The road to Freedom part 6 of 6. 

If you haven’t already, read parts one, two, three, four and five of this series. 

My lawyer called me with good news finally. My Aunts had decided to renounce their roles as executors of my mom’s estate. I sincerely couldn’t believe it. I wanted to jump up and click my heels in celebration. This meant two less assholes I had to deal with. It also meant a lot more, which I’ll get to in a bit. 
How it was going to work was, my lawyer was going to write up the agreement that would state that my aunts were going to resign. Then it would request me and my brother would become co-executors….but there was one more thing. My lawyer was going to also add in a stipulation that no one could stand in place of me or my brother. This meant Satan could shove her power of attorney form for my brother, up her ass. It is completely useless here. 
It was now the late may. My lawyer wrote up the agreement and I went down to his office to sign it. After that we waited weeks. I started to get nervous that they weren’t going to sign. Finally I found out that my couldn’t seem to get in contact with their lawyer. He wasn’t returning calls. After several times of me asking for updates, and so I wondered if that was just my lawyer making excuses or if that was really the case. I know this sounds crazy but, I was going to try to call their lawyers office and see if I could get him on the phone. I wasn’t going to talk to him . I searched his name on google so I could get his number. As I’m looking I see this PDF in my search results, with his name on it. I opened it up and found the biggest surprise I can imagine. Apparently their lawyer and some of his buddies of his decided it would be a good idea to come up with a fake medical marijuana company and sell fake stocks to people! All in all they made over $8 million dollars! I shit you not. This guy is in some pretty deep shit and owes the Feds over $4million, so he may be a bit of trouble. A few days later I decided to drive by his office and I had realized that his law practice was no longer in business. Upon further investigating, I found that he was working for some other law firm. 
Later that week my lawyer finally spoke to him and he promised to have the signed contracts over to him by the end of the week and by the end of the week he had finally sent it over. I hadn’t heard from my attorney and I started to wonder if everything was going ok. Our court dates were nearing and so last week reached out to my attorney to find out what was going on. Apparently their asshole lawyer, convinced my lawyer that it was ok to submit copies to the surrogates court. That’s not the case. The court wants original signatures and so that’s what we are waiting on today. 
As I have written this last series of posts, I look back and realize how differently I feel today as opposed to just 7 months ago. Going no contact with the people who’ve I depended on for my whole entire life hasn’t been easy. At the same time, I have realized how strong I am. I have made it through the hardest thing in my life, with basically no support except for my cousin Nikki, who has become an amazing friend and source of strength for me. Even though their paperwork hasn’t been fully accepted and admitted to the courts, I find myself feeling this calming sense of relief, just knowing it’s in the works. A HUGE weight has been lifted off my shoulders. For the past seven months I haven’t really been able to deal with my grief how can I with all this bullshit going on in my life? 
I know my mom would be terribly upset with the way things have turned out. I promised her on her last night here in earth that I’d fix things. I know one of her biggest worries was me being alone and having no one support me. On the other side, I think if my mom could see things from where she is, she would not only understand my choices but she’d support them. I hope she knows I’m ok. That I am going to survive and that going no contact with almost half of my family, was the best decision I’ve ever made. 
When you step outside of a situation you gain a better perspective. I have built my own, new little support system. I see a grief counselor and only surround myself with those who will listen and validate me. Through those channels, I have realized that the way my “family” operates isn’t healthy. In fact it’s very toxic. Normal families are not up in one another’s business like this. In real life I refuse to dignify my aunts and uncle with those titles anymore. My “aunts”, especially my aunt Debbie, display some serious characteristics of someone with a personality disorder. She is a stalker and continued to stalk not only me but the many other people she has harshly and cruelly x’d out of her life. I cannot associate myself with someone like that. 
I’d like to end this post off by talking about how I have evolved over the last seven months. I was so angry for so long. I mean I have carried anger towards my aunts and parts of my family now for over a decade. This goes all the way back to when Aunt Bea’s son molested my other cousin. I realize now that my Aunt Debbie and Aunt Bea played the biggest roles in that situation and I blame them for the way everything turned out. My Aunt Debbie had always disliked the victim’s mother and so she used her daughters molestation as a way to fuel her hate campaign against her. That’s what aunt Debbie does. When she doesn’t like someone, she can’t just quietly dislike them by herself. She needs to build up an army to go against them. She brainwashes everyone around her. That’s exactly what she did to the victim’s mother and it’s exactly what she was trying to do to me, however it backfired in her face, this time.
Anyway, i veered off there but I was so angry with them for soooo long and I was anxiously waiting for the day that I could expose them for the hideous creatures they are. I had so many plans in mind like, writing them nasty letters or making a video about all the crazy shit they did, and posting it on Facebook. I felt like I needed to publicly expose them for the frauds they are, but as time went on, I realized that I didn’t need to do any of that. Their own actions and words to other people made them look more like assholes than my words ever could. 
I have lost the desire to “get back at them”. Ultimately I realized they aren’t worth my time. You cannot make deaf people listen. Telling someone off and letting them know exactly what you think about them, involves a small amount of care. You have to care what those people think. I don’t give a rats ass anymore. I don’t care enough about them to let them know what I think. They thrive on drama and attention and I’m not giving them either. That is part of why I created this blog. It gives me an outlet to vent and get out my feelings about them without them even knowing. It’s all anonymous and there’s a better chance of being struck by lightening than there is a narcissist trying to understand themselves and other human beings. This type of blog simply wouldn’t captivate their attention. 

The road to freedom part 5 of 6

If you haven’t already, read parts one, two, three & four of this series. 

It had been over six months since I had spoken to my aunts or my brother and his wife, whom I affectionately refer to as Satan. (I hope you see the sarcasm there). 

I had ignored every attempt of theirs to try and get to me to, “come out of my face”, as my cousin Nikki would say. That’s what they were expecting from me because in the past year of my life, that’s how I reacted to the stupid bullshit from them. Little did they know though, I had taken on a new way of dealing with them and that was to go completely “no contact” and ignore them, but for the month and a half following my mom’s car being repossessed by the bank, the letters and the constant harassment of my Aunt Dana, I decided it was time to make a move. 
As I mentioned a few posts back, I objected to my aunts being the executors of my mom’s will. The purpose of me doing that was to rattle their cages. The ultimate goal was to make things difficult enough that my aunts would just give up. Two months had passed since my objection was filed, and it was nearing the time of our first court date where all the involved parties were being deposed. I started to get nervous because my aunts were being very stubborn and seemed to have all intentions of fighting me, and carrying out their executive duties. I had ignored all the attempts to get me to back down, but since they decided to continuously harass my Aunt Dana with this stupid bullshit, I finally cracked. Trying to make my life miserable was one thing, but bullying her with this bullshit, it was completely fucked up. 
I called my lawyer and asked if I could write to them. He told me yes, so long as I didn’t say or do anything illegal or threatening. I had no plan doing anything if the sorts and so I sat down and opened the notes app on my phone. It took me a bit, but I sat down and tried to write them a letter. I didn’t want the letter to sound confrontational in the least bit, but I wanted them to know I meant business, and that I wasn’t about to suck it up, back down or give in to their shit. Also, if they were going to dance with the devil (my brother’s wife) and my brother, then they should know who they’re dancing with,  and how they’ve been lying, not only to me, but most likely to them and everyone else. I was sick of all the shit being talked about me and the lies they were spreading and so I finally decided to set the record straight. Just as my brother did, I sent it to the entire family only I used the CC option, because I wanted him to know that everyone was going to know what a liar he was, and so this is what I wrote. (In my original letter I  included evidence in the form of texts and screen shots which aren’t shown here) 

Debbie and Bea
I am writing this letter because I would like to clear up a few things that I have been hearing and seeing in the past few weeks. I also want to explain to you why I am objecting to my mom’s will and what I am trying to accomplish. 
As far as my objection goes, as you can see in the court documents, my objection basically says that there is a conflict of interest as far as your representation goes. [my brother] used [his lawyer] when he improperly filed for Letters of Administration. You guys
are also using him to file your petitions, and that’s a conflict of interest. None of this was ever discussed with me who by all intents and purposes, shares a 50% interest in the estate. I filed my mom’s will, based on two facts, one being because that is the PROPER thing to do when someone dies, testate. She had a will and [my brother] knew this prior to filing his affidavit that claimed he did diligent search for a will and determined none existed. As you can see from the court documents he was lying. Secondly, I filed the will because I wanted a document in the courts that stated that my mom’s wishes were to divide up her assets 50/50 between her two children. Who the executors were was completely irrelevant at that point in time. My mom and dad paid [family lawyer] to draft their wills for a reason, to protect me and my brother and their assets. Why would we want to pretend there was no will? 

