonance. Seeds of doubt started creeping in. During a period of ‘peace’ when I was on speaking terms with Jack’s Bedwarmer, she told me how frustrating it was living with him because she desperately wanted to sell The House, but he always included crazy clauses like “10 years ownership of the exterior basement so he could have time to empty it.” Huh, definitely not the story I imagined her telling me. My father was the roadblock?
I remember coming home my first summer from University or maybe it was my second year, Maeve was in The South and at the time, I thought she was my enemy; I didn’t realize my father probably threw me under the bus on a regular basis. As a kid, my father’s biggest hesitation, he told me soooo frequently, was that he didn’t want to give another woman half his money. I offered an alternative financial arrangement; I printed how he could set up various companies offshore, in the name of my aunt, my sister, and I, which would be more than sufficient to hide his money. I had researched our tax laws and this was perfectly legal. Option number 2 was similar, and I proposed that he max out each of our RRSPs, I never would have stolen money from him and I knew my sister and aunt would not either. He stored the documentation, was so thankful and I thought he would finally walk away free and happy from the misery he called his life. I was wrong. One night, I made sure he was tipsy and I asked him to describe his perfect retirement moment. He replied:
Jack: I’m in a rocking chair, on the front porch of my house watching the sunset with ‘Ma.
(‘Ma was his nickname for Maeve growing up)
I felt absolutely horrified. He really does have Stockholm Syndrome and I realized he was beyond help. He was lost forever. That was my first excuse. Then I came to see what a liar he is. For years, I told people that I truly believed he stayed with such an abusive woman because he fully believed she was his cross to bear. Only through self-sacrifice did he believe he would make it to heaven. I thought it was pretty ridiculous to begin with, but his beliefs, not mine.
A few years ago, he suddenly stopped going to Church altogether. Funny, he was such a devout Catholic growing up and Church was THE only thing that mattered. When mass grave sites started to come to light at Residential Schools, Jack told Roxanne that he was now refusing to attend Church because of the atrocities of the Catholic Church on “his” people.
WTF
What about all the molested children over the years ("my" people)? What about the Church scandal in the 1980s - current in Massachusetts settling and adding clauses forcing the victims to remain silent? It’s all to cover up, move priests around and prevent further children from coming forward as adults to seek compensation. What about the fact the Church hasn’t even paid what it fully owes? What about the fact he let me be molested? Clearly not a big deal.
Jack is convinced we are of Aboriginal descent. I assure you we are most certainly not. In fact, I did once believe I was Métis. During COVID, I wanted to be vaccinated pronto and used my temporary Métis card to receive my first dose. Later, I was speaking to my sister when she informed me that she had received a letter in the mail informing her that because we were unable to prove our lineage, we would not be qualified for permanent Métis Status cards.
Jack, to this day, does not understand why we need proof – I mean he was President of one of the Métis Association Chapters for several years, and he TOLD the Association countless times he’s Métis. What more proof could they possibly need?! I decided to settle the matter for my own information. In University, one of my part time jobs was working at the Métis Association in Ottawa. I originally set up their database in Access and knew which sites they used to research lineage.
I spit in the cup and sent it off, confident that soon, all would be settled, I would be able to pinpoint the regions of my Aboriginal history, and then could look up birth records. Fortunately, I enjoy research and I knew I would finally be successful in proving our Aboriginal ancestry and finding our land.
The results I received were not very unexpected, but very disappointing; I’m blonde, blue eyed and fair. I always knew my French heritage came from France, Jack absolutely abhors the English; apparently, he’s cool with the Irish.
While I awaited my results, I scoured through all records available; I connected my ancestors to other family trees to find the source of the adopted Aboriginal “Sauvagesse” who gifted me my Aboriginal heritage. Turns out, the adopted lady in question was Black, no I did not confirm it on the Ancestry website, but a few of my relatives confirmed it.
Earlier this year, my father and I were having more and more disagreements. I studied Political Science and have a degree in the field. My father likes to recount the exact same war stories over and over and over again. He met Svetlana (Lenin’s daughter) in Canada, she was a lovely lady, he hates Putin because Putin was a legendary KGB officer, the cruellest of them all, his underlings disbanded and eventually formed the mafia in Russia; eventually emigrating to Canada.
Now that Russia had started attacking Ukraine, Jack started calling me nearly daily and my patience was wearing thin. I didn’t appreciate the liberties he was taking with my time, the assumptions he made or the tone he was taking. Finally, I provided my point of view on the war, and then he actually said:
JackASS: “Shhhhhhh just be quiet and listen!”
