Posts tagged ‘son’

Nadyne Harts No More

I haven’t written in a long ass time. There have been many reasons for it. The main reason was because I didn’t want people in my life anymore. I was tired of people reading my blogs hoping to get some sort of information out of it, that eventually I just gave up.

Almost 2 years later, my life has changed so much. My son is 4 years old and is starting prek which is crazy. I don’t feel old enough to have a kid going to school. He went to day care, head start, but those were programs preparing him for school, and now here he is, my big boy, starting school in a few days. The funny thing is that I look at him, and see the boy i used to carry, the boy who needed me for everything. I reflect on the last 4 years of my life, and wish i had him back then, with the knowledge and wisdom that i have now. But either way, my son is amazing. He is the true love of my life and no one can replace that love for him. I just can’t believe he’s getting so big.

2 years ago, i remember writing my blog about my older sister giving birth to my niece. We just celebrated her birthday and its crazy how big she is. Its crazy how much time has passed since she was in my sister’s belly. Whenever she sees me, she runs up to me and waves, hi Tia, she’ll tell me. I ask for a kiss and she gives me her forehead, as if this is the designated area permitted for kisses.

Oh and seeing her and my son together? Absolutely magical. We’ve been going to alot of family events where my other cousins see the two of them together. My niece? She’s a fiesty one. She’s always beating up on the other kids. Its cute! It actually makes me smile because our kids are so much like us that all of us have been going down memory lane. Retelling the stories that we had when we were kids. The fights we got into. The memories we shared, especially of us in El Salvador.

I can truly sit here writing this, and tell you, that the last 2 years of my life have truly been the journey.

I feel the turning point for me is always when i met my father’s side of the family. I’ve gotten closer to my own family, closer to my dad and brother. I’ve made new friends and reconnected with old ones. I’ve rediscovered myself in ways that should’ve happened before i turned 21.

My life has not been perfect, i do not lead a perfect life, but the people in my life have made me believe i lead a perfect life.

Getting closer to my family is something i definitely have to give my boyfriend credit to. Yes, in the last 2 years i have found a boyfriend who i am completely and utterly in love with. Being with him puts some justifications in my life, because i see things now that i didn’t see before. I have been with him for over a year now, and they always say the first year is the hardest right? We have been up and down with each other, but even being down, i know we can always bring ourselves up again. He’s an amazing role model for my son. My son adores, respects, admires and loves him like he would his own father. And I have learned to accept another man in my life. I have learned the true meaning of love, the true meaning of being IN love.

Me & my son’s father? He isn’t even worth a paragraph in my life, but he’s there. On my own terms,i have always promised myself that i would make the effort to allow my son to have a father figure in his life. I am fortunate enough that he currently has two male figures who both love him. But my son’s father is not my first choice. It goes back to what i said earlier, about me wishing that i had my son with the knowledge that i have now. Had i known his father was going to turn out to be nothing of importance in anyone’s life including his own, than i wouldn’t of wasted my time. But just like everyone else he’s ever encountered, he manipulated me into believing he was better than all the rest. Do i love him? Do i ever think about me and him being together again? Does that possibly exist? Did i ever really love him? The answer to all of the above is not a positive answer. After being with my boyfriend now, after having had dated a little bit after my break up, i cannot sit here and tell you i was ever in love. There is no way in hell, what i felt, what we had, was love. Maybe my son will read this one day and be mad at me for never having loved his father, for not giving his father any form of respect or compassion, but truthfully? At 4 years old, my son knows and understand why me and his father don’t get along. We put up no form of a front, we say the few words we need to and move on with our day.

Let the record be stated, i have no regrets in life, my only regret is not being true to myself and losing out on some of the best friends i could’ve ever had. My only regret was living with a man THAT disgusting and especially for introducing him to my friends and family.and for those that he hurt, i apologize for not knowing better. For those he screwed over, I’m sorry i didn’t stop it and encouraged it. I really am!

