A little over a year ago, I had a very bad fight with my father. It was quite serious, as I had never disrespected him in my life and I had always kept my opinions silent. Thats what happens when a military man with PTSD raises two little girls on his own; children get treated like soldiers, and are raised to follow authority. Punishments weren't pleasant.
    

This argument started over a bad situation. My dad went to jail one night for assaulting and choking my stepmother. He had never been to jail before; he ran from the cops. He spent exactly one night in lockup and was bailed out the next day by his family. He denied, and still denies to this day, that he ever touched Shannon and that she lied because she wanted to ruin his life. She got a restraining order immediately after the assault, and had to emergency move herself and her two kids from our home.
    

My opinion on the event was that he had in fact tried to hurt Shannon. Given the way he treated my sister and I growing up and knowing he had a bad temper, there was not a doubt in my mind that he was capable of something like that. Don't get me wrong, I saw it from both sides. I knew there was a chance that it was a lie, because I was not there and the police could not come up with solid evidence. Yet with the facts of his history and his drinking, I believed Shannon's side of the story.
    

After Tom got out of jail, he did not contact me and I did not contact him. My sister, Ally, had a completely different opinion than me. She believed our father; she wanted to support him. And that is okay, I never would judge someone for their opinion; especially Ally's. She made it known to Tom that I believed Shannon, so he disowned me. I chose not to think about it. Anyways, I went to our house and helped Shannon and my step siblings move their stuff to an apartment. It was a very awkward and difficult time. Some of her family came to help, and they all treated me coldly. I was, after all, Tom's daughter. Family represents family. It did not matter to them that I was only there to help and show support. I gave no mind though; I wanted to help Shannon and I know she appreciated me and loved me. I was very close to her. She was in my life for a little less than four years, and my stepmother for only three; a short time, but long enough to create a relationship. And it was all s*** on.
    

One day, four months after Tom got out of jail, he called Ally to tell her he was not going to be seeing her for a long time. He said it was 'too hard' and he needed a break; even though he had seen her only a handful of times. She was crying and begging him not to say that, and I snapped. I broke our angry silence and took the phone from my sister. I said some very disrespectful things. I told him to man up, that his daughter needed him, that he was being a pussy and running away from his responsibilities. Tom got very furious; He told me that he was a man. I responded, very calmly, "A man wouldn't try to kill his wife.". That was the straw that broke the camels back. He said some very mean things, called me horrible names, told me I was never going to see my twin sister again. Shortly after that, he came and picked Ally up. He refused to come inside or see me. That was the last time I saw my sister for three months. I did not talk to Tom for an entire year.
    

At this point in life, I don't dwell, regret or grieve the lost relationship. It hurt but I was strong, and I refused to let myself drown in the after affects of my decisions. Tom and I have recently started talking again because of some family stuff regarding Ally, but our conversations are quick, to the point and emotionless. We have not talked about the events of last year and I am fine with that. Neither of us are ready and I'm not sure if we ever will be, but things change. Obviously.