….my father had every other weekend visitation rights. Most of the time he didn’t come every weekend. Sometimes he’d call with some lame ass excuse. Most times he didn’t call at all.
That is a crap feeling having your bags packed ready to go and just sit and wait. As a mother now myself I can only imagine how crappy that was for my mom.
Before my dad remarried and on the occasions when he DID pick us up it was great for the most part. He lived with his parents. And we’d have a blast, playing monopoly, staying up late, watching movies, some AWESOME, some probably nto so good. I still to this day thank my dad for opening my eyes to some very awesome cinema.
Then he married Liz*(not her real name). It didn’t take long for the pattern of control to begin. Not just control of her but of us as well. We woke up when he was ready for us to get up and went to bed when he told us, not before even if we were tired.
She wasn’t allowed to work. She wasn’t allowed to have a car. When they did their morning shower routine they did it together ALWAYS. And always went into the room and left at the same time.
We’d sometimes sit for HOURS at the kitchen table, listening to him talk about how life “will be one day” How my mom had us for x number of years and how it waws HIS turn. Like we were some damned video game.
It was all about control. How he could control those around him. The abuse started slowly but became more obvious and more frequent as the months/years went by…..