Deathbed Apologies (do you smell that?)

**(update already and I haven't published this yet.  Jeff texted me that his dad is awake and looks better.  I responded with a succinct LOL.  Jeff replied 'same routine'.  Holding off on cute dress for funeral again)**

Jeff's dad is in the hospital (again, forever and ever, world without end, amen) and has been since just after Thanksgiving.

[they had tried to guilt us into coming for TD and I told Jeff sincerely to JUST GO but I wasn't going to put myself on a narc dinner platter in that house of disease.  He chose to spend it with me, natch.  His mom even called me (ME!) and used her airy-fairy voice on me 'if you guys aren't busy tomorrow...' uh, no thx see ya - we didn't go obv]

Anywhozle this hospital trip has revealed that nDad still has 'c difficile' which is an intestinal infection that is essentially non-curable.  He also still has MRSA along with the 3 types of cancer he's had for years.  But it's this infection that is, finally, killing him (praise jesus call the undertaker)

End of life specialist meeting called this morning at 9 - Jeff is there right now.  I am NOT there.  My dog has a bladder infection and I am taking her to the vet.  I haz priorities.  Besides, this is a meeting that wives and in-laws do not need to attend.

PUNCHLINE:

Jeff's brother told Jeff 'dad would like to clear things up with Casey before he dies' (paraphrase but you get the jist) which.  HELL-lo.

1.  Admission of guilt.  Old fucker knows he was a complete asshole MANY times over and that he is the reason I wont speak to them anymore

2.  The Narc Playbook!  Isn't one of the last rules in it telling the narc to have a Deathbed Confession?!  EXCEPT - it will just be shuck-&-jive, more jibber-jabber, more bullshit and finger pointing.  There is never an admission of guilt, and then an apology, and then a request for forgiveness.

This is playing out like a made for tv movie.

And the kicker is, really - he didn't do anything to ME.  He was a horrific raging asshole to my husband, and to the rest of his immediate family, to which I had a reaction and chose to sever contact. Ain't nobody treats my husband like that and get's no consequences.  But actually TO ME?  nah, the man never raged at me.  He was shitty, and all that, but never RAGED at me.

So why me?  I'll tell you why.  I'm the only one who SAW HIM.  I'm the one who called him AND his family on their bullshit.  I know he could hear me in the background when he was yelling and narc-raging at Jeff on the phone that one time - He could hear me saying !!!WHAT?!? and whatnot in the background.  He had a witness to his insanity from outside the narc-circle.  And now he wants to plug that hole.  Somebody HAD to be the scapegoat, and Keith, the brother (who went to Vegas but ended up in Baker, remember?) who has typically been the SG was now the caretaker and the sister who shared the SG role was DONE and was on very LC with them, and Jeff is the GC so...  oh hey!  it's ME!  lol.  Scapegoat again *shakes fist*  it's just, sad kinda - because he has no power.  And since I went NC with that entire family, I never heard any of the bad-mouthing that I'm sure I got.

I can hear it now "I meant well, I was a very sick man, I was upset, let's put this all behind us what does any of this matter?  let's pray" and that entire thing will be a non-admission, a non-apology, and a non-starter.

BUT - and here is the nut of the issue.  I don't give a fuck.  I don't want an apology, because he didn't do anything to me!  He hurt my husband badly - so apologize to him?  I don't care what he says, or how he says it.  Jeff want's me to go and let the old man do his thing and die in peace.  And for Jeff, I can do that.  I guess.  *shrug*

Sometimes, you do things simply so you do not look like an asshole to other people.  This is one of those times.  I'm going to see Jeff's family at bbqs and whatnot every once in a while for the next 20 years.  I'm vain and selfish enough to want to be known as 'the forgiver', lol.  I'M A HORRIBLE PERSON, I get this.  But I will go, and stand in that room, and let him talk.  And I might say something in reply like 'do you like these shoes?  I think mice are so cute!  woof woof!' and mess with his deathbed head.  And then when he tells people after I leave that I said things like that, they will shake their heads and think the morphine kicked in.  And I get to look like the good guy.

And after THAT I will go home and take 7 showers and then take clorox bleach wipes to my car and door handles and wash my clothes in hot water.

And hopefully NOW i can start shopping for a cute black dress.  Hopefully now there will be a funeral.

(OH and I checked the VA death benefits page and the VA pays $300 for funeral costs.  Looks like I need to start looking for a cardboard fridge box behind Sears because I AM NOT PAYING FOR A FUNERAL oh hell no)

For fun, I will provide links to the prior madness:
Watching a train wreck
The hits keep on coming
I'll burn it down first