The past few months, I’ve witnessed the breakdown of a family that I once thought was impenetrable by any sort of negative force. My family.
A family that I thought would put family first, before money, personal gain and reputation. But I’ve realized that these days, blood means next to nothing. I witnessed my father coming back from work, where his boss is a cruel, ruthless scumbag and, unfortunately, a relative. This tyrannical fuck used to treat my family (my parents, brother and I) all the time, with gifts, trips and words of so-called kindness. This was when my dad was still working for him, and everything was going well with the business and all. But just because my dad decided one day that he would rather do his own thing, he gave his notice, after 24 years of hard work. To which this cretin not only refuses to accept it at first, but cut all ties with my family. He might as well have spit on my father. This man really put the dick in dictator, as not only did my dad quit without a severance package, he let go of the dedicated staff that worked in my dads department. My dad is at the airport right now with my mother, both of them comforting a member of staff right now, who has been crying for the last few hours. She had been at the company for almost as long as my dad himself.
After seeing these series of events unfold, all I can say is that I’ve really learnt that, just because someone is family, we can never truly trust them. Sure, we have the same blood. But what does that really mean? History has shown brothers murdering brothers, mothers sacrificing their children for their own personal gain. Of course, it is not as drastic in this day and age, but this was still pretty shit. You think you know someone, but you really don’t know what they will pull, simply because of a change that wasn’t previously predicted. I’m willing to bet that he (I refuse to call him an uncle anymore) assumed my father would work for him all his life, and couldn’t stand the fact that my dad wanted to go towards another path. It sickens me that he ignored the years of hard work my dad put in. On the contrary, he should’ve told my dad that he was sad that he was leaving, but grateful for his work and wish him luck for the future. This would’ve happened if he was a decent human being, let alone family.
I’ve also learnt that expectations from people should only be built upon during difficult times that you have faced together. The gifts and everythign received from him… it was all materialistic crap. What my family really needed throughout it all was support. Something only given when it was convenient for him, and never for us.