Oh Vicki---so sorry, and you and your Dad are in my thoughts and prayers. May you both have peace.
eta:
I've had time to read (scan) over the thread a bit, and if the following comforts, take it for what it's worth, and if it doesn't, let it go; here goes:
My own daddy and I were very close, and I lost him to a sudden illness when I was 18, one month after my high school graduation. Needless to say I was devastated, not only at losing him, but at being left now without the "shield" of his love between me and my mother, with whom I had never been really close (and especially as I had not with Daddy). So many things she said and did made no sense---so many things were hurtful----so many built-up hurts drove knives into my heart until it seemed all scars and case-hardened against further hurt. I could list all the things she said and did, but it doesn't matter now. As she was in the final stages of the cancer that took her life (the year before my oldest son was born), some of the family and lifelong friends began opening up to me--and telling me things that I had never known. I had not realized the "past history" that had made my Mother what she was--and as I began to learn about it, understanding came down on me like an avalanche: "So THAT'S why she acted this way or that way!" I wish she had been able to TELL me these things herself---it would have made SUCH a HUGE difference in our relationship---I would have been able to be so much more patient with her outbursts of senseless anger or her inability to ever express pride in me or love for me---WHY didn't she TELL me? But then I realized that her outward "facade" was just that---a facade--and if she once lowered those walls to show her vulnerability she would have crumbled under the weight of her own past hurts like a brittle leaf. In a way, I admired her for it---I am a "heart on my sleeve" type of person, and if I had HAD to try to carry all the burdens, hurts, problems, broken dreams, etc. of MY life, and never told a soul, never breathed a word of it---well, I just couldn't have done it and carried on with everyday life and duties, as she did. So I had to admire her for the strength that she had to be able to carry her burden all alone---even while mourning the tragedy that she DID carry it all alone and so isolated herself from me and prevented me understanding the "triggers" that were making her act toward me the way she did---so that I didn't even really KNOW my mother until after she was gone.
One book, though, that HELPED me amazingly in dealing with my mother while she was alive was Joyce Landorf's Irregular People. The title is based on a line from the book and movie "Summer of My German Soldier", in which Patti, a girl in a small southern town has a terribly emotionally abusive father and a distant, detached mother---and she grows up wondering what is wrong with her and why her father cannot be pleased, cannot seem to accept her, cannot seem to love her. At the end of the movie, her father shreds her soul with the full force of his rejection of her and his hatred of her. She runs for comfort to the old negro cook of the family, who calms and comforts her, and then explains, "Honey, when I see something at the store marked 'irregular', I know I ain't gonna have to pay so much for it. Baby, you done got yourself some irregular folks, and there ain't nothing can be done about it. But you hold your head up high! You got person-pride from this moment on!"--and she goes on to tell Patti that she IS a valuable human being despite what her father says or thinks.
Joyce then goes on in the book talking about how many of us have in our lives our own "irregular" person--and how we can come to terms with that, learn to understand them, and learn to "let go" and be free to fully FORGIVE them. She shares many episodes with her own "irregular" person (whom she never identifies, but circumstantial evidence indicates it was her father). So many of these episodes were so like what I endured with my mother that I found this book to be totally comforting in finding someone who knew exactly what I was dealing with and didn't find it unbelievable that one's parents would say or do the kinds of things my mother had to me, and who shared practical ways of how to heal the emotional scars left by that, how to overcome the anger and hate, and how to finally let go and forgive. I'm still struggling with those last, but Vicki this book helped SO much.
So I recommend that to you, fwiw. I think you can still find it on Amazon, or maybe Abebooks--it's out of print now but you can find old copies still out there.