Today would be my mothers 77th birthday. She was a wonderful mom, She was proud of her grandkids, she was proud of me and what I've done supporting my family all these years. When dad left, she became my biggest expounder. And as i see tons of people flock her facebook page, and my sisters, with well wishes, and "happy heavenly Birthday"s, I realize she, like many other humans on this planet; wasn't perfect. While she receives her praise even while in the great beyond, alot of things hit me. The first is, the family I felt were dear, do not give me the time of day. One of mom's gifts was the shit-talk. She talked down of me to EVERYONE. My siblings, my cousins, aunts, uncles, family friends, even a dear Nun who was a member of our family.
It wasn't shown to me by what they say, it's how they act. How i'm treated when i say hello, or ask how they're doing. Dismissive. Its been happening since my father past in 2020. His funeral and services were the biggest view of how she could be sweet to your face, but talk sour to everyone you know about you. I was the black sheep. I worked hard, raised children, busted my ass to get a house, ruined my credit providing; like dad did, and needed an occasional boost or loan. To my face, it was kind, it was offering and nothing but unconditional love- but she made it a point to complain to everyone to where I am the outcast in a small family. When i was pushed away and my sister was the only one there, i still came at the beck and call. When terrible, rotten things were said to me, or my spouse; i still came and helped when i was asked. Not with a gripe, not with a blow out- silent. Listening, understanding. When my wife pulled her aside and saw she was hurting and not healthy- she told her to keep it to herself, she didn't want anyone worrying. We sat and cried to ourselves. When my sisters boyfriend became the favorite, the man to help out- i didn't say anything. I bit my tongue, because to say something about it was petty. I turned the other cheek. When her health declined, and I was told my sister, who never moved out, who never had responsibility was the heath care proxy- It hurt. Someone with the attitude of sweeping things under the rug and ignoring them, instead of talking about it and getting this fixed was in charge of providing care to the only parental unit i had left- i kept my mouth shut. But it stung.
When I told them to speak up when she was being neglected at her recovery facility, that things weren't right- Swept under the rug again. When she died, it broke me in ways i'll never express. The weeks following were hostile- I could not step foot in the house, or my sister and her boyfriend would freak. Things I helped her find to make sure were taken care of or used for funding disappeared. Everything went to her, but under the illusion that it was 50/50. Money didn't matter, but since I was in my teens, dad had said the house goes to me, so it stays in the family and would always be home to us. Mom said the same. I Never saw the will , just empty promises of "oh, we'll do that together." after 3 months, and one day of being asked to take care of moms dog- they were on the table. What i saw shocked me. Both of us had power of medical proxy- and could supercede the other if to came to be the other was not doing what needed to be done. I could have saved my mother had i known i had the power to. I was not the executor, but the secondary.
The house i was not able to enter without permission, not able to take a band-aid without a stink, sat untouched, unmoved, not gone through. it has been 4 months and not even a consideration. Changing the names was easy- this was done ahead of time by mom before we knew how bad things were. So now i sit, hearing how my sister hasn't done anything in the house, to where even my fathers clothes and things still sit how they were 6 years ago, not knowing if the family valuables and heirlooms were either collecting dust, or greedily sold and spent while her spending continued as if mom still had a grasp on all the bills- where responsibility was a laugh and only a car payment away- now sits in ruin. DO i step in and take over, or do i let the family home sit and fester until the bank takes it because she doesn't know how to be an adult. In the end, i will be the bad guy for trying to right the ship. because i let my resentment fester and grow. Thank you mom, for giving me the last bit of knowledge that your favorite let everything crash and burn, while your son silently watch as the embers burned bright, knowing that if i had known what i knew now, youd' be here, on your 77th, hopefully healthy enough to blow out candles as we would then plan the future together. Happy birthday.
