The madness is finally over. Only another 329 days until the unofficial start of Christmas begins. Enough with that for now.
Over the Christmas holiday, I receive an email from my half-brother who lives in Florida stating that our father was in the hospital. My brother and I do not speak to our father. He heard the news through one of his maternal family members from back home in the Mid-Atlantic. I know my brother probably couldn't get much information about the hospitalization, etc. I know my father has to be really sick for him to be hospitalized. He absolutely hates hospitals and doctors. I am actually surprised that my father has lived this long.
The last time I acutally saw my father was before I went off to college. It was not a good time. I had to call the police and have him arrested. He has hated me from that point on. We never got a long since I can remember from my childhood. We are two completely different people. If he is to pass away, I will not attend any service for him. My father's family hates me just as much as he does because I decided to better my life and not stick with the family. I will cry when I know he has passed on, but that's only because I have some of his DNA. After that, life goes on.