I�ve crawled around inside my head quite a lot during the process of writing this story down. I�ve uncovered memories which were so long buried that I had forgotten they had once seen the light of day. Even so, there are a few memories that have refused to remain buried. I�ve told myself that I wouldn�t write about certain events because they were too� well, because they were just too mean. I think I�m going to include them, though.

I�m going to include these negative memories for two reasons: 1) If I tell the story about my life, I can�t exclude the most influential experiences and remain true. 2) Dad gave me tacit permission. His exact words were, �Tell it all.� I�m not sure if he knows what that really means, because I was reading him a chapter about the WonderFink. I don�t know if he�d feel the same way if he knew the most negative aspect of my life was his burden.

Telling all scares me; especially when that telling means pointing the finger at Dad. Mom is a different person today as compared to who she was during my childhood. I�ve already painted a bleak picture of her, but she is a very different person today. Dad, however, well� Dad did a couple things I don�t really want to reveal to the world. Because of my reticence, I have the feeling this chapter may well be a stilting read. I apologize now.

Everyone makes mistakes. This is simply a part of human existence. While every mistake impacts the offender, often the offend-ee feels a greater impact. In my opinion, the impact doesn�t always come only once. Often, I think, the ripples of the offence return again and again and again.

I think of it this way:

When a person is shot, the person who pulls the trigger is affected by his actions, but the person who took the bullet is affected more intensely. Sometimes the person who was shot isn�t able to get the bullet out of their body. In these cases, the bullet is often felt repeatedly. Memories resurface and the body reacts whether the brain is engaged or not.

Similarly there are three incidents of disciplinary action perpetrated by my father which so strongly affected me that they were the basis for more than two full decades of anger, despair, rage and enmity. I felt these things about my father in varying degrees at various times, but enmity seemed to occupy the majority of the last decade.

Now, because this book is partially a vehicle to �set the record straight�, I must pause here to clear up a misconception of my step-sister-in-law. To YDZ:

My Dad is a flawed man. He made some mistakes. He also did some things which were despicable, tragic, bad and so wrong that he personally caused anger, rage, terror and hatred to rip a family apart. This is true. However, he did not, ever, sexually molest me. He did not sexually tease me. He did not sexually abuse me in any way, shape or form. I am not fat because of the wrong things Dad did. I am not showing a �text book reaction to sexual abuse perpetrated by a father figure�. I am fat because I choose to eat Cheetos rather than carrots.

Yes, Dad can be a crude, crass oaf at times, but he is not now, nor has he ever been, a child molester. Please start thinking for yourself rather than accepting someone else�s lies as holy truth. Stop thinking about your own fears and experiences and apologize to him for your rude, thoughtless, recalcitrant and ignorant behavior.

Straighten up, Y. You are too old to behave like a petulant five year old.

End Rant

Now, to whomever told YDZ that Dad was a child molester:

Spreading a lie such as that is the lowest form of low-class. Grow up.

Now, Onward.

As I mentioned, there were three incidents of discipline enacted by my father which rocked me to the core. The first was an obtuse misunderstanding on his part. The second was an ego-prompted mistake. The third caused a rift in our family which has yet to be healed. I�m hoping that with this �telling� we will be able to heal ourselves and the family.