My personal objection to you two being executors, which doesn’t matter as much in legal sense, is that I tried to reach out to you a total of five times after I filed the will and neither of you responded. I haven’t spoken to either of you in a total of 6 months. Clearly you have continued communication with my brother. You are all using the same lawyer and he and his family are invited over for holidays, friends on Facebook, etc. with that said, I am supposed to think my opinion will matter when it comes to making decisions for the estate, when no one will speak to me, no matter how cordially I approach you? I’m sorry, but I am not taking that chance. Those are my mother’s things too. It’s
bad enough her car was already repossessed after I was being told ALL of the bills were being paid. (See attached email from my brother). I have done extensive reading and research and have a full understanding of the estate process. Also, my lawyer has about 30+ years experience in these types of matters, and he has thoroughly explained to me the my options and the possible consequences and outcomes, again in which I fully understand. I may be wrong but it’s my personal belief that neither of you have even personally dealt with [their lawyer] and instead you are communicating with him by proxy. Had you been in contact with him then you’d probably know all of what I’m about to say. 
I don’t know who informed you that I was looking to hire a public administrator but that is not what I am hoping for. What I am hoping for is to make things fair for BOTH people who have a shared interest in the estate, me and [my brother] 

. I am not looking for anything more than my 50% share and to have some say in what happens to her belongings and property. That 50% gives me every right to know what’s going on. My lawyer has already explained this to [their lawyer] in phone calls, over the last two Fridays. Contrary to what you believe, the ball is entirely in your court at this point in time. It seems your lawyer hasn’t fully explained your options. If you both truly are concerned with my mother’s hard earned money and property, as you allege to be, and you don’t want to see her assets being squandered and wasted on lawyers, you both can very easily assure that doesn’t happen. You do have the option to resign as executors and that would help expedite the process, assuring no more assets are wasted. In that event, my attorney and [my brother’s] attorney would then amicably agree, and request that the courts appoint me and [my brother] as co-executors. If you want to do something that “really matters” for my mom, that would be your best option. [my brother] and I are grown adults. In 1996 when my mom and dad wrote their wills there was no way they could foresee the breakdown and deterioration of our relationships. If you’d like to hear what my mom’s real and more current last wishes were, you are more than welcome to contact the lawyer who came up to the hospital. He is granted to work pro-bono with cancer patients at [hospital’s name] hospital, his name is [hospital lawyer’s] and he can be reached at [phone number and name of law firm]. Her wishes as of November 10th, 2016 were to make [my brother] and I, co-executors, unfortunately she died before that could happen. Since me and [my brother] are grown adults and neither of you have any interest in her estate, and do not plan on being compensated for your service, then there should be no reason as to why you wouldn’t step aside and let him and I handle it. If you choose to pursue your roles as executors then it will be dragged out until next November, and there is no doubt about it. In an email sent to me a few weeks ago, [my brother] seemed very confident that I was going to lose my objection. Just know, if I was going to lose my objection and I had no chance, the judge easily could’ve denied my objection right then and there and appointed you as executors. If we don’t hear back from you in a timely manner then we are going to make a motion to have a temporary public administrator appointed so that the bills that have been piling up for the last four months, can finally be paid. He or she will be compensated for their service at a rate of 1-3% of the entire value of my mom’s estate. The decision is up to you. Just know that should you chose to fight my objection it is going to be very costly for all the involved parties. 

Thank you,

[me] 


Ps. As far as the bills go, they have NOT been being paid by my brother, that is yet another lie. After the car was repossessed, I started to look into everything. I cannot see the bills because the billing addresses have been changed. My mom’s car address has been being sent to [their lawyer’s address] . The rest are
going to [my brother’s address] I was unaware of this until recently. Had I been able to see the statements, I would’ve made sure my mom’s car didn’t get repossessed. Since [their lawyer] was receiving the bills, he can be held liable. I do plan on checking with the Bar Association if that’s even ok for him to do. I spent three days making phone calls and requesting statements. As far as I can see the only bills that he had paid was possibly 2 months of the homeowners insurance. I paid the past due balance that was due in March 20th and the rest of the balance for the year so the house in insured until next March. The only other bill that was paid was the electric. No other bills have been paid. If [my brother] has been paying bills, why is every single bill in default? You can see the attached statements.”



My brother told my aunts that he and Satan had already laid out $12,000 and that’s why they could no longer keep up with the bills. I would love to see an accounting for that amount of money because they sure didn’t lay it out to pay bills of any sort for my mom’s estate. They are full of shit. I’m sure they paid some retainer fees for their attorney, as did I, but if they’re more than $3000, they got majorly ripped off! Anyway, that’s not my problem. I didn’t tell them to lie and say my mom didn’t have a will. They damn well knew she did and my brother told my husband he was going to file for letters of admin, whether I agreed to it or not. He can go fuck himself, if he thinks he will be getting any of that back! I am so utterly disappointed in the person my brother has become. The old him would NEVER do ANY of this. 
After that letter was sent it was like dead silence. They all fell off the grid. Aunt Dana’s phone stopped ringing and there was nothing but crickets for miles. At the very least, I shut them up. A few days later, on a Friday afternoon, I got a phone call from my lawyer. He had spoken to their lawyer and was told that they were going to write up an agreement that my aunts were going to renounce their roles as executors. I won…

The road to freedom part 4 of 6

If you didn’t read parts 1,2 & 3 I would suggest doing so before reading here, here and here



My brother and Aunts were doing everything in their power to try to get me to drop my objection to my aunts being the executors of my mom’s will. Clearly they were worried about something.
It was only three days after I got my brother’s letter that I received a text from my mom’s neighbor telling me that there was a flatbed truck in my mom’s driveway, and her car was being repossessed. For whatever reason, I didn’t see the text right away, and by time I did the car was long gone. The neighbor however, was kind and thoughtful enough to ask the driver if she can get the personal belongings from the inside of the car and he allowed her to do so. 
As anyone can imagine, I was confused. Back in early December my brother sent me a letter where he stated that he would be paying all the bills until an estate account was established. He specifically named the “car note” amongst others things, and said he was paying them.  That’s when a lightbulb went off and I went back to his most recent letter where he wrote that the car was going to be repossessed. I raised an eyebrow to that when I had originally read the letter. How is the car getting repossessed if he was paying it and also, how did he even know the car was about to get repossessed? Also why was there a $600 balance with the oil company when he said he was paying for the oil? 
This all raised a lot more questions and so I decided to seriously start looking into things. I started off with my mom’s car and called the loan company. I wanted to know where it was, if and how we can get it back, as well as when the last time a payment was made towards it. After giving my mom’s info,  the man answered my question by telling me that I needed to speak to Satan, my brother’s wife, because she had all of the info, and he couldn’t tell me anything. I don’t know if I could adequately articulate how infuriating that was to hear. I started to get a little emotional on the phone and I asked the guy how she, who’s an in-law, was able to get the info, but me, her flesh and blood daughter, who owns half of the car, can’t get any info. He told me that she supplied some type of documentation, either a power of attorney or proof that she was the  executor. I started getting even more angry because if they received any such documents, they were false. I explained to him that there was no executors or anyone for the estate, and so no one should be able to talk to them. 
I was so angry when I hung up the phone that day. I tried to call back and speak to a different person…..four different people actually…….in four separate calls, and eventually I was able to find out that since my brother’s name is on the death certificate, they could speak with him, so she, Satan,  supplied her “power of attorney” over my brother. Quite honestly I was hoping they had forged documents. It would’ve put an end to them doing anymore shady shit. 
I was really frustrated at this point with the lack of answers I was getting, and then I suddenly realized that I could possibly view her bill online. My mom let me use her email and passwords sometimes for some subscriptions services she has and so I tried those on the loan company’s website. I gained access to her account, but since it was now in collections, none of the info was displayed. The only thing I was able view was her profile information and that’s when I noticed that someone had changed the billing address from my mom’s address to my brother’s and Aunts’ attorney’s  office. I couldn’t even believe it. Their lawyer was receiving her mail and illegally giving it to them to open. 
For months I also wondered where all of her mail was going. It was still coming to the house for a few weeks after she passed, but one day it just suddenly stopped. Technically no one should be allowed to forward the mail. I wondered if it was just in hold at the post office, but when I went to the post office, I hit another dead end where they couldn’t give me any info. I should’ve known better than to trust my brother’s word that he was taking care of everything, but since they were hiding the mail, I was unable to see anything. That same week I got a collection call from my mom’s oil company. The man that called was actually very nice and easy to talk to. He informed me that my brother gave him my number and told him I am taking care of all the bills!. It was just more manipulation, bullying and pressuring for me to drop my objection. I also got a call from another loan company looking for money. I now knew that I had to look into every account my brother said he was paying and sure enough, NONE were paid since the beginning of November and those payments were made by my mom, herself. As far as I was able to tell, he may have paid one month of homeowners insurance and gave the electric company (who is very lenient) $100 or so to keep the lights on. At the most, he laid out a couple of hundred dollars. More lies from him and Satan. 

