Cleaning

So, I've been going through old papers.  The best thing I could do is douse them in gasoline and burn it all.  But, you never know when you will need old papers.  My dad is a pack rat, and he would save every single sheet of paper if he could, I think.

So, when Katrina hit in 2005, we lived in New Orleans.  Everything was fucked up.  My boss didn't know if she was going to reopen the restaurant.  My husband was working harder than ever to keep up with the prep and the demand that was created by the fact that most of the restaurants were closed.  My parents urged me not to stay in New Orleans.  They dangled the allegorical carrot in front of me; if we stayed in New Orleans they would not help us buy a house or open a restaurant, and they would not support if we did either without them.  So, they so much as told us that if we started a new life somewhere else, they would help us financially when the time came.

So, we picked San Diego.  A day or two before we were supposed to drive across the country, I got sideswiped at a 4 way stop.  My husband had to leave without me, and I waited around to straighten out the business with the insurance and the car repairs.

After a couple weeks the other insurance company finally acknowledged fault and directed me to find a repair shop.  I relayed the information to my parents.  They did not want me to get the car fixed and drive it across the country, so they told me that they would help me buy a new car.  Originally, I was told that they were going to have the car towed back to Lakeland to be fixed, and then I was told to go ahead and get put it in the garage, and they would drive to New Orleans to pick it up when it was done.

Months later, I called my mom and asked for the financial assistance that they had offered me to buy a car in San Diego.  As usual, she told me to write a letter, since my dad was hard of hearing and could not communicate on the phone.  So, this is the opening of the response that I received from my dad.

(no formal greeting)

"I can recall when we give you advice you do not even give an answer just ignore it.  After all I am thinking you are the captain of your destiny the master of your soul.

I have emphasized that estimate is needed before work can be done so that the plan of work is accetable, but you give the a go head to d the work it without giving any estimate?

Now they produce an invoice based on estimate which do not include a new door date Nov 10 which do not include a new door just rebuilt the old one, probably they just put some bondo to mold to the original shape. and it ends up to the same amount.  I find it hard to communicate with people specially when the know better.

You have given the names of diferent people who can check the car for us, I felt they do not even have any knowledge about the nomenclature of an automotive system."



Then it goes on about how I am spoiled for asking for another car.  It's basically the "walking 20 miles in the snow to school" story.  Which is all well and good.  Maybe I am a spoiled brat compared to my older sisters.  But, how much of being a spoiled brat is the brat's fault?  Certainly not 100%.  A brat cannot spoil herself all on her own.  My mom's advice was to take the criticisms and insults without arguing, because he would give me the money.  He did give me the money.  Little did I know, that my silence, my "taking of the criticisms" would be perceived by my dad as me not even giving an answer, just ignoring it because I am the master of my destiny, the captain of my soul.  Why shouldn't I be though.  Why does my dad want to be the master of my destiny, and more creepily, the captain of my soul.  What does he know about my soul?  What does he know of his own soul?  I don't want anyone else but me to be the master of my destiny or the captain of my soul.

Years later, so much has happened.  But my dad still thinks the same about me.  I'm spoiled, uneducated, I don't know how to take care of a car, don't know how to communicate, and I don't take his valuable advice.

Meanwhile he has two cars that should still be perfectly drivable, sitting in the backyard, rusting and overgrown with weeds and wasp nests.