Did I ever mention that they got re-married?

My parents, I mean. After, like, a decade of divorce.

Because they sprung that on me last year while I was in California, half-heartedly trying to convince my dad that he needed to sign a Deed of Transfer because his dementia was getting severe, and it was right before he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

The deed signing did not go well. Why would it go well? He is the military commander, I was the little soldier; why would the roles ever be reversed? I was trying to steal from him, his words.

He also said that my “bad friend” had corrupted me, “turned me American,” and he was not going to sign any paperwork because he was still alive. He also signed my health care directive to my aunt, because he doesn’t trust my mother or me.

So, you know, in case you were wondering how my relationship with my dad is, there you are.

Did I tell you that technically that either parent didn’t tell me they were getting married until I had to drive them there? Up until that point, they both told me they had …