I didn’t respond to either of the two letters I received. Since they couldn’t get a reaction out of me that way, they tried a different route. They tried manipulating my aunt Dana, my mom’s youngest sister,  instead because they knew her and I still had a good relationship. At that time my aunt Dana was dealing with enough of her own personal bullshit. She had a lot of really serious shit going on in her household. Worst of all was my uncle’s health issues. He had a stroke earlier in the year and he was having all sorts of other problems. He was getting a double hip replacement the day after Easter, but that didn’t stop aunt Debbie from calling my aunt Dana and arguing with her about me and all this other petty nonsense, like aunt Dana’s daughter, unfriending Aunt Bea, Aunt Debbie and a few others on Facebook. They were trying to use aunt Dana to manipulate and scare me, and so every time her and I spoke, I was hearing more and more bullshit.
Again, none of this shit was ANYONE else’s business. My Aunt Debbie was going crazy because she thought my mom’s personal belongings were still in the car. She was also freaking out because I had the keys to my mom’s car, at my house. I took the keys back when she first died because I figured if someone broke into the house, they could steal her car too. It’s called, protecting the assets. She was telling my aunt Dana that the car was getting auctioned off during the first week of April and that it was going to cost us tons of money for the lost keys and stuff. She also told my aunt that my mom’s house was going to go into foreclosure because of some (small) home equity loan she had out. I mean there was just so much bullshit going on, it wasn’t even funny. 

The biggest problem was that both my brother and my aunts completely underestimate me. They think I am just some dumb ass, stay at home mom who has no idea what goes on in the grown up world. They couldn’t be more wrong about me. I knew most of what they were saying was bullshit. First off I had all the personal stuff from my mom’s car and it was all useless crap. Second, there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop the car from being auctioned off. She thought it was going to cost us money. I knew my mom had very little left on her loan and if anything we’d break even. As for her house foreclosing, that wasn’t going to happen! My mom owned her home free and clear. She had paid off her mortgage after my dad passed in 2006. She took out a small home equity loan a few years ago to remodel her bathroom. It was less than $10,000 and she had paid at least half off. A small home equity loan wouldn’t cause her house to “foreclose”. A lien would be placed on the property until the loan was paid off. She also brought up the taxes. My mom had paid half her yearly taxes and we had three years before we got penalized. It was all bullshit and scare tactics in an attempt to manipulate me, once again into dropping my objection. 
A month or so had passed since my objection was filed and they were really starting to wear on my nerves. I have to say, I am pretty damn proud of myself for not reacting to their shit or adding anymore fuel to the fire. It was extremely hard for me to bite my tongue and not tell them what disgraceful assholes they really were. The old me definitely would’ve went ballistic and ripped them to shreds by now, but I have taken on a new approach to dealing with these toxic assholes. I am no longer going to be their supply. The best part in all of this was that I really didn’t have to say anything to anyone about them. They were doing a pretty good job at showing people how ugly they were, all on their own. 
One day my aunt Dana called me to tell me that my grandmothers bed was broken. Back when my died and we were at her house between the viewings for her wake, without thinking it would be a problem, I told her she could have my mother’s bed. I sincerely didn’t think my brother would want to sleep in her bed, and I wasn’t giving up my king sized mattress for a queen, and so I didn’t see the problem. After all, I can say with almost 100% certainty that my mom would want my grandmother to have it. A few days later my brother told me that I can’t just be “giving things away.”. He also told my husband that “everything has a price tag” including the bed. He is a sick fuck. 

Then after my brother lied and tried to bypass my mom’s will by improperly filing for letters of administration, he wrote me a letter and acted as if it was his idea to give my grandmother the bed. Again, sick fuck. 

My aunt Dana asked me if I could write a letter giving permission for my grandmother to take the bed, and she told me she was going to ask my brother to do the same. I hung up with her and wrote her a letter, but I tried to make it sound as “lawyer like” as I could. I would agree to the bed being given away so long as my brother agreed too, and I would need his consent before fully agreeing. I didn’t want him to try to find any loops holes where he could later claim I stole the bed and owe him money or something…..although how much do used beds go for these days? Well surprise, surprise, my brother didn’t respond to my aunt. It took him a few days and when he finally did talk to her he told her that since I was holding everything up in court, he wasn’t going to give his permission to let my grandmother take the bed. Another manipulative move to try and use my grandmother to guilt me into dropping my objection. What kind of asshole punishes their grandmother like that? Well, I guess the same asshole who threatens their mother that she won’t see her grandchild unless she kisses his crazy wife’s ass. 
At this point in time I have to admit. They all started to get to me. They were non-stop harassing my aunt Dana, and I think that’s what was pissing me off more than anything. Aunt Dana was trying to care for her ailing husband amongst other very serious issues, and they had absolutely no respect for her. They just kept at it. Calling her up, talking shit about me, fighting with her and arguing with her. I know EXACTLY what it’s like because they did the same thing to me to me when I was trying to care for my dying mother. I wanted and needed to put a stop to it. 
Please see part 5 for the rest of the story. 

The road to Freedom part 3 of 6

If you didn’t read Part one and Part two of this series, I would suggest you do before reading this one. If you didn’t, I’ll catch you up. My brother had finally found out that I was objecting to my aunts being appointed as executors of my mom’s estate and he sent me (and other family members) a manipulative letter to try and scare, guilt and bully me into dropping my objection. I will discuss that further in my next post. 
A day or so after I got my brother’s letter, I also received a letter from my Aunt Bea. Of all people I don’t know why she or any of them thought she was going to be the “voice of reason” to me, because it’s no secret that she isn’t my favorite family member. It’s so ridiculous that it’s almost not worth sharing here, but since I shared my brother’s letter, I should share hers too because it is another load of useless horse shit and it shows how manipulative these people are. I’ve explained this before, but my aunt Bea is sort of an invalid. She’s not the brightest bulb in the box. She sort of lives in a bubble of her own creation. She lives in a world where everything is perfect, and people are dancing on rainbows and riding unicorns. She does not live in reality like the rest of us. She would never be able to handle independently managing her own life, let alone trying to settle an estate. She’s one of those women who relies way too heavily on her husband. He does just about everything to for. I will never forget a few years ago having a conversation with her about this store that’s in the next county over from us and she told me she’d have to wait for my uncle to bring her there because she has never driven on the main highway where we live. We live on a small island and that highway is the pretty much the main artery to get where you’re going. I couldn’t believe she has never driven on it by herself in the 35+ years she’s lived here. With that said, I wasn’t expecting her to be doing much as the executor of my mom’s will and so she wrote me this letter, which was a really (really, really, really) dumbed down version of my brother’s letter. 

“[my name] 

I’m writing you to assure you that everything is going to be alright.

I understand that you have suddenly objected to Aunt Debbie and I being the executors of your Mom’s will. When you submitted the will you showed confidence that our intentions were to carry out her will and wishes. You were right. We loved your Mom. There isn’t anything we wouldn’t have done for her when she was here. She loved you both and it was her will to have US handle her estate. This is our last chance to do something that really matters for her.

Your Mom worked so hard for what she had in life. She didn’t want to give up work….even at the very end! She amazed the hell out of me! She never took the easy way out. She would want to see you bothenjoy that hard earned money. I don’t think she would be too keen on unnecessarily hiring someone to carry out her wishes. Just know too that the people you are looking to hire don’t have any love invested and the end result wouldn’t change.


Trust in the loyalty we have to our family. Both Aunt Debbie and I would never treat you unfairly…nor do we have the power to. We will always be connected whether we want to be or not. Just remember we all have one thing in common. We Love your Mom very much and we are ALL broken hearted that she has left us. 

Aunt Bea”



There is so much to say about this short letter. First off, I love how she thinks I’m actually going to feel “assured” solely by her words. I hadn’t talked to her or any of them in over 5 months, at this point in time. I had reached out quite a few times, but they ignored me each time. Suddenly when I got you buy the balls, you want to talk? Also, I don’t know how me entering my mom’s will “showed confidence” in her and my Aunt Debbie. I entered the will, ummmmm, because that’s what you do when someone dies and they have a will! I also entered the will because it was a legal document that stated my brother and I were to split everything 50/50. Who the executors were, was completely irrelevant at that point in time. 

Trust in the loyalty we have to our family.”

