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No. 9844
This is kind of extensive, but I really want to get it out.
28th of July my father died.
Shortly thereafter, my stepsister pretty much disowned me, claiming I was holding out on her inheritance, when my father didn’t leave her anything. We have no documentation, he had no Will, no insurance policy. The only thing any of us got was his Benefits from his time in the military, which I received as his next-of-kin, and I am putting away in a savings account, some of which went to paying for the funeral. The house was in both his and my mom’s names, so the house goes right to her, and dad really didn’t have much else. She refused to allow my sister, Erin, into the funeral home early to get a few moments alone with my father. She nearly fored her to stay out of the funeral home when we were talking preparations for the funeral, and fought to have a religious service the next day when my father hadn’t been to church in 40+ years and wouldn’t have wanted that for shit. She also had them play ‘Danny Boy’, which my father hated because it reminded him of his dead son. When I informed her that Erin would be staying right there in the office, she said ‘Well then I guess we aren’t burying our father’. She continued the claim that Erin wasn’t his daughter, even though he’d raised her from the time she was three. She also never made a single mention of dad’s son, who died when he was a baby from a heart condition.
I told her to grow the fuck up. She’s 36 years old, I’m 18, and I’m more mature than she is.
Step sister’s mother, my father’s ex-wife, ordered a pendant with my dad’s fingerprints on them for me. I was indebted to her, for that, because I only had enough money to pay the funeral home. Shortly after the disowning, she cancelled this order.
Step sister stole dad’s briefcase with all documentation, refuses to give it back.
Dad’s girlfriend/friend Don probably took his car keys, we cannot find them.
At the funeral, I stood up in front of the entire congregation and told stories about my dad. They were funny, sweet stories of my father, and they expressed how much I loved him. I talked about what a pain in the ass he was, about the stupid things he’d done, and how much he meant to me. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, to stand up there and talk about my father in the past tense, with his body behind me in a casket, and realize the fact that when I get married, I will be walking down the aisle alone.
Shortly thereafter I received a letter telling me how my father never loved me and I was white trash. How I was going to hell, and how my mother and my sister were fake, white trash bitches.
It's been a month, and things have calmed down, and now that entire side of my family/people I know, have cut me out of their lives. My grandmother and aunt haven't called me once, nobody from my family in Florida has talked to me since the funeral, and the people my father called 'friends' have been talking shit about me and my mother and sister.
I'm tired, so tired. These were people I honestly thought gave a shit about me and trusted me, I'm betrayed and hurt and mourning.
And fuck, three days ago we had to put one of our cats to sleep so this has not been the best damn past two months for me.
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