Yesterday was the 6th anniversary of 14 year old Daughter Number One’s repeated rape and murder by my husband of over nine years.  NOT AN ACT OF LOVE.


Yesterday Daughter Number Two’s Baby Daddy was at my home to see her. Eating my food, using my internet, watching my television. A funeral plan advertisement came on t.v. and he said ‘ Do you have to have a funeral?’ I said I didn’t think you needed the ceremony but obviously you have to dispose of your body somehow. ‘You have to have a coffin right?’ ‘How much do these things cost?’ I replied that the last time I was planning a funeral I wasn’t looking for a bargain and left the room.


Baby Daddy of Daughter Number Two ended his visit with an argument about the fact that the current person of interest will be coming to see me next week. I understand his feelings of hurt and anger but object to his manner of expressing them. He is put out because he doesn’t feel he can visit his daughter here if the current person of interest is also here. I pointed out that seeing his daughter at his ex-wife’s house has been his choice, indeed his preference, but that I would be happy to accommodate him by dropping her off to his place.


This man, who has known me for 5 years, and was in a relationship with me for over three of those, either had no concept of the relevence of the date, or did know and did not care less. Which is the better option?


I need to treat myself with the compassion and understanding, the kindness and consideration that I show others. So, I am taking a stand and will not be bending over backwards for Daughter Number Two’s Baby Daddy, or anyone else, anymore. My head is pounding and pain killers have had no effect. I am shaking from running on adrenalin for over twenty four hours. The countdown to the anniversary has coincided with moving Nana to an Aged Care Facility and settling her in. My trip to see the current person of interest this weekend, to regroup and relax and celebrate his birthday, before he comes home with me, has been highjacked by arranging and facilitating the removal of some of Nana’s things to my place. I am grumpy, tired, out of sorts and just not feeling well.


But tomorrow really is another day, and anger is more motivating to me than paralyzing sadness. One lesson I learnt from my beautiful Daughter Number One was not to give up. I may be down , but I am not out.


Comments on: "I know what love isn’t." (2)

  1. I hope and think you’ll find on arrival that Nana’s stuff has been packed up for you as well as is humanly possible – at least as far as this human can manage. I couldn’t have taken more care or spent more time on all of this, and part of that has been trying not to add to your week. I’m really sorry you feel your weekend’s been hijacked, Kate, but rest assured I’ve been having a hell of a time too!

    I agree wholeheartedly with what you say about Baby Daddy.

    • kate4samh said:

      Oh Di, I meant my weekend had been hijacked by circumstance, not by you. I know how much work you’ve done and I appreciate how much easier you have made what little is left for me. I am feeling overwhelmed and have physical symptoms from pushing myself past my limits. At a time when I would have liked to have been able to cut myself some slack things have been just crazy here, on a number of levels. It seems like everything has happened at once except the things I really would have liked to happen. You have shouldered the bulk of the responsibility for Nana for years now Di, and I know and appreciate that. I also know you have worked your butt off to make things as easy as possible for me this weekend too, and I appreciate that greatly. There was no disrespect intended.

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