Of the whole letter this part probably irks me the most “You were right. We loved your Mom. There isn’t anything we wouldn’t have done for her when she was here. She loved you both and it was her will to have US handle her estate. This is our last chance to do something that really matters for her.”. They “loved her so much” and there “wasn’t anything they wouldn’t have done for her while she was here”???? Is she kidding? They didn’t do shit for her! She’d do anything, except try to help me talk to her about depression, except spending more time with her, except trying to get through to her, except SHOWING HER SOME GOD DAMN LOVE AND SUPPORT, but yeah….nothing you wouldn’t do. The most infuriating of all is the last sentence there. “This is our last chance to do something that really matters for her.“. They had plenty of chances to do something that mattered for her while she was here but they did NOTHING. She is gone now and so nothing they do will matter to her anymore. Fuck her. Why does she deserve a chance? Why is that MY problem. 
I’ll skip the whole paragraph about her hard earned money, but I’ll say this…her hard earned money is none of her’s or anyone else’s fucking business. Period.
I guess my Aunt Bea thinks that just because she’s saying something, it makes it true. How can I trust in the “loyalty” in our family when loyalty doesn’t exist in it? She wouldn’t know what loyalty was if it kicked her in the vagina. She states they’d never treat me unfairly…..I guess ignoring my attempts to reach out amicably is “fair”? I guess using the same lawyer as my brother without consulting with me is “fair”? I guess having my brother over for holidays and not me is “fair”? I guess blocking me on Facebook and all other social media platforms is also “fair”? I mean is she fucking kidding me with this bullshit about being fair? If they didn’t have the power to royally fuck me over, my lawyer wouldn’t have wasted his time writing an objection for me and entering it into court. The line about is being connected for ever is creepy and a very scary thought. So fucking manipulative. Notice that no where in there do they say they love me. She couldn’t even write “love, Aunt Bea” at the end. 
A year or so ago, my brother’s letter and her letter may have broken me, but I was determined to keep fighting for myself, and my mother’s memory. They weren’t going to push me around this time. 

After receiving these letters, shit really started to pop off and I will continue discussing it in my next post…

The road to freedom Part 2 of 6

Please see part one of this post before reading here. 
If you read my post about my confrontation with my brother and Satan, his wife, at my mom’s house, then you know what happened after my brother found out that I had filed the will. If you didn’t read it, you can read it here. (Trust me, it’s a worthy read). To summarize, I caught my brother and Satan removing items from my mom’s house after she died. At that point no one was appointed as executor and no one had authority to remove items and/or tell anyone they could remove items from her home. In fact, prior to this I was told by my brother that I wasn’t allowed to take anything from the house. That night, my brother accused me of forging the letter that was sent to me along with my mom and dad’s wills, by the lawyer who wrote them. All the letter said was that I had got in contact with him and requested the original copies of the wills. What good forging that would do……well your guess is as good as mine! Basically said, my brother was pissed that his attempt to gain control over my mom’s estate and make some extra money while he’s at it, was foiled.
When I filed the will in mid December I tried reaching out to one of the named executors, my Aunt Debbie. At that point, I didn’t even bother with my Aunt Bea, the other named executor. I know my aunt Bea, and this stuff is all way over her head. I knew her participation as executor was going to be extremely limited and my Aunt Debbie was going to do most, if not all of the work. I sent aunt Debbie an email and I text her. In all I tried to reach out peacefully and amicably, five separate times to try to talk things out and move past things, so we can carry out my mom’s wishes in the way she wanted us to…….in return I got nothing but crickets. She never responded. At this point in time I was starting to get a little nervous. My Aunt Debbie and Aunt B were essentially in control of my life at this point. They were in control of my memories. They were in control of the only thing that was left of my family and I started to get really nervous. 
After the incident at my mother’s house with my brother and his wife, and then me subsequently finding out that she ran right to my aunts and they comforted her, it was over. There were just too many red flags, and it was becoming clear to me that I wasn’t going to be treated fairly. My aunts wouldn’t speak to me no matter how amicably I tried to approach them. They were even using my brother’s lawyer to represent them. It was becoming very clear to me that I was the odd man out. It was clear at this point that my aunts were on my brother’s side and not mine. They can pretend all they want, but BOTH of my aunts know who was really there for my mom. They knew how much I did for her, and they knew my brother and his wife weren’t there. They knew how my mom felt about her. They knew what my mom’s wishes were. 
Their anger for me and hatred of the truth and reality, started to over power their love and respect for my mom, and that’s when I decided that I had to take action and put a stop to this crazy shit. I voiced my concerns to my lawyer and that was when he told me that I had a right to contest the will and object to my aunts being the executors. Will contests are very costly and I knew this prior to going into this. I was not looking to piss away my inheritance, but at the same time, I wasn’t going to take that chance that my memories would be stolen from me and so when my aunts finally decided to file their paperwork in march, my lawyer filed an objection for me. 
Most likely when push came to shove, I didn’t have much on my aunts except for their negligence to protect the assets, and the fact that they were telling my brother and Satan they can go on a shopping spree in my mother’s house. The problem here was that my aunts were CLEARLY showing favoritism to my brother and refusing to communicate with me. They were having him over for dinners and holidays. They were still friends with him and his wife on Facebook (me and my husband were both blocked), and what was probably the most unfair to me was they they were all using the same legal counsel. In fact, my brother paid the retainer for the lawyer so he can file their petitions to the court. I’m not sure how any of that would’ve fared in court. Technically we had no solid proof or evidence on any wrong doing on the part of my aunts, but since they were so closely tied with my brother, who was perjuring himself and doing all sorts of other crazy shit (which I will get to shortly) it wasn’t looking good for them. The goal of me filing the objection was to sort of ruffle their feathers and rattle their cages (god, if only they were in cages….my life would be a lot easier). All joking aside, we just wanted to throw up some type of road block to make their lives more difficult. I had no intention of bringing this to litigation. 
I filed my objection in early March, sometime during the first week. Things were pretty quiet after that, for a few weeks. Boy was I anxious as I awaited to hear something back. It was like the quiet before the storm. Finally on March 30th, my cousin Nikki called me… I answer the phone and she’s like, “holy shit! Did you read that email?”. “What email?” I asked, and she was like, “Holy shit, your brother sent an email to everyone in the family.”. Sure enough I open up my inbox and here is what I saw. 
[My name]
I’ve heard that you are in the process of objecting to the Will that

you and your attorney filed in Surrogates Court, which divides mom’s

estate 50/50. Your objection will not change the settlement of the

estate, it will waste away the money she worked so hard for.  

I was under the impression that since YOU filed the Will, which names Aunt Debbie and Aunt Bea as executrices, you would sign the Waiver and Consent as I did, and Letters Testamentary would be issued

shortly. Thus an estate account would start paying all of her expenses instead of me. Since you are dragging this out with the next court date is 11/13/2017 (see attached Pre-Trial Order), I will NOT be paying any more expenses. 

Specifically: 

  • I won’t be paying the oil bill. The account has a $600+balance and no more oil will be delivered and the heat will be turnedoff. The oil will not last till 11/13/2017. 
  •  I won’t be paying the electric bill. The electric will be disconnected.
  •  I won’t be paying the water bill.
  • I won’t be paying the homeowner’s insurance for the house. Once squatters or vandals are in house no damage they cause will be covered.
  • The car payment is several months past due. The car will be repossessed.
  • Due to the house being vacant, without utilities, and apparently abandoned, it will be susceptible to vandalism, squatters and/ortheft.

I understand that you’re concerned that you’re not going to be treated fairly in the settling of the Estate. I also understand that you’re concerned that mom’s wishes aren’t going to be carried out. 
Consider that: 

  •  A Public Administrator is answerable to Surrogate’s Court and has the same fiduciary responsibilities as executrices do. If you feel that you are being treated unfairly by either, your remedy is the same; you file a complaint with Surrogates Court and they compel the Administrator or executrix to comply with the Will.
  • A Public Administrator’s is not a free public service. It will cost over $18,000, while Aunt Debbie  and Aunt Bea would be free. (Not true they could’ve collected up to 3% of the entire value of the estate) 
  • The Public Administrator ALSO hires an attorney with additional legal fees in the neighborhood of $5,000. 
  • The Estate’s attorney’s fee will be nearly $15,000 to defendagainst these objections and I imagine your attorney’s fee will be similar 
  • The sum of these fees will be at least $50,000 if not more and in the end the estate will be divided 50/50 as mom wished.
  • If you continue with this and when you lose the case in November, the Estate will NOT pay your attorney’s fees.
  • The Estate’s attorney WILL be paid by the Estate to defend against your case. Half of the fee to defend against your objections will be paid by your inheritance.  All of the fee to prosecute your objections will also be paid by you.

If you truly are concerned that mom’s wishes be carried out and that the estate’s assets not be squandered, as your sworn affidavit states, then it would be in your best interest to drop these objections and let your aunts do what mom trusted them to do!”

