I see hiw my father deliberately, in desperation, played up the beating my mother took and the state i fell into after the overdose as an intractable illness requiring endless further hospitalization: i had started talking to them about the sexual abuse. He had a fragile new job in a new area, which he did end up losing. (He thinks he quit.) I had shown up at tbeir new home in a desperate condition. He was scared. Its always its the coverup thats as bad as the crime.
Thinking about it like this, i can forgive, hes a deperate old man, i dont think that he renembers half of what be did. Hes so into himself its all he knows. In a sense hes an invalid like me, with the loss of a sense of smell and the inconspicuous but serious damage from the stroke. He got lost in his mind.
I have to remind myself of this.