I am so embarrassed by his actions that i refuse to acknowledge his name. I want to tell you all something you didn’t know about Harts Ortiz, and maybe its not a big deal for you but it is for me. MY son is not named after him. HE named himself that shortly after MY son was born. He always told people it was the other way around, but those that know me, know i would have never agreed to my son being named after anyone. Just in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t carry the name Harts for him, i do it for my son because i have never been prouder of him. And i just want the world to know that Harts Ortiz, even with his name and the origin of it, is a liar. Test my theory, ask him yourself. Ask him what his name was before Harts, i have 2 names that i remember, and no deadbeat or assface is not one of those.

But God doesn’t give you something you can’t handle right? He put that man in my life so i know how to appreciate and love in the future. I know that i want my son to be nothing like him, therefore making my job extra hard to act like mom and dad, but for my son? Its worth it. I know what i want in my man, and my man now, is more than i could have ever asked for. I never knew love felt this way. I hope that when I’m reading this again in 20 years, he would be by my side laughing with me and holding me in that way he does that hypnotizes me against the world. I learned the true value of having friends and family. I never realized how alone i was before. How me against the world i was. I was 22, why did I think the world was against me? Everything happens for a reason, one day we all find out what it was for.

5 years ago i was pregnant and i am just now starting to unravel the map called my life. Everything is slowly but surely falling into place, and i pray that i continue to find the meaning. I understand now that my bitterness was a way to keep myself closed off. I was on a relationship when i was 17 years old. I knew nothing about life about love. He never allowed me the chance to grow into my own woman, and now that i am, I’m loving and appreciating life more.

Until Next Time,

Hopefully not too soon but not to far away


The Perfect Man

Many women wonder when the perfect guy is going to come to them. They wonder why it seems that all their friends have found happiness and they’re the only ones left to seek their Prince Charming.
But what does the “perfect man” consist of??
Us women, are complicated individuals. We can never make up our minds about anything. What I say today about my idea of the perfect may not be what I mean tomorrow, or the day after, or in a week, not even a month from now.



My Perfect Man

  • He must be taller than me in heels
  • He must have at least one child (so he understands me when I can’t “hang out” because it is my weekend with my son)
  • He must have a good job, that gives him no more than 40 hours because I want some “us” time
  • He must be latino
  • He must be OLDER than me (by more than a month)
  • He must have the perfect skin tone
  • He must treat me like I am HIS queen, so that I can treat him like he is MY king
  • He must get along with his family (not a momma’s boy, but a man who can call his mom just to say hi)
  • He must be a good sexual partner (after at least a month of dating exclusively)
  • If he is NOT believe in a religion, than respect my views of religion
  • Must respect my political views
  • Even though he will probably never meet my son until we are well into the relationship, he has to get along with kids. I will most likely take him to a place where I know kids will be, to see how he acts around them.
  • He cannot be cheap. Not saying I’m a gold digger, I don’t mind the occasional dates to McDonald’s or the Halal guy right outside, but going out every once in a while is always good.
  • He has to like cuddling and staying indoors and watching movies
  • He cannot get jealous if I’m going out with my girls (even though a little jealously is cute)
Ok, so you get the point. This is just MY list. Every woman’s list is much different, but that doesn’t mean to say we don’t know what we want. Just because we know what we want doesn’t mean that we’ll get it though. I can search high and low and I will never find a man who has all these qualities. But that’s not to say that there isn’t a man out there that doesn’t deserve my heart.
I must be the luckiest girl on the planet because I have been fortunately enough to find my “perfect man”
While he may not contain the qualities I want from my “typical” man, he is the one that has stolen my heart.


The Man For Me

  • He tells me he loves me every chance he gets
  • He loves to cuddle
  • He’ll watch whatever chick flick I want to watch, with occasionally watching his shows as well
  • He doesn’t chose sports over me
  • He kisses me every time, without me asking
  • He’ll call me when we’re not together, just to tell me he misses me
  • Whenever I’m happy, he’s happy
  • Whenever I’m sad he’s trying his best to make me happy
  • My family loves him
  • He understands why I go to church
  • He needs me just as much as I need him
  • He is extremely cute
  • He’s latino
  • He has an awesome personality
  • When we go on dates, everyone stares at him, but I know that at the end of the day, he’s coming home with me
  • He doesn’t have wandering eyes
  • I can hold any type of conversation with him
  • I treat him like he is my king and he treats me like I am his queen
  • He has the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen
  • I know that one day he’ll be taller than me
  • He calls me mommy/mami
I have been enjoying my single life, and while sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be happy again, I look at my life, and all those in it, and I realize that YES I WILL BE HAPPY. No one guy can define my happiness just because I want a guy. But the only man who matters has been in my life for over 3 years. He will worry about me just as much as I worry about him. And I know that he’ll never cheat on me, or deceive me, or leave me for another woman (at least until he finds out that girls make him ‘happy’) my baby boy will ALWAYS be my baby boy. Whether is he 3 or 13 or 30, he will always be the man who changed my life, he will always be the one that stole my heart, he will always be mine.