I have NEVER read such a load of vile bullshit in my life. I love how he thinks I’m stupid and my lawyer did not explain the consequences to me. Before I even get into it, I should explain that this email was forwarded to several other family members, which is sick. What’s even more sick, is that he BCC’d them. For anyone who’s not familiar with email language, there’s “CC” and “BCC”. When you compose an email you can send it to more than one person using the “CC” (carbon copy) box. When the email is received on the other end, they will be able to see who else the email was sent to because the names will be displayed on the header of the email. When you use “BCC” (blind carbon copy) you can send the email to multiple people but the original recipient won’t be able to see who else received the email. I had no idea you could even do this until now. Just another shady move in Satan’s playbook. 

Obviously this was not not only in an attempt to manipulate me, but them as well. I do not know if my brother alone was capable of writing such a manipulative letter. He may have worded it, but I don’t know if he’s responsible for all of the content, because of how highly manipulative it is. Personally, I believe his lawyer is an idiot if he advised him to write this. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter who wrote it. What matters was what it’s intent was. He was trying to accomplish two things here. One was obviously trying to scare, guilt and bully me into dropping my objection. The other was trying to paint me as a difficult person who’s making things hard and wasting time and money. He also wanted to make it seem as if I were trying to fight him for his half of the money, however when he sent the letter, he also attached two court documents. One of those documents clearly states what my objection is about, and NO WHERE in there does it say or even imply that I’m contesting anything that’s stated in the will. I wasn’t contesting the will. I was contesting the appointment of my aunts as the executors, which I had every right to do. I also love how he’s so confident I was going to lose my case by saying, “When you lose your case in November….”
As far as all the bullet points he shared, in the last set, his mathematics and arithmetics were completely off, according to my lawyer. I don’t know who gave him those figures, but they were way off. What’s more important than those however, are the other set in the beginning of the letter where my brother lists off everything he won’t be paying anymore and what the consequences to that will be. I will get more into that in my next post. 

The road to freedom part 1 of 6

Well, well, well, it’s been quite a while since I updated this blog. I took a break from blogging because this whole story, this life; these people…..they were sucking the life out of me. Re-telling this entire story was a lot on me emotionally. Reliving the horror that was the last year and a half of my life, it was emotionally draining. I am not just mourning the loss of my mother. It is so much more than that. I am mourning the loss of life as I once knew it. I lost so much more than just my mom. I lost my family. I lost the support system that I counted on for 34 years. I lost them somewhat by choice but nevertheless it’s still a loss and a huge adjustment. Going no contact with the people you have depended on for your whole entire life is not for the faint of heart. 
 I began to feel paralyzed in life. Like I had no control over my future, my own feelings, my grief and most importantly, the memories of my family. I felt like I was being held hostage. My anger, my disappointment, with my family was eating me alive, day and night. I was ruminating and obsessing about how I was wronged and how angry I was at my aunts, my brother, his wife and my uncle Bob. How badly I wanted to retaliate. I was obsessed with revenge. I couldn’t wait for the day that I could finally put two middle fingers in the air and say FUCK YOU, to all of them and be on my merry way………
Well that day has finally come…..sort of…….
If you’re new here or found this blog via an interwebs search I will give you a brief summary of what has taken place as far as my mom’s estate, since she has passed. Let me preface this by saying, I knew absolutely NOTHING about the estate settling process prior to my mom’s death. All I knew was that people had wills and you needed lawyers. I didn’t have time to research it, nor did I want to research it, because prior to my mom’s death, my concern was her, being with her, caring for her, protecting her, and most importantly, spending as much time as I could with her, because I knew our time here was limited. 
With that said, I didn’t think the estate settlement process was all that complicated, especially given the case that my mom had a will that stated everything was to be divided up between my brother and myself, 50/50. By all intents and purposes it should be pretty cut and dry. Well, when there’s a narcissist in the mix, it throws a narcissistic monkey wrench in all of your plans. It was two days after we said our final goodbyes, to my mom, Black Friday to be exact, that my husband got a text from my brother that read, “I saw a lawyer today, either [me] can hand over the will that names my Aunt Bea and aunt Debbie as executrix or I will be going to court on Monday to file for administration.”. I had no idea wtf any of that meant, but thanks to Professor Google, I got a crash course in the basics of estate settlement and surrogates court procedures. That Saturday, my brother followed up with a phone call to my husband, trying to manipulate him into manipulating me, to go along with whatever he was going to do. Basically he tried to convince my husband that I’m some type of lazy, irresponsible, foot dragging, teenage like, type person who was going to slow down the process and prevent him and Satan from collecting the maximum possible inheritance that they can get. I’ll admit, my husband was almost fooled because my brother, he is an intelligent person, (in some regards) and he knows how to put together a very convincing argument. I was woken up by this, that morning and I was livid because I knew EXACTLY what my brother was doing. You see when you are an executor or administrator, you are privy to collecting a “fee” for your services. It can be anywhere up to 3% of the estate and in an estate my mom’s size, you are talking an extra $15,000 – 20,000. All I could hear was my mom in the back of my head saying, “I don’t want that bitch having any of my money.”. After all I had been through, after how horribly they treated my mom for the last three years, I wasn’t about to let that happen. They did absolutely NOTHING to help her while she was sick and suffering. They just wanted to be in control because for narcissists like Satan, being in control of everything around them, is the only thing they know how to do. 
My mom and dad paid a lawyer to draft wills for them for a reason. That will was in there to protect not only my mom’s assets, but to protect me and my brother. Why would we act as if there was no will? One of the selling points my brother made to my husband was that the administration process was going to be much quicker than probating the will. That was a complete and utter lie. In a true “intestate” (death without a will) situation, because there is no will in place, and therefore no named heirs, the court needs to locate the heirs. They must do so by seeking out ALL next of kin after someone has filed for letters of administration. They do so by notifying them that “person A” has filed for letters of administration (meaning they will take on the same role as an executor). The court must then wait for each and every next of kin to respond, this can include siblings, children and surviving parents, etc.  Each has the right to object to the person becoming the administrator. Basically put, it takes just as long if not longer than probate. 
I wasn’t about to agree to anything my brother said without first speaking to a lawyer, and so I reached out to a friend who happened to work for an estate attorney, and asked if I could make an appointment. Prior to this, I thought my brother had the original copy of my mom’s will and he thought I had it. That same Friday, I tried calling the lawyer who wrote my mom’s will but no one answered. I figured they were in vacation for the holiday and would be back sometime next week. That Monday, I met with the attorney and he informed me that usually people do not keep the original copies of their own wills. What I had that I had taken from my mom’s safe (with her ok and instructions to do so) was only a copy. My lawyer informed me that it was possible to probate a copy, but it would be a little more difficult. He told me to keep trying to track down the original copy and let him know in a week or two wether or not I was able to find it. I tried calling the lawyer once again that Monday, but the number to his office just kept ringing and ringing. I wasn’t even sure that the lawyer was still in practice and so I hit the internet to search for some more info about him. I found a website under someone who had the exact same name as him but it wasn’t for a lawyer, it was for some capital finance company and so took a chance and I sent an email to the link on the site. As I kept digging, I found a PDF flyer that this person who had the same name as him, was speaking at an alumni event at a local college. They had his cellphone number listed on the flyer and so I called that. I got a generic answering machine and left a message, hoping that it was him.  
A few days later, a woman called me back and told me that she was the secretary to the person who had the same name as the lawyer. I explained my situation to her and she told me that she had to check a security deposit box and would call me back in a few days. It took almost two weeks, and me calling her a few times until finally, I got a call back that she had found the will and she’d over night it to me. I got it two days later and brought it down to my lawyer as soon as I could. 
At that point we weren’t 100% sure if my brother had actually filed for administration or not, but it didn’t really matter. A will automatically trumps any administration attempts. Ironically the same day I dropped the will of with my lawyer, I pulled into my driveway and a minute or so later, a process server pulled up in front of my house and served me with a citation that my brother had indeed filed for letters of administration….just as he said he would. My lawyer told me that he has never, in his 40+ years of law, seen ANYONE file for letters of administration that quickly after someone died…..EVER. He told me that the paperwork alone took at least 2 weeks to prepare…
Just to put this into perspective here, 

  •  My mom died on Sunday Nov. 20th. 
  • I spent the entire day preparing for her wake on, Monday the 21st. 
  •  Tuesday the 22nd Wed the 23rd was her wake services. 
  • Thursday the 25th was thanksgiving 
  • Friday the 26th was the only open business day of that week and I assume most attorneys were off. 
  • Sat the 27th and Sunday the 28th don’t count 
  • Monday the 29th thru Wednesday, December 1st were the only legitimate business days because……
  •  By Thursday December 3rd, my brother filed his petition for Letters of Administration. 

That left only 4 business days to do a “diligent Search” for the will. A diligent search would include calling lawyers and looking at public records down at the surrogate court building, amongst other things. 

