Grandpa Died and I Laughed

Story:  Things told to me that are one person's view and are likely slanted

Fact: Things I know from personal experience

 Like so many parts of my life that exist only in stories I learned one day recently that (Story) father had died in the care of a sibling who (Story) didn't love him; who (Story) was an addict; who (Fact) was angry and had this powerful need to prove something.  Father, absent even when present, was (Fact) a sickly, mean, alcoholic, abusive, depressed psychotic poor excuse of a man.  Nonexistent to me for decades now.  It was during a telephone conversation with my youngest son from prison (him, not me)- the first time we'd spoken since the last time he was on the high side of one of his meth slopes & valleys (several years ago now)- when I remembered and casually mentioned it.  "Oh, I forgot.  Your grandfather died."  I laughed.  "Oh, umm, okay," he said.  And then he laughed.  

Things I've learned over the years come only from siblings and assorted others, but I also learned late in life to take everything with a grain of salt.  My wife forced me to see things this way.  The drama, depression and addiction has steered my family for years, and until my wife's lesson I'd just taken everyone at their word.

The same, I suppose, goes for mother.  I'm told (Story) she died a few years ago.  At least two siblings (Story) saw her after she passed, but (Fact) I never got to. The funeral director was so ired by my obnoxioux family that (Fact) when I contacted him to request a visit to pay my last respects he (Fact) said he didn't want me there.

I've (Fact) never seen an obituary for either parent.  

Funny, I was told once by an old family friend that (Story) my uncle was actually my father.  But that's for another post.