Until Next Time


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Note To Self

So excited!

Just got my results in from my GED and I passed!

I had no doubt about myself, but it is still pretty exciting to know that I did it. I am THAT much closer to my wonderful future!

:: Looking in a mirror ::

“Good job self. Things are looking up.”

Until Next Time


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A Mom is a Mom Until, She’s Not

Is it bad that I crack up when people say, they are embarrassed by there moms?

On this particular day, I was doing grocery shopping and I was texting my mom asking if she needed anything. (My mom has actually been in the mobile world for awhile so that’s not a surprise to anyone.) We have regular conversations via texts, but this day, for some reason, I could not understand a word she was saying. She was using text abbreviations and writing ways how they sounded and not actually spelt. I was so annoyed that I finally just gave up and called her. After we got off the phone I reread her texts, and it all made sense. And I realized that the reason I didn’t understand her was because I’m not used to speaking to my MOM like this. I’m used to texting my friends but not my mom!

I guess I’m not the only one that feels that their moms should not be texting/speaking in a certain way.

My friend just posted on her bbm status “My mom just said tipsy -__-”

My other friend posted on Facebook “Whoever taught my mom to text should get shot”

On twitter someone posted, “My mom actually knew the words to this song.”

There was even a trending topic on twitter labeled #ifmymomhadtwitter –basically saying that moms shouldn’t be allowed to have a twitter account.

It is soo hard to imagine our moms as human! We go all of our lives looking up to them, and expecting them to know the answer to everything, that we seem to forget that, before they had us, they were people to.

I’m sure my mom hated her parents, disrespected them, and even more was embarrassed by them as well.

It cracks me up even more so because now I’m a mom. How long is it going to be before my son starts becoming embarrassed of me?

Is he going to be embarrassed by the way I talk, dress, look? Is he going to think “you’re not mom enough” is he going to wanna trade me for a better “mom”?”

Oh man, I remember all these thoughts, and even now, when my mom is way older than me and I’m way older than a teenager, she still manages to embarrass me, but that’s because I forget that she’s human too. She’s allowed to have a life outside of motherhood.

So I’ve shown you my examples of my mom embarrassing me, now I MUST know how your mom has embarrassed you,..

♥Signed by my cell phone. Great minds are created everywhere.♡

Family Portrait

“Momma please stop cryin, I can’t stand the sound
Your pain is painful and its tearin’ me down
I hear glasses breakin as I sit up in my bed
I told dad you didn’t mean those nasty things you

A song I grew up loving. I felt some sort of connection. I always pictured this is how life was before my dad left my family. Of course I was too young to realize it. Little did I know that this song would be about me one day and that my son would be dedicating the song to me. Well not so much in those words, but just keep reading and you’ll see.

“You fight about money, bout me and my brother
And this I come home to, this is my shelter
It ain’t easy growin up in World War III
Never knowin what love could be, you’ll see
I don’t want love to destroy me like it has done
my family ”

It seems that whatever “perfect image” me and my husband have portrayed to the world, is finally coming down to bite us in the butt. Lately it seems that we fight about everything, everyone, and every aspect inbetween it all. I’m too bitchy for his taste, he’s too careless for mine. Its the same argument day in and day out. The glue holding us together?? Our son.

“Can we work it out? Can we be a family?
I promise I’ll be better, Mommy I’ll do anything
Can we work it out? Can we be a family?
I promise I’ll be better, Daddy please don’t
leave “

We try, on a daily basis to work it out. To talk, to figure this out. But everyday with the same arguments, the same resolutions come. We would “try” to work it out. Come tomorrow, our “trying” went right out the window and we would “try” again. Just to repeat the same pattern over and over again.