My brother had no idea I had found or filed the will, but when I informed my lawyer that we had a text from my brother not only acknowledging the will, but giving specifics about who was named as executors, he had to pick his jaw up off the floor. He explained to us that when you filed for LOA (letters of Administration), you sign an affidavit that states that you did a diligent search for a will and have determined to the best of your knowledge that no will existed. Not only did my brother know a will existed, he put it in writing and sent it to us. It was like a gift from god. It really was. He perjured himself in a court of law and could’ve faced criminal charges because of it. 
Prior to my brother finding out that I had entered the will, and during the time he thought his false attempt at gaining control was a sure bet, “he” sent me this letter (and by he I mean Satan), that stated that he was taking care of everything until an estate account was established. He even went on to list specifics such as paying her “car note” (🤢), her oil bill, her homeowners and car insurances, the electric, etc. He tried to sound all professional with his words like “car note” and by saying things like, she will be assigned an FEIN number “in Leiu of a social security number”. It was written in a way to make it sound like what he was doing was very complicated and over my head. He gave me these stupid, useless facts and worded them so they sounded important and like he was keeping me “up to par” and in the loop. (The surrogate court wants to see that you are being amicable and communicative while they are determining whether or not they will appoint you as administrator). It was all a bullshit formality. He made sure to mention that our emails exchanges from then on our needed to be kept professional because they were going to be on record with the courts. 
My brother and Satan’s biggest problem here is that they both have severely underestimated me and my intelligence. My brother is an intelligent dude. I will give him that. He is book smart. He’s a fact memorizer and test taker but he can NEVER rival me on book smarts…..
This is the end of part one. Please see part 2 

The First Christmas

The first Christmas after you lose a part of your family, is the hardest one. By the time Christmas rolled around I think I was still in a state of shock and possibly a little bit of denial that my mom was gone. I knew I just had to get through it for the sake of my son. This was the first year that he was really excited and understood what was going on. I didn’t want to ruin it for him. I know my mom would’ve told me to try my hardest to give him a good Christmas and so, for another few weeks, I put out of my mind what had happened.
Since my brother and Satan were in such a rush to get my mom’s money, I had a check in my hand exactly one week after she died. I remember opening the envelope and crying. When I finally went to the bank to cash it, I cried. When I went shopping for my son for Christmas, I looked in the back of my car at all the gifts and again, I cried. My mom spoiled the hell out of son, and so I went a little extra this past Christmas. I went onto her phone one day and looked in her amazon app and ordered all the things she had saved in her favorites that she was going to order for him and I told him that it was from her.
My mom always made Christmas so special for us. It would take us an entire weekend to get our house decorated. I remember we’d replace almost everything on any type of surface in my house with Christmas stuff. Half our attic was filled exclusively with Christmas stuff. My mom used to really enjoy it when we were kids. I then thought about the last few Christmas’s. The year 2013 was the first Christmas after my brother had met Satan. That Christmas took place only a few weeks after they had their first huge blowout. It was a sad year. It was also the first year in our entire lives that we didn’t spend all together. For 6 years prior to then, we spent our Christmases with my brother’s ex-fiance’s mom, Donna and her husband. We had a whole tradition going. We’d all go to my brother’s apartment in the morning for breakfast. There we’d exchange gifts. Donna would make us all laugh because she’s come with this huge bag for my brother’s ex, filled with random things she had been collecting over the year. Donna had a bit of a shopping addiction which also lead to a hoarding problem. It was a rip to watch them discuss each and every item and why she got it. To go from that to just me, my, mom, my husband and my son. It was sad. My mom hadn’t seen my brother the following two Christmas’s. Because those two assholes refused to make amends, her last Christmas ever, in 2015, she had to spend it separately. She came to my house Christmas Day and then saw them the day after, but her visit with them was cut short when I called her and told her she needed to go to the emergency room. 
Even though it was great seeing my son open all of his toys, it was bittersweet. Not calling my mom in the morning was odd. Knowing we wouldn’t be seeing her that day, felt really strange. It was surreal. My moms youngest sister Dana called me up a few weeks before Christmas and told me that she’d like to have us over. That was a big help and I’m so thankful she invited us. My Aunt Dana and I have a special bond. When everything went down in my family after Aunt Bea and Uncle Bob’s son molested my younger cousin, I felt like I was living in the twilight zone. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why my other aunts and uncles were so accepting and forgiving towards my cousin, when he had committed one of the most horrifying acts a person could commit, and nonetheless, to another family member. Aunt Dana was the ONLY person who seemed to agree with me that it was so fucked up. Her and I would spend hours on the phone talking about it. She was the only person in my family that understood how I felt. 
It wasn’t until my son’s birthday, which is New Year’s Eve, that my mom’s death really hit me. Not only did it hit me, but it hit me like a hurricane. For the weeks following my mom’s death I was in fight or flight mode still. I had suppressed my feelings. Grief is a really fucked up and complicated emotion. After you spend an entire year slowly watching someone die, it sounds terrible, but you almost have this strange sense of relief. I was not relieved that my mom was gone, not at all. I was relieved because I didn’t have to watch her suffering anymore. I’ve heard people say that it’s “easier” when you know that someone is going die before they actually do. I have to disagree. I think they’re equally as bad, but I have been through both and I can say knowing definitely does not make it easier because in the months, weeks and days until it happens, you are in a constant state of anxiousness. Your worry consumes you. You feel despair and helplessness as you slowly watch their health decline and their bodies give upon them. The torture of seeing someone you love like that is worse than any torture ISiS can conjure up. It’s not easy, either way you put it. 
As 2016 came to an endI had absolutely no desire to do anything. My husband and I both sat on our couch waiting for the ball to drop. We counted down, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and when the ball dropped, we both just kind of sat there and said a very unenthusiastic, yey. We looked at each other and I said, “fuck You 2016…..you were the worst year of my life.”
(The end of the back story)

Just like that, she was gone. Novemeber 20th 2016 the worst day of my life. 

The last few posts were very hard for me to write. Reading them back to myself, I can see how much I struggled. I am still grieving. As I wrote this it has barely been four months since my mom has passed. I am still in shock. I still won’t allow myself to fully go to that place where I get too deep because I am afraid of being so sad, and crying so much that I won’t be able to turn it off. From this point on in the story we are pretty much up to current times and everything I’ve been dealing with since her passing, and so once I fully catch up to present days I’m going to start talking about the grieving process and how I’m dealing with that. First though, I must finish the story and tell you all what happened in the days and weeks following her death and how crazy that all was for me. If you read any of this story, thank you. 

It was the morning of November the 20th, 2016 when my mom passed away, at 8:04 in the morning. I was the only one with her besides the nurses, who were complete strangers to me. They both looked at me and expressed their sorrow. I rubbed my mom’s arm and it was still warm. I stared to cry and said, “goodbye mama.”. The other nurse turned to me and said that they would give me a few minutes alone. For a second I panicked as if I were a little kid, that they are leaving me alone with her now lifeless body, but then I realized, this isn’t the scary part. The scary part was what I witnessed for the past month. It was just her body and her spirit had left it. It was still my mom. I thought to myself, she was finally at peace, with no more pain and I was ok. 
I got up out of the chair and paced around,  just looking at her. Her eyes were opened but looking down and I could see there was no life left in them. That is another image that is unfortunately burned into my brain. At the same time it was so scary, it was also peaceful. I found peace in knowing she didn’t have to suffer anymore and I didn’t have to watch her suffer anymore. I have never seen a person suffer in agony like that before and in so many ways. While what my dad went through was horrible, terrible, what I watched my mom go through over the course of that past year and especially in the month before she died, I cannot even find adequate words to describe it. Watching a person suffer like that will really make you question of there is a god because no human being should have to endure that much suffering. I have to believe that there’s a heaven and a place where we go on to bigger and better things because otherwise, it all seems to senseless.
I realized my family would be on their way shortly and so I decided to step out of the room to start making phone calls. I didn’t want everyone just showing up without knowing, and so the first person I called was my brother. He told me he and his wife were heading up to the hospital and would be there shortly. He also said he’d notify my aunt Debbie and Aunt Bea and I figured between them, they’d notify everyone else. I went to walk back to the room and the door was closed so I knocked. They told me to wait a moment and that they were just cleaning her up. In the meantime the on-call doctor came to talk to me. He apologized for the loss and had me sign some papers. He also asked me if I wanted an autopsy in which I declined. I’m actually sorry that I did. At times I question why things took such a drastic turn. Why my brother and his wife stayed away from the hospital for those few days before she died.

