A new member of the dead dads club

Josie, a childhood friend of Jules and Miranda joins the blog today. If you're a long time reader you may remember Josie and her errant husband Dave as the schoolyard friends who helped Miranda move not once but twice she since her divorce. To say the least, life has changed for them...

My Dad, my hero died July 16, 2015. He wasn't always perfect but after caring for my Mom relentlessly for 12 years with Alzheimer's he paid his penitence. 

There is no penitence for what my husband did in the days that followed my Dad's death. 

July 17th we went shopping for appropriate funeral attire. (after losing my Mom in 2011 I wouldn't keep those things in my house).  I lost my wallet/cellphone, I set it down mindlessly and it was stolen. My husband, (who has been referred to as Dave in the past and from now will be here) lost his shit. He yelled at me in front of our son and strangers about being a stupid, wasteful cunt.  There was no "accidents happen" nor " you just said goodbye to the person who has known you since the day you were born, of course you are a little off"... Nope straight to "stupid bitch".

My son and I did not sleep in the house that night, we slept at my dead Dads house. July 18th, visitation day. It sucked, Im an atheist so a bunch of christians saying he is in a better place, happy again with my mother did nothing but piss me off. I know for a damn fact my Dad would be happier alive spending time with my kid, which he did often. 

Anyway, I gave Dave the benefit of doubt and asked if he wanted to go to the visitation with us and stand in that stupid "lets hug cause he is dead" line. At this point, i had forgiven his outburst because i thought maybe he was more touched by Dads death than i realized and the kid really needed us both, it hit the kid hard losing his partner in crime.

So after the 4 hour hell, of reliving my dads last breaths to people i didn't remember meeting, we got in the car to head home. My nerves completely shot, Xanax wasn't touching my issues. Dave lit into me again, apparently my sisters ignored him and other family members didn't give him enough attention. To be fair, I did lose it here and I'm not sure what i said in response. I was way beyond pissed off, I screamed enough that my throat hurt the next day. 

Fast forward, after the burial, we had a family thing at my middle sister's house. Dave and my sister do not like each other at all, which is ok because i don't care for her much either. But our Dad is dead, so we are trying to figure out a relationship. BUT, less than an hour after we planted Dad, Dave couldn't handle being at her house anymore. He commenced yelling at me "I have shit to do, i can't be here all day!" and when approached by my very large, young Marine nephew... "Fuck that bitch, fuck you all" and then had his Dad pick him up. It was bad, so bad that every relative is still worried about me. I confronted him that same day and he didn't have any clue that he was in the wrong. It was a month before he admitted that it was the "wrong time" for his outburst but to this day he has not apologized.

So thats where i begin, i have not been an award winning wife, but being a good daughter is in my blood. I will make my Daddy proud and leave this jackass.