In about 15 minutes (?):  touchdown in LA.  So close to home.  We're empty-handed....  We couldn't even bring home the Report of Death from the Embassy, because we didn't have original or true certified copies of our birth certificates, to show evidence of our relationship to Dad.  This week has been a long one, and a nightmare.

My parents are both gone now, but I haven't been able to totally mourn, or even register this in many ways, because I've been so stressed out about our situation.  In fact, everyday since the funeral (which feels so unreal), all that anyone's talked to Vicky and me about is the fucked up situation: What a maldita/ salbahe/ tarantado M is.  Nothing about our father, except to say he was crazy for trusting that devil-whore.

I've woken up between 3-5 am everyday, mind just racing:  What's that bitch up to?  How do we protect ourselves and our father?  How do we stop her greedy ass from further damaging our family?  For the past days, I've woken up with so much outrage....

But here's the deal:  Now we're on a mission.  I know my anger is a righteous one, and that what M has done is an injustice-- not just to Vix and me, but to my Dad.  So, I'm determined.  And I will be unrelenting.  I will do everything in my capacity to make sure that this woman cannot do this to another man, and that no other veteran's family will ever have to watch some gold-digger do this to their loved one.

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