By the time I was done discussing things with him, the nurses were done. I walked into the room to see they had closed my moms eyes, neatened up the sheets and folded her arms over her chest, simarlarly to how they do it in the funeral home. They also gathered all of her belongings and put them in bags and piled the bags on the table and chairs. She had accumulated a lot of stuff in her months long stay. As I was in there I could almost here her telling me to grab her phone and her iPad before my brother and his wife got it. I knew my mom was like me and she never deleted her text messages. My brother would’ve been devastated had her read the text messages between me and her. I also knew she talked to a lot of people about what was going on and how much she hated his wife. I couldn’t do that to my mom. Even though she physically isn’t here, I felt like it was wrong. 
I walked downstairs to put them in my car and as I was on my way down my cousin Tina called me. Of all of my cousins her and I used to be the closest. Tina was Aunt Debbie’s daughter and she was an only child. I always felt bad that she didn’t have a sibling and so I sort of stepped into that role for her. We used to talk daily since the time she was a young teen.  After my mom she was probably the next person in my family that I communicated with most, but six months before my mom passed she kind of just cut off communication with me, without any explanations. There was nothing that I could think of off the top of my head that I did that would cause her to just drop me like that. In the same token I also didn’t bother to find out what was wrong. I was too busy caring for my mom. I eventually found out it was because of the letter I wrote to her mom. I was shocked. She is well aware of who her mother is and how she operates. I’ve never seen a mother and daughter at each other’s throats more than her and her mom. If my son ever spoke of me the way she spoke about her mom, I’d be really upset. Besides, I don’t think she was presented with my letter in its full context and so I almost can’t blame her for being angry. If you just read that last letter I wrote, it looks as if I’m just being a mean asshole.  That’s how my aunt operates. 
We stayed on the phone for a while. I hadn’t talked to her the whole time my mom was there except for a few texts in the very beginning, after I had accidentally called her one day. I told her all the crazy shit that was going on with my brother and his wife and how they were non-stop harassing her about seeing an eldercare lawyer and health proxies and her “wishes”. I hoped she’d share it with her mom so maybe she’d have an understanding of what was going on and why I’ve been so upset and angry. 
Eventually I saw my brother and Satan coming up to the hospital with their one and a half year old daughter. I figured I’d give them a few minutes alone with my mom, the. I told Tina I’d call her back. I walked into my mom’s room. My brother and Satan are sitting on the chairs and the baby is running around the room trying to lift up the blankets and stuff on my mom’s bed and Satan’s just sitting there talking and laughing as if she’s not sitting next to my mom’s deceased body. My brother just had this blank stare going on. I thought it was so strange and inappropriate that they even brought their baby. They always seem to find baby sitters when they want to go out to the bar but they can’t find one for now? Satan has a 14 year old daughter who could’ve looked after her. I told them I didn’t think there was any purpose for anyone in our family to come up. There was nothing for anyone to do. She was gone. The hospital was at least a half hour drive or more for the majority of my family. My brother agreed. He then turns to me and says, “oh yeah, by the way, we made an appointment at the funeral home for 3:00 today.” It was around 12:30. I had slept a total of just over 6 hours for the last three days. I hadn’t been sleeping well for long before then. I was dealing with insomnia for a long time. I explained that to him along with the fact I just wanted to go home and see my son and my husband and relax. I felt like I hadn’t seen them in a month. I was hardly ever home. I’d spend 8+ hours at the hospital each day. If I could, I’d bring my son up with me in the early afternoon and my husband would come pick him up around 3:30. Most nights, by time I got home they were both bed. I asked my brother why we couldn’t wait until the following day, like we did when my dad passed. My brother then said to me, probably one of the most fucked up things, he has said so far, “well I mean it’s thanksgiving is this Thursday.”. Was he fucking kidding? I’m sorry our mother’s death has inconvenienced your holiday. I said, “I don’t give a fuck about thanksgiving!” It’s so unimportant. My brother was always like that. He did what was convenient for him without taking anyone else into consideration. While he was at his house at a 50th Birthday party and sleeping in his nice comfy bed, I was sleeping on a shitty old piece of hospital equipment for the past two nights. If the roles were reversed I could guarantee he wouldn’t want to go that day either. 
When all was said and done he and Satan stood up and said they were leaving and they’d see me at 3:30. They just walked out. They didn’t even look at my mom, touch her, kiss her or say goodbye, while her body was still somewhat warm. They didn’t even look at her. I know she couldn’t hear them but it just showed me how emotionally unaffected then were by this. I never once saw my brother’s wife shed a tear. I saw my brother shed a few over the days prior but never when she was around. My girlfriend Kathy who was the nurse said that on that last night while I was at my house picking up my clothes and stuff, she walked in the room and was shocked to see my brother sitting there balling his eyes out, like to the point where he doing that weird breathing thing you do when you cry really hard. Of course Satan wasn’t there that night. It’s so sad that he cannot be vulnerable in front of her or show any weakness. I was happy to hear that had some human emotion left in him. Satan  on the other hand, didn’t seem the least bit upset about my mom’s departure. I know my husband cried. In our 9 years together it was the first time I ever saw him cry. 
They walked out of the room with the baby and their empty stroller and left me there to carry all of my mom’s belongings, all by myself. One of the male nurses there who I became friendly with, came in with a box of coffee for us that he paid for out of his own pocket. I felt bad telling him that no one else was coming. I have to say that the nursing staff at that hospital was phenomenal. I had become friendly with all of the nurses. I almost felt like they were my family for that month. They all treated my mom with kindness and compassion and most importantly, dignity. I felt like I was going to miss seeing them and talking to them everyday. Anyway, the male nurse who got me the coffee also went and got me an extra wide wheel chair to help he carry all the bags and belongings down to my car. It still took me two trips to get everything in my car. After the first trip I called Tina back and talked to her for about 15 minutes or so. When I came back in to get the bag I opened the door to my mom’s room and was startled to see a group of young medical students surrounding her bed. They all turned around kind of shocked to see me standing there and when they did I was able to see they had taped cotton over my mom’s eyes. The doctor, who I assume was their professor, started to apologize profusely about me having to see that. She then explained to me why they were doing that. My mom had obviously signed up to be an organ donor. Because they couldn’t use any of her organs or tissue because of the cancer, they were going to see if her eyes could be donated. The reason they needed to tape cotton to them was because so they could keep them moist. It didn’t bother me at all. In fact I was happy to see that they were going to try. I know that would’ve made her happy. 
I finally got back to my car and started to drive away from the place that had almost felt like home to me for those last few weeks. My 30 day parking pass expired that day and I had to pay for parking. It was bittersweet rolling out of there. I was happy to never have to go back but sad at the same time because I was leaving there alone. I had driven my mom home from there several times that year and now that was it. Never again would I drive her anywhere. It was a hard pill to swallow.
I got home and walked in my front door. My son came running up to me yelling, “mommy!”. My husband too. We all just say there and embraced one another and cried. We all sat down on the couch and I went over everything that had happened that day up until then. I told him I had to go to the funeral home and he agreed it was bullshit that they couldn’t wait. Neither of us could understand why they were so eager to get my mom’s wake over and done with and  on with their lives. 
As I was home I received a phone call from the place that handled donations of the eyes. The woman who answered was very pleasant to deal with. She needed some basic and background information about my mom. I ended up being on the phone with her that by time I got off, it was time for me and my husband to leave to go to the funeral home. 
We pulled up and of course my brother and Satan were already there sitting in the lobby. I needed my husband there too. Satan is very quiet when he’s around. I think she’s a little intimidated by him. It was so uncomfortable with her being there. It was like having a (demonic) stranger in the room sucking up all of the good oxygen. The funeral director was a woman, different than the woman who came up to the hospital. The first part of this meeting was completely redundant. It was exactly what we had accomplished in the hospital. She asked us basic info about my mom and once again my brother was looking at me for the answers. My husband and Satan were quietly sitting in two chairs off to the side. Then me moved on to how many days we wanted the service. At the same time I said, “one” and my brother said “two”. I wasn’t really sure why he wanted to do two, but I just went a long with it. I was much too tired and upset to argue. Then she showed us the book of Mass cards and we picked ones that had assorted pictures of flowers. My mom loved flowers. We decided to have a priest even though my mom wasn’t really all that religious. She still believed in god and I think she would’ve wanted him there for her family’s sake because a lot of my aunts and uncles are religious. 
After we wrapped up all of the details, it was time to talk money and how this was all going to be paid for, that’s when Satan jumped in. She had already apparently done her homework and knew that my mom had three life insurance policies and one of them lapsed. I was in complete shock. My husband and I looked at one another and without saying a word I know he was thinking exactly what I was thinking, “how the fuck does she even know about that shit?”. The funeral director said she’d look further into everything and see what was what.
As the funeral director was tallying the costs, my brother turns to me and says, “after here me and [satan] are heading over to [a local Irish pub]. We figured we would go there between the funeral services.”. I had went along with all their crazy bullshit up until this point but there was no way in hell I was agreeing with this. For the last two days Satan was going around telling my family members that we were going to go back to my mom’s house between the viewings. Whatever family member is was that told me that, thought it was incredibly ballsy for her to offer up my mom’s house. They also though it was a little strange. I also found it funny at she was able to lend her own home to a friend’s sister to have a 50th birthday party in, but she didn’t even offer it up for her husband’s family. Someone must of told them that was weird and so now they picked this Irish pub. I had to laugh when my brother said it, I replied to him by saying, ” [our mother’s Italian maiden name], we are Italian. There’s no way in hell we are going to [local Irish pub]. We will honor her by eating Italian food.”. I could see the smoke rising from Satan’s ears. I know she’s the one who picked that place. She is Irish through and through. St. Patrick’s day is her favorite holiday. I told him to go check out a local Italian restaurant to eat at. I wasn’t going to no pub so I could watch Satan get drunk. No thanks. 
After that it was time to go down to the show room of death, as I like to call it . . I was stunned the fist time I had been down there when we were making my dad’s funeral arrangements. It’s like a little store. The first room you walk into is all filled with urns and all these miscellaneous knick knacks and memorial items. You can really customize your wake. Then as you go through there, you enter a large showroom that’s filled with caskets that are all sitting there with their doors propped open. If there’s anything I learned from watching HBO’s six feet under, it’s that death is a business too, and this room confirmed it. 
We picked our casket and went back in the first room to look at urns since we were going to be cremating my mom. As I started to look around I noticed that not only did they have big urns, they had smaller ones too. There was one urn specifically that reminded me of something my Aunt Debbie would like. That’s when I got the idea. I again remembered my mom in her final days, that she just wanted her family and so I turned to my brother and said, we should get these for our aunt’s and uncle’s this way my mom could be with all of them. My brother agreed it was a good idea and the funeral director told us that during the wake she could pull down my mom’s siblings and our grandmother and they can pick the one’s they like. Since my mom told my aunt Debbie that she wanted her ashes mixed with my dad’s I decided to keep my dad’s urn and just add my mom’s ashes. My brother and Satan of course picked out the most expensive urn on the shelf for their house. God my mom would hate to be sitting on their mantle. 
Another thing that hit me as we were down in that room was that I didn’t remember discussing what two days exactly we would be having my mom’s wake and so I asked out loud. My brother answered, Tuesday and Wednesday. I looked at him like he had five heads. That left us with one day to find a place to go between viewings, get flowers and photos together, etc. etc. Again I had to open my mouth. I was concerned for some of my mom’s family who lived out of state, who may want to come to pay their respects. They’d need more than a day or two to make travel plans, especially given the fact that thanksgiving was that Thursday. I mentioned that to my brother and suggested waiting until the day after thanksgiving, to have the wake. Even though it would be hard, we could e at least have people the option to travel here.  His answer was that he already took Tuesday and Wednesday off from work. God forbid my mother’s death ruin his thanksgiving and his three day weekend. He’d rather waste his 2 days off from work so he could enjoy the rest of his week…..selfish fuck!
We walked out of the funeral home and Satan, still reeling about my “we are Italian” comment, ran straight to their car and didn’t say goodbye to either me or my husband. My brother stayed behind and talked with is for a few minutes. He started spewing plans of what we should do in the following days. The next day, he and Satan were going to order the flowers and go to the Italian restaurant. Then he started to go into this bullshit about just opening up my mom’s house and having an estate sale so we didn’t have to be bothered going through everything. I sat there and just looked at him dumbfounded and wondered, did he even know our mother? She actually used to go to estate sales all of the time because she would sell stuff on eBay. She always used to tell me how sad she thought it was that the family didn’t want to be bothered looking through the deceased’s stuff. She asked me never to do that if she died. I never would anyway. I know my mom was very sentimental, as am I. I want to touch and see everything she held. I want to find little treasures like a letter she wrote or card that she saved. My brother and Satan seemed like they wanted to be in control of everything……everything. 

