Massive Coronary.

My father has been married to his new wife for just over a year now. He's been seeing her for longer (due to his pesky divorce that took an excessive amount of time to complete), almost three years now. I've gotten used to my wicked stepmother. Living with her, and accepting her as only a mildly fucked-up bitch who completely ruined any sort of normal family function that could possibly happen during the rest of my life has what I've come to terms with. I blame fifty per cent of this fact on my biological mother and my stupidly-always-drunk biological father as well.

I've known Mir for years. When I was little, my father traveled with Canada's premier Southern Gospel Band for almost fifteen years. He missed a lot of baseball games, a lot of highschool band concerts and a lot of my mother's lunacy.
I met Mir and her husband, Jimmy on the rare occasion that my father took me with him on the road, I loved being on that bus. It was like having seven grandfather's spoil you constantly and when I got old enough to count back money, I manned the record table, selling tapes and CD's to old women with blue hair. It was awesome.

Mir and Jimmy were newer additions to the band. They were from Buffalo and they were strange. I remember noticing one night on the bus how my father seemed to daze in and out of consciousness when Mir was around. I didn't think anything of it until three years later when my mother told me he had an affair.

I never felt bad for my mother, but I did feel bad for Jimmy. He seemed like such a feeble man. He was always so gentle and kind and he literally seemed like he had been doing nothing but following everything his wife told him to do for years, out of fear that she would leave him if he didn't. I'm sure that wasn't the case, or maybe it could have been. That's just how things seemed.
Mir was ordered to pay him $800.00 USD a month in alimony when she left him. He lived in a small apartment, and with his wife not around to cook him meals, he gained an excessive amount of weight and ultimately became so obese his heart failed him. He died just a couple days ago.

I live with my Father and Step Mother and out of the three of us, I'm sure I am the most upset about his death. Well, at least it seems that way. Mir hasn't shed a tear and my Father's only concern was to make sure I notified my Mother about it because he doubted anyone would tell her. I'm sure they're both quite relieved that the large sum of money they paid him monthly will finally be going towards paying off their massive amounts of credit bills.

That's fucked.

I can't imagine being, "just fine" after someone I spent thirty plus years with kicked the bucket. I can't imagine smiling knowing that the father of my four children is going to be buried in a couple of days and I definitely can't imagine how I'd ever forgive myself for it, 'cause I'm sure I'd harbour a ridiculous amount of guilt.