Revised on 9-14-2026 at 1:30pm
Most of us tend to share only exaggerated good times, after the death of a loved one. For a short time, this may help us to some degree. But then reality must be faced, because its not healthy to avoid it. I think it's important to be more honest and I am taking it to an extreme, with some of my worse memories, in this post.
One of the real truths about my father is that he was a mild form of a pedophile; he had encouraged at least one of his toddler aged children to touch him. And then he later strived to prevent anyone from ever knowing about it - he started brutally mentally abusing one of his adult children out of fear of his shameful act possibly being remembered or exposed.
When I first started looking back at and healing from the tough times in my childhood, in the late 1980s, my father had tried to convince me that something was wrong with me - that I should not be wanting to look at my childhood, and that my "mother had the same problem." Then after I went into counseling and the counselor told me there was nothing wrong with me and encouraged me to continue looking back and healing, he tried to get me to stop seeing the counselor and kept drilling me with, "Nothing good ever came from looking at the past"...etc. Then, when I would not let go of it, he strived to keep me separated from my siblings. I was literally shunned from my family. My looking back at the past was clearly a huge threat to him, and I didn't even suspect or realize why until 2004, after my sisters triggered his launch into even more severe levels of mental abuse. Then he and my second oldest sister started trying to convince me that I am insane and should be put into an asylum. Ironically, the sudden outrageously abusive aims to cover up his shameful act is what helped to exposed it; I realized what he did because of my search for reasons for his mental abuse, and then was forced to speak up about it, because of his ongoing mental abuse and aims to turn other people against me.
2004 was a VERY tough year for me. Words cannot express how painful it had been to face the fact that my own father cared about me so little, that he was trying to destroy my sanity, and had destroyed what little was left of my relationships in the rest of the family, in order to cover his own mistake. It still hurts. But I now sometimes feel more sad for him than I do for myself, because he was his own worse enemy in this whole situation and he must have been miserable - so filled with shame and guilt that was never resolved. If only he had chosen a better path - a way to deal with his initial mistake that would have been good for him and everyone else. The dark path he chose put me in a position where I had to either stand up and tell the truth or accept the "insane" label and possibly even be shoved into an insane asylum. In 2006 I chose to tell the truth. I matter too. Then doubt later settled in and I washed it all away and forgave him..., but then my two older sisters (and father?) dredged the ugly mess back up through slamming me with another round of severe mental abuse at the worse possible time - directly after his death in 2024. They did this in an addendum to this will.
Since then I have been facing the real facts more deeply then I ever have. And many new puzzle pieces have been clicking into place. And I feel that I must fully expose the real truth, for everyone's sake; the real truth is that my father had launched into rounds of mental abuse, in order to hide his shameful act, since I started looking back at my childhood in the 1980s. And my sisters, who had always been hatefully jealous of me, had cruelly triggered and fueled and joined his drive against me, although they secretly knew the real truths in this whole situation, long before I did.
My father's inappropriate sexual behavior was so mild that it had no affect on me. It was not forceful or abusive. I was so little that it would have been no different from holding his hand. And it appears to have been just one incident when I was around one year old. BUT, the mental abuse and slanders that he launched into, in order to cover it up, and the hateful roles my sisters played in the whole situation, were horrifically hurtful to me. Aside from the mental abuses and fabrications, I lost my whole family in a way that was far worse than if they had all been killed in a plane crash. I have been almost completely separate from my family since around 1990. Trust was completely shattered. And I had even lost trust in my own sanity, on two occasions. It was devastating. I do not know if I will ever fully recover from the pain of it all, especially since its not even over yet! Even though my father is gone, other members of my family still hold that axe over my head; they still say that I am "crazy" or "insane" and that I "belong in an asylum." I know that they say it out of hatful aims to scare or hurt me. But will they act on it and try to have me imprisoned? I don't know. I know they can't, without fabricating things, but they have proven to be more than capable of that. I still do not feel safe. :-(
I share this publicly, for all the people whom it could help to validate or save from such horrific experiences. The problem of adults being (even just mildly) sexually inappropriate with children must have more exposure, so that people are less inclined to do it; public knowledge instilling a fear of exposure, in those who can't care about the children, can save the children from these types of experiences. And the horrid crime of calling the victims "insane" or "crazy" or "mentally ill," in order to hide the shameful act, must also have more exposure, so that it can be recognized for what it is and stopped.
My father was also not some of the things that my sisters claimed he was in his 2024 obituary. He did not "raise" his six children alone after our mother died - he actually abandoned the two who were not already grown up by then - my two little brothers. He had even kicked one of them out of the house when he was only around 15 years old and was in desperate need of the understanding and love that my father was not capable of. I was 18 and my other three siblings were older than that when our mother died; we'd already been raised and were mostly not living at his home. And I was actually mostly raised by a two sets of surrogate parents, through all of my teen years, because of my own father and mother rarely being there for me. (They were my saving grace.) My father actually seemed to never really want any of the children whom he often avoided when we were young, and then latter rarely even initiated contact with, except for when he wanted something.
My father was actually not a "creative" type of person at all; most of his conversations and writings came from other people's experiences and writings. (He actually used to repeat my wisdom as if it were his own!) The real truth is that he was a man who had never really found himself, never fully lived life, and never faced or did anything to address or help heal or resolve any of the most important family issues that had needed his attention. He actually sometimes mischievously fueled or instigated problems instead of being the adult. (He was not really the "patriarch"/leader of our family; my abusive oldest sister actually controlled almost everything, including him, which is why I left home when I was 15 years old.) My father was actually like a child who just stumbled through the family, and life, avoiding all the depths. He was a man who was so filled with shame that he had a hard time facing people; he had mostly isolated himself from society through his whole adult life. He actually had no close friends, except for his brother Jr.
And my father did not really die in a "loving" home; he actually died after being taken from his own home and kept isolated, against his will, in an emotionally abusive environment, where he (no doubt) gave up on his own life very quickly. Both of my older sisters wanted most of his money for themselves, and they manipulated many things and even abused and separated their own siblings and father, in order to make sure they got it. I have felt deeply sad for my father, because, with them at the helm, he was not only deeply hurt in his final years, but also had no chance to have a healthy closure with his two remaining sons and I, while he was on his death bed. And this was not good for anyone, especially not for him. Although I tried in every way I could, I was not able to save my father - to return him to his own home, where he wanted to be, and get him the proper kinds of help. :-(
My father's life and death were not at all like what has been portrayed publicly. Much of it was sad as hell. This is the real truth.
P.S. Now I wonder if my father played a role in putting me on a "hit list" to be covertly targeted. He is the one who most intensely wanted people to think I was crazy, which is what the covert targeting is designed to do. :-(