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My father died at age 49 of a massive heart attack when I was 18. Some times I think I wonder if I was the cause of his death. You see my dad was a mean, manipulating, greedy, self centered man when he drank ed. He treated my mom with such hate and resentment. Growing up he treated my older sister and myself like queens. Anything we asked or wanted he would do anything to give it to us. I had a middle brother who my father abused emotionally and physically. When I was about 6 I remember my father coming home drunk and waking my brother up from his sleep. He picked him up from his back and threw him on the floor. He was cursing and yelling because he did not take the trash out. My mother came in the room and pushed him away from my brother. But my father was stronger and began to push my mother against the wall. On the wall was a fan that was blowing with no cover. He kept pushing and pushing getting closer to the fan. I was horrified thinking he was going to cut my mother to pieces. My brother got on his knees crawling to unplug the fan and he did just in time before my mom hit the fan with her back. My mother suffered with his hateful ways, leaving her to fend to find food for us and money to pay the bills. She vowed to never leave us no matter what and she never did. My mother was diagnosed with lupus when she was 40 and had to stop working. Back in the 70's lupus was considered a rare disease. My dad's abuse escalated now to him she was fat lazy no good of a woman. The steroids she had to take made her gain a lot weight. He gave my mom this calendar of fat woman and told her that was how she looked. This continued thru the years of his mental and emotion abuse towards my mother and brother. I was about 12 when I was more aware of what my dad was doing and I started rebelling against him. I was feeling guilty of the difference in how he treated me and my mother and brother. My sister had gone and married very young to get away from my dad. I then began to fight and defend my mother after my brother left home at age 15. He then started the abuse towards me and making my life miserable.

When I was 18 something in me snapped. I told my dad I needed to talk to him. It was on a Saturday, I began to bring up the past of his abusive behavior, his cruelty, his manipulative ways, even specific incidents that scared me for life. I talked about 2 hours and my dad never spoke a word all the time I was talking. I finally ended the conversation with

" Dad I love

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