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Member since: 2003 before July 6th
Number of posts: 41,811

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How to handle RW NJ's in your family

My brother was getting married. He waited until the last minute to tell our parents that he had converted to Sufiism (mystical Islam).

Our father had a fit at the rehearsal dinner and tried to turn the family against our brother. Mom was resentful. Our sister went along with our father b/c she was afraid of him.

I didn't have a problem b/c it was none of my business except when it came to attacking my brother.

Here is the dialogue between me and my father:

Dad: Did you see what your brother is wearing?
Me: Yeah, it's a necklace with an amulet.
Dad: What language is that?
Me: Arabic.
Dad: Do you know what it says?
Me: Yeah. It says "Allah".
Dad: (ill-disguised slow burn). And did you see that photograph in the foyer?
Me: Yeah.
Dad: Do you know what it is?
Me: Yeah, it's Mecca at night during the Haj.
Dad: Don't you think it's terrible?
Me: No, I don't.
Dad: Why not?
Me: Because you only have to go to the Haj once in your life. If you had to go every year, it would be "terrible".

New Topic
Dad: Don't you understand why I'm so upset?
Me: No. (I didn't want to get into it with our father . . . . )
Dad: What would you think of me if I joined the American Nazi Party?
Me: (thoughtfully) Gee Dad, I don't think they take Jews . . . . .
Dad: Never mind. What would you think of me if I joined the Ku Klux Klan?
Me: Three things: One, I'll always be your daughter. Two (big sigh . . . . ) You'll always be my father. And Three (get ready for it) Don't come looking for me to help you burn a cross.

And with that, Dad moved to the other side of the table.

Epilogue: My brother is married 22 years now. Dad is dead and to show that he loved us all the same, he disinherited all of us.

These were the comic books my father made me throw out in 1969

because he believed Readers' Digest or whatever about how comic books led to juvenile delinquency:

Archie comics
Dennis the Menace

No violence. Throwbacks to the Fifties. Superheroes. White bread.

My father never looked at what I was reading but just saw comic books and knew my mind was being polluted.

And no, I have not forgiven him for making me throw them away. I paid for them. They belonged to me.

Postscript: Dad struck again in 1972. He made me throw out the sheet music for Don MacLean's "American Pie." But this time, I waited for him to go to bed and retrieved it from the garbage. I still have it.

I'm glad for Tiffany Trump.

Hear me out please.

She has finally escaped the familial bonds of her biological father, Donald J. Trump. Until her wedding, Tiffany has been dependent and under the control of her father for financial survival. All she had to do was to follow his rules, his whims, his demands -- like her siblings. From the moment she was conceived. She knew better than to challenge and to cross her father. He would have cut her off without blinking.

I don't know if she married for love or money or both. But she married someone her father can't threaten because of his wealth. She is safe.

Why do I care? Because I was raised in a similar situation. When my sister married, I knew she was safe. Me, I stayed single and did continuous battle with our father who had plans for me. I defied each demand and suffered as a result. I was freed when he died. Sure, I was disinherited, but I was still free.

So, Tiffany, make the most of your life. You've earned it.
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