“Daddy please stop yellin, I can’t stand the sound
Make mama stop cryin, cuz I need you around
My mama she loves you, no matter what she says
its true
I know that she hurts you, but remember I love
you, too “

My husband and I have always been a good team. We always “worked thing out.” We always communicated. We never went to sleep angry. Everything was as perfect as you can expect us to be. Of course we always had our issues, but we always managed. This last time just seemed to be the icing on the cake. I fucked up bad! And it seems like there is no room for repairment. But we’re “trying.”

I went karaoke for my cousin’s birthday, and we sang “Family Portrait” and I teared a little, because I was picturing my son singing this song to me the way I often sang it to my father. I could never forgive myself for my son seeing us always fighting. We need to figure something out before it’s too late.

“I ran away today, ran from the noise, ran away Don’t wanna go back to that place, but don’t have
no choice, no way
It ain’t easy growin up in World War III
Never knowin what love could be, well I’ve seen
I don’t want love to destroy me like it did my family”

I remember when I ran away from home. I was 15 years old, and I hated the world. It was me against the world. My mother favored my sister, my aunt favored her daughter, my grandparents favored my cousin, I was the “bad-ass” of the family. Anything wrong was my fault. And I think to myself, what am I going to do when my son runs away? I often put blame on the fact that my father was never around to love me. It was his fault that I was the odd man out. So I think, if I don’t reconcile with my husband, is my son going to hate me for breaking up our small family? Especially since the start of the constant bickering,……was my fault?

“Can we work it out? Can we be a family?
I promise I’ll be better, Mommy I’ll do anything
Can we work it out? Can we be a family?
I promise I’ll be better, Daddy please don’t leave”

When I looked at my parent’s separation filing and there final divorce papers, it was shortly after my birth, so of course I always felt that it was my fault. It was my fault because I was a girl not the boy that he always longed for. They didn’t want me. They were 20 with 1 child and another on the way, any man would run from there. I can’t allow my son to think he’s the reason we’re not working anything out. I’m the one to blame. Me and my husband have our issues, not to be included with that of our son. We both love him unconditionally, but having experienced this song personally, really hits home when I think of the numerous problems me and my husband have.

“In our family portrait, we look pretty happy
Let’s play pretend, let’s act like it comes
I don’t wanna have to split the holidays
I don’t want two addresses
I don’t want a step-brother anyways
And I don’t want my mom to have to change her
last name

My husband joked that it would be awesome for our son to experience 2 everythings, especially since me and him only had one of everything, since we were both raised by single mothers. But there’s so much to factor. How selfish would it be if we didn’t even TRY to work it out and have our son battle it out between two different households, not including time with the 2 sets of grandparents.

In our family portrait we look pretty happy
We look pretty normal, let’s go back to that
In our family portrait we look pretty happy
Let’s play pretend, act like it goes naturally”

All 3 of us, pose for cameras and act “perfect” but we’re far from it. The mutual love that we share for our son is never going to go away, but we can’t keep pretending that everything is ok.

I decided to write a blog that was a little different, a little more personal than I’m used to, because this “perfect image” that people have of us, is really cramming our style. When we tell mutual friends that we’re having problems they find it so unbelievable. After all, in the eyes of the public, we’re protrayed in one way. Behind closed doors, we’re battling to try and make this relationship work.

I always promised myself that I would not stay in a relationship just for the sake of the kids, I’ve watched enough TV and movies, to know that it doesn’t work. Most times kids use it against you either way and you end up failing because they use it as your weakness. And by all means, I’m not staying in here for my son, but he plays a small role in it.

I love my husband, and when I think of the days that we fell in love, the days in where we got along, and the battles that we have both dealt with in our personal lives (me with my father and him with his health conditions–to be discussed in a later blog) and the struggles we’ve had together (the fire) it all seems worth fighting for in the end. But for right now, like many relationships, we’re not perfect, just living each day one by one.

Until Next Time


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October 8th

This blog was first written on Sept 12, my husband’s first of many hospital visits lately.

October 8, 2008, if memory serves me right it was a Wednesday. That’s when I realized how much I truly hated hospitals.

Every night before I went to sleep, I would spend time with my husband and
son, who at the time was only 8 months old and very fascinated with the world. I would eat, shower go to sleep, and begin the cycle all over again.