Me: “Pardon? You know I studied this in university and I fully understand what’s going on right now.”
JackASS: Continues to explain the war to me.
Me: “OK, now explain to me how what you JUST SAID is any different than what I just said 5 minutes ago.”
JackASS: “Well, never mind that, you need to withdraw all your money from the bank.”
Me: [chuckling] “What money?”
JackASS: “Be quiet and listen, the Russians have hackers and will destroy the banking system; you need to withdraw your money NOW!”
Me: LOL “What money are you talking about? I’m a parent, I have no money. When I say I’ll do something or promise something to my kids, I actually do it. I’m actually paying for my kids to both have braces, and their post secondary fund actually has nearly $60,000 each in it.”
JackASS: [Offended] “What do you mean? I paid for your braces, I paid for your uni –“
Me: What? NO YOU DID NOT! Stop TALKING! Maman paid for my braces you said it was a waste of money. When did you pay for my university?”
JackASS: “I did pay for your braces, I remember!”
Me: “You most certainly did NOT! You told me crooked teeth didn’t matter and I called Monique, she sent ME the cheques and I PAID the dentist when I went to my appointment.”
JackASS: “Well… you and I remember things very differently. I set thirty thousand dollars aside for you and your sister each for school.”
Me: “Really? When? Where is it? I want it. You never did that!”
JackASS: “Well, I uh, -“
Me: “Why the hell do you think I got married?”
JackASS:
without hesitation: “You got married because you were a drug addict, an alcoholic and you
slept around.” Except I know he thinks I was a Call Girl.
Me: “What? Are you serious right now? And who told you that? HER?”
JackASS: sheepishly: “Well, no… someone else….”
Me: “That’s bullshit. I never touched drugs. EVER, you brought me upstairs and made me watch people overdosing! I was terrified that drugs would kill me. The first time I actually touched drugs was when I was 25 years old and your Sow threw a baggie of pot in my lap and ordered me to roll joints for her. I told her I had no idea how to do that because I never tried it before!”
JackASS: “Well, your mother left us - ”
Me: “What are you talking about now?”
JackASS: “We’re in this mess because Monique left, she could have –“
Me: “Shut up! So you always told me the reason you needed Maeve in your life was for custody. OK, so two years after you got custody of us, we were all living together, you saw, after that amount of time, how abusive she was, how much she hated us, how she didn’t want kids. Why didn’t you just leave her? Why didn’t you let her go her own way when you sold the store? She wanted to leave you. You begged her to stay!”
JackASS: “If your mother hadn’t –“
Me: “It takes two to tango dad, the divorce couldn’t have been all her fault!”
JackASS: “Yes it was! She cheated on me! She cheated with her doctor, then she told me and was really sorry she wanted us to start over.”
Me: “And what did you do? Are you actually telling me you were the perfect husband?”
JackASS: “Yes! I did nothing wrong!” I was –“
Me: “Shut up, she left for valid reasons, I want to know why you let HER abuse us and I want to know how you could watch without doing anything. I want to know where my money is for working so hard upstairs, money you promised me!”
JackASS: Laughing like a hyena: “I can’t believe it! You really are! Hahahahahaha wow! Holy shit! You’re as crazy as your mother!”
ME: “YOU OWE ME $100,000”
JackASS: “Your mother –“
Me: “This is the exact reason, right now, why I’ll never speak to you again. I'm hanging up now.”
That’s who my father is. An alcoholic, a hoarder who has rewritten the narrative of my life. I’m surprised he still has 2 daughters in his brain. In my own brain, he died February 22, 2022.
This picture is the photo of a man so happy in life he has to drink himself stupid, he hoards boxes to hide the evidence of his vodka and brandy habit, then falls down. Recently, he broke his arm. He has the gall to tell me I drink too much? Seriously? I don’t, for the record, my preference is Cannabis because it helps calm me when I want to release my rage inappropriately, when I have a migraine I have a strain that relieves my pain, I have one for carpal tunnel, depression, anxiety, and for when I need to be creative. I feel no sympathy for him. He should have dealt with his personality issues long ago before messing up kids he never should have won custody of; he never should have put his own ego above everything; most of all, I wish he could see that the results of his own actions are what have brought grave shame to our family.
May he burn in hell forever, he believes in this imaginary place and he’s terrified of ending up there, so obviously when he dies, he’ll be with “his” people. Send my regards to Putin, Mother Fucker.
I remain convinced my sperm donor never loved me. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he’s truly incapable of doing so. He deserves his past, present, and future, in spades.
Read from the beginning
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