One of my relatives has been sending me e-mails asking me to send pictures of Dad’s gravestone. I’ll be happy to oblige, once I actually go visit his grave. I keep meaning to go but just can’t bring myself to do it. I’m still very angry with him for so many, many things: the way he treated his children, the way he treated my mother, DEFINITELY some of the things he did and said to my son. Most of all, I’m angry with him for not going to get the tests he was told repeatedly to get! No fewer than four doctors stressed urgently he needed to get the mass in his neck looked at because it could be cancer. Did he go? Nope. He found excuses and blustered and fussed and failed to keep his appointments each time. I’m also angry at him for leaving a huge mess behind for me and my brother to clean up. Typical Dad, leave the sh!t for someone else to clean up. I’m angry about the lies he told everyone, the times he wasn’t there, basically a lifetime of betrayals, in several different forms. So I haven’t worked myself up to be able to go to his grave yet. Not because I’m horrendously sad, like I was when Mom died. More because I know I’ll wind up getting arrested if I start defacing a tombstone in a National Cemetery – even if it does belong to my father. I’ve learned over the past several months that just because he’s dead doesn’t mean my anger went away.