Except this Tuesday night, I had been so tired that I didn’t take a shower before I went to sleep.

On this particular day, I had woken up early so I can take a shower. It was about 6:30am and my husband agreed to take my son to my grandparent’s house, where they watched him while I went to work, so I could take my time getting ready to go to work.

At about 7:10am, I got out of the shower, finished doing my hair, brushed my teeth and selected the clothes I would wear, I hear some maniac ringing my door bell, I rushed to put on pants and a shirt and ran downstairs to the door. I run to see my downstairs neighbor and 2 cops at the door. Apparently the cops rang both our doorbell because they didn’t know what floor my husband lived. They asked me if I was his wife, my initial response to cops, “depends on what this is in regards to.”

“Your husband was just in a car accident, he is perfectly conscience and on his way to Jamaica Hospital.”

Yup, those were his exact words. I’ll never forget them.

“Was anyone else with him? Or was it just him? Where was it?”

Of course that ran thru my head because he had JUST left the house with my son in his care.

“No one else was with him, he was by himself. This occured on Atlantic Ave and 76th street. Would you like to come with us to see your husband?”

What the fuck? That was 3 blocks from my house on his way to the train station. I guess it’s true when they say that accidents happen within 10 miles of your own home.

“Yes, let me go put on some shoes.”

I replay this day in my head so many times, that sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday. I had black slacks on, and a blue button down shirt. My hair was wet, which later dried and was curly. I was sitting in the back of the police car, and crying as I called my boss and told him I wasn’t coming to work. I called and called and called my mother with no luck. I called my aunt, with no luck! I finally texted them both “My husband has been hit by a car, rushing to the hospital now.” Then I received a call from my mother wanting to know how he was. I was calling to make sure my son was safe and sound with her. I called his mother with no luck! I called my husband’s boss to let him know he couldn’t come to work, under the circumstances.

And I finally get to the hospital.

“Uhmm excuse me, where’s my husband?”

The heavy set lady with an Ellen DeGeneres hair cut at the opposite side of the desk said, “He’s in trauma.”

WTF? Trauma? What was wrong with him? How bad was he? Was he ok?

These were all questions I was asking myself, but if I’ve learned anything, is that people in the hospital hate dramatic people and prefer to talk to level-headed people.

I go into trauma, look for my husband, and here he is, in a stretcher with a neck brace holding his back in place. Half his face was scraped, he was in a hospital gown with swollen arms and legs. For a person who was a pedestrian, he looked like he was just in a fight, not hit by a car. Thank God for that. I hear him saying something, this entire time not crying, “Where’s my wife? I want my wife!” And I cried. “I’m here babe, don’t worry. You were just hit by a car, you’ll be fine.” He finally saw me, and kissed me, “Babe? Where am I?” And I couldn’t stop crying. “Stop crying baby, I’m fine.” I finally did stop crying. I stayed by his side the entire time, and every 4 minutes, like clockwork,..”I want my wife. Where’s my wife?” I asked the nurse if that was normal that he didn’t know where he was or who I was. She told me that with the trauma he just experienced it would be likely that he would never remember who I was.

So I played along with it. Everytime he asked me where his wife was, I would tell him over and over, that I was right there next to him that I had just gotten there. Every time he asked me where he was and what happened, I told him over and over again, that he was hit by a car while he was crossing the street. It got to the point that I felt numb to the memory. And it’s only been a few hours.

I finally got in touch with my mother-in-law. And the first thing my husband said to me, “don’t let her know we got married. She’ll make sure I stay in the hospital permanently” (We “eloped” btw lol).

When he came home 2 days later, he was in such a daze, he didn’t remember where he was, where he had just been, what had happened. But at least, he knew who I was this time. He couldn’t have our son around because it hurt him so much. The noise my son would make, carrying my son, it hurt him so much. I decided to send my son to my mother’s so I could tend to my husband during this time.

This was by far, a Traumatic experience for me. Seeing my 6’4 foot husband become practically helpless. And living everyday with the reminder of his pain. Everyday a new pain comes about, a failure in his memory hits me and affects us deeply.

