Tuesday, September 4, 2018

The business of life..

Things are better, somewhat.  No rest for the weary.  A double sided business and busy teens who don't drive, don't leave much time for grieving.

Saturday, I was a basketball case.  I could think right, crying spells.  My eyes were so puffy they hurt and crusted with salt that night. 

On Sunday, I made myself not cry so I could rest my eyes.  I got to work - deadline on a quilt.

Monday, we went to my office and built shelves, rearranged the fabric and began cutting the cork fabric into manageable chunks.  Cork Fabric is HEAVY!!  Each color is 60 meter, so it took a lot of effort and we only made it through 3 out of 9 colors before calling it quits.  Needless to say, I was too exhausted to thing about it, BUT, when we got home I got a call from the funeral home.

Because she is being cremated and the next of kin are her children - all children must consent.  Fine for me and my sister, but my brother is in jail.  Brilliant.  So, my mother is hanging out in a refrigerator waiting to be cremated.  I just shake my head.

Now, my mother died Friday around 5 pm.  She lived in an assisted living building and had her own apartment and could leave when she wanted (she just had to tell them).  They did not find out right away - obviously, but they also did not inform anyone in the family.  The first we heard was my aunt being called from a funeral home asking if she wanted her sister embalmed. 

Sigh.  This is typical of what happened around my mother.

So, we all just found out on Saturday.  Sunday, she was transported to the next state, and a memorial service was held this morning BEFORE she is even cremated.  There was no way I could make it, but I doubt I would have gone anyway.  That whole side of the family is REALLY mad at me and I just did not want to deal with it.

When my sister told me all this, I asked who was doing flowers and she said they were just going to pick some up at the grocery store and arrange them that morning.  Oh.....My......Goodness......

Sigh,  No matter what she had done to me, she is my mother and she deserved to have a beautiful memorial service.  So, I bought the flowers for her service.

Picture of what I ordered - Large
Picture of what I ordered - small
What they got - large

What they got - small

Needless to say, I am disappointed.  They all said they were beautiful, but these are the worst arrangements I have ever seen and I am not at all happy with them.  And a mirrored vase for a funeral?  A simple white vase would have been fine.  We don't need disco mirrors at a funeral.  And what are those green things sticking out everywhere?   It is just awful!

What's done is done though.   If the ceremony could have been delayed a couple of days, I am sure it would have been better.  But my aunt is like that - whatever is best for her.  She has always been this way. 

Today, my sister asked if I want anything.  Last I knew, my sister was getting everything of my mother's, not that there was much to get.  I don't care.  I told her I just wanted a little something for a memory - did not matter what.  She knows how much I love furniture, so without my prompting, she said all the furniture was gone.  My heart dropped.  Most of the furniture she has was my Meme's and we (my siblings and I) were supposed to get those pieces.  My aunt has already gone through all my mother's things before my sister even had a chance.

That is how my aunt is. 

My Meme is my mother's aunt that really raised her and who I recognize as my grandmother, although she was a Great Aunt.  She died in 1994.  My mother asked me when Meme died what I wanted and I said the record player.  It is one of those piece of furniture turntables with the speakers and everything.  At that moment, my mother said yes.  Then, when we went to pick up everything, she turned to me and said, " You really didn't think you were going to get that record player did you?"  I was crushed.   Years later, she gave it me - after her dog had chewed through the speaker cloth and there was water damage to the wood.  I took it anyway.  Damaged or not, it was what my Meme and I did - dance and sing around this record player.  I have refinished it and the turntable still works!

Now, we were told that the pieces she had left - a coffee table, a dresser,  a couple of chairs, 2 end tables - would be ours to divide up.  All of it is gone.  There were boxes of pictures, all gone.  It even had our baby things in there - all gone. 

Funerals on that side of the family are awful - so much bitterness and talking behind backs loud enough that you hear the hatefulness being said, grabbing at the possessions that are left.  I am so done with it all.

It is so bad for me that our will even goes over all of this - how no one is enter our premises but the executor and things are to be sold and yada-yada.  It is spelled out specifically - all because of how this family is so freaking crazy!


Saturday, September 1, 2018

In times of death...

My mother died.

I have not spoken with her in about 4 years, though I knew about her health issues, when she made someone mad, when my brother stole from her, when she was good, when she was not, when she made a nurse upset and when she said something nice.  My sister still was involved and it was hard for her when I opted out, so I was her only support with a mother such as ours.

I honestly, did not think I would take it so hard.  This woman who beat me until I bled.  Gave me lifelong scars and disfunctional joints.  The woman who told me I was worthless and would never find someone to love me.  The woman who put extra chocolate in my hot chocolate when I could not taste it because I was also eating oreos.  The woman who would play Scrabble with me until 1:00 am and make me amazing costumes for Halloween.

I honestly thought I would feel relief.  Relief from her hot and cold, nice and screaming, never knowing what mood or if she would attack me or hug me.   From her pain, from the awful depression she felt.  From the man that would beat her until he came when she was only 12-13 (sick fucker!!).

But I don't.  I am so sad I cannot breath.  My husband hates her, he only saw the bad.  I remember times of fierce love and maybe a desperate longing for a real mother that could pay the electric bill and keep food in the house.


I go through moments of feeling ok with it and times that I just cry and cry.  If she were still alive, would I try to reconnect?  Not at all.  I just could not take the pain of her any more and I am truly at peace with that.

But a person died.  A person that carried me around on a pillow because I was so sick as a baby.  This person that gave me life.  So, although I decided that I could not circle in the same realm as her, she was still my mother.  Good or bad, she was my mother.  And she is now gone.  I honestly never knew how bad this would hurt - never.