I had to rush my husband to the hospital, and it was the same experience. I felt like it was a deja vu moment for me. I was rushing into the emergency room looking for him, trying to figure out what room he was in. I spoke to the same heavy set nurse with blonde Ellen DeGeneres haircut. She told me he was in Trauma again. I walked into the trauma room and I felt like I was stepping foot into the past. The doctor was the same as it was that day, the set up was the same. I even told my husband where his bed was. He didn’t even remember being in this room. I tried my hardest not to cry, but feelings of almost losing my husband were more visible then ever. The security guards were the same, and even the same security guard came to tell me that I couldn’t sit on the bed. The only difference with this time, is that I got to take him home. Little did I know, that this deja vu moment, would not be the 1st time I would feel it, and I’m sure that it won’t be the last time either.

Until Next Time


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A Father is a Father When,….

Have u ever seen one of those guys in the street with a diaper bag on his shoulder, & a 4 year old kid that is crying, and here he is, trying to comfort the child by hugging and kissing him and telling him that everything is going to be ok??

These are the guys that went on Maury to prove that they are NOT the father

of this baby because there baby mom’s is a whore. And then at the end of the show, Mauryopens his envelope and says “John Doe, in the case of 3 year old Jane Doe, you ARE the father” and then this is the part where you enter the dramatic “Told you so”

How can I tell??

A real father, one that is around on a regular basis, would not be hugging and kissing his child. He would very nicely look at him ask him what’s wrong, the child would say he wants candy, daddy would say no, child would throw a tantrum, daddy gets back down and whispers something in child’s ear, child then starts whimpering and stomping but continues to walk holding daddy’s. What did daddy say? Daddy told him, “You better stop crying, or else you’ll see what happens when we get home.” Oh does this child KNOW what happens at home. Child’s father on the other hand, would nurture and give in and give child the candy? Why? Because father thinks that this one piece of candy will fix him not being around the past 3 years of it’s life. And children are so simple. This piece of candy did do just that. For the next 15 minutes at least.

A real father, goes to toy store randomly to pick something up for his kids becausethey deserve it. He knows WHAT they like, WHAT they want, and most of all, WHAT won’t annoy him when he wants a moment to kick back and watch 5 minutes of the game without being interrupted. A Child’s father, goes online and tries to buy these big, annoying, expensive gifts. But before doing so, they walk into the toy store, they look around so completely lost, the sales person working on commission sees this as a big deal and runs over, “hi sir, how can I help you?” “Uhmmm, I’m buying a toy for my son.” “oh well you’ve come to the right place, how old is your son.” “He’s (thinks) this big (gesturing hand to around hip).”
The sales person smiles, nods, and blinks dollar signs. And that’s how his kid, got a $500 hot wheel!

A real father, plans bbq and parties for any and all occasions. A good party is wherethe kids have there fun, and the adults aren’t annoyed by “daddy daddy look what I can do.” A child’s father, would arrive at a party late with a stuff teddy under his arm and expects the child to run to him and praise him for the little teddy bear!

A real father, appreciates sleep but even more, when his son wakes him up with cereal, bacon, eggs, pancakes, orange juice and coffee all put into one bowl. A real father appreciates the effort his son just put into trying to create a meal for him.  A child’s father, would treat his kid to McDonald’s and get him TWO toys instead of just one like all the average kids, and expect this to be the greatest relationship of all time.
And for all you single ladies, that think that a man with a child is

cute, look @ how he’s dressed. Is he looking so fine that you can’t turn him down, meanwhile his kid is right next to him eating a melted ice cream vanialla cone with sprinkles? Or look at how he treats him. Is it with love, compassion, and patience??? Then this is not the man for you. He’s not even there for his own son, he barely knows his son, there’s no way he can be there for you.

Now, if you see a sexy man, wearing jeans and a button down and he looks sexy as fuck, and there’s a 4 year old attached to his hip, and an ice cream stain on his shirt,with hand santizer on his key chain, looking annoyed at the fact that he even has to be there but is happy when his kid has made a new friend,…that is the man for you.

A real father puts his kids and their happiness above anyone, even their own happiness. A real father is a man that can step up to the plate at any given time, whether he’s happy about it or not, but if his son is happy,….that’s all that matters!!!

Until next time

For the record, this was not a personal attack towards my own father, but it is a perfect example!

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