(To be continued in the next post)

 

Novemeber 19th, 2016 11:30 pm and beyond…. The last talk. 

I was totally sure my brother would be gone by the time I came back. As mad as I had been with him, I still cared about him. I’ve made this analogy before, but seeing someone you love in a relationship with a narcissist, is like losing a family member to drugs. All you can do is sit back and watch them make horrible decision after horrible decision, and there  is absolutely nothing you can do about it. I know my brother, or rather, I “knew” my brother and what kind of person he was. If it was any other girlfriend, I don’t think my brother would’ve left the hospital at all that night. He was gone for four hours. He was well aware of what was going on with my mom and where she was headed. If I were in his shoes, seeing that he had missed the majority of the last three years with her, I would’ve wanted to stay there and soak up every minute of time with her. That goes to show how much control a narcissist has over their victims and how afraid their victims are to go against them. My brother had a choice that night. He could’ve told his wife to entertain her friends on her own and he could’ve chosen to stay at the hospital. I know my brother and I know that one day he is going to be very sorry about the choices he made during this time. I wonder if he spoke to my mom during that time. If he told her he was sorry or told her  he loved her. It makes me sad for him that one day he may see things clearly, but ultimately they are his choices and he is the one who will have to live with them and live with his regrets,….not me. 
My brother left only minutes after I got there and once again, I was alone with my mom during this scary time. There was one saving grace though and that was my nurse friend, Kathy. My mom had been up in that same unit for an entire month now and that whole time Kathy was never actually assigned to be her nurse. Out of the kindness of her heart she checked up on her for me whenever she was working her shift.  It just so ended up though that, that night, Kathy wasn’t even supposed to be there. She was covering for another nurse and she ended up miraculously being assigned to my mom’s room. If there was one thing to be happy about, that was it. I knew Kathy would take extra care of my mom and make sure she was  ok and as comfortable as she could be. 
I was in the room trying to set up the chair I was going to “sleep” in that night. Kathy came in to check up on us. We sat there for a few minutes both just stared at my mom.  We started to discuss how peaceful she looked. Kathy tried to arouse my mom by saying her name but my mom kind of grunted and went back to snoring. The other nurse came in and she and Kathy discussed cleaning my mom up and putting a clean night gown on her. She had been in the same one for several days at this point in time and there was stains and blood on it. Normally I would stay in the room when they cleaned her up but Kathy told me, it was probably best if I left this time. When people are in the condition my mom was in, it wasn’t a pleasant experience and could be quite distressing to the family. I was fine with that and so I took a walk down stairs to get some fresh air. 
When I got outside it had started to rain. I stood there close to the building and suddenly the rain started to really come down and the winds picked up. I saw a wheelchair flying across the street and it crashed into the curb. I remember thinking to myself, this is it. The storm was coming. It just seemed like something out of a Greek mythology tale. Like the sky’s we’re opening up to let my mom come in. The gods were coming to get her. Like the earth was angry for losing such a special person. I started thinking about the advice my cousin Nikki had told me and I knew that tonight was going to be the last chance I had and, so I k ew that this was the night for me to tell her all the things that we forget to say to one another on a day to day basis to the people we love.. Oddly enough though, kind of nervous and also I was scared. Scared that I would get too upset. Scared it was too late and she wouldn’t even hear me. Sacred I would freeze up and not know what to say. 
I went back upstairs and the nurses were finished up and just tidying up the room  I could tell at this point that she was awake. Her eyes were slightly opened. They left the room and it was just her and I,  alone. I closed the door and sat down. I sat there and stared at her for a few minutes. I looked at her arms and the bruises she had from being stuck with so many needles for blood tests and for dialysis. Those were the arms that held me as a baby. Those were the arms that hugged me and comforted me so many times. I wished I could freeze time. I wished I could keep her here forever. I wished she didn’t have to go through all the things she went through. I scanned her over and looked at her hands. I didn’t get many of my mom’s physical features. We could never share shoes because my feet are much larger than hers. We could never share clothes either,but the one thing we’d always swap was rings. Our fingers were the exact same sizes,  every one of them. I thought about my mom taking her rings off so she could roll the meatballs for her Sunday sauce. I realized I never learned how I never even learned how to make the meatballs and now it was too late. I just wanted to take everything in. Her face, her hair, her hands, just everything. 

As I was sitting there I suddenly remembered something. There was something I wanted her to have with her. I had gone to her house a few days prior to look for this necklace that she had, that she always wore. When my dad passed back in 2006, she had gone to a jeweler with an idea that she got from a friend. She took his wedding band and had them bend it into a heart shape. They added also added a bail to it so it would hang on the chain, flat. For some reason though, I couldn’t find it. I looked in all of her jewelry boxes and it was nowhere to be found. I found her wedding band but not my dad’s and so I grabbed that. Then I remembered she and I had purchased these necklaces after my dad passed. They  were crosses in which had a little screw at the bottom where you can put some of the ashes. I had been wearing mine for the whole time she was in the hospital. I took the necklace out of my pocket and quietly leaned over and said her name. Her eyes slightly opened up. I told her that I had something that I wanted her to hold close to her. I said to her, “this is the cross with daddy’s ashes, I know know much you have missed him for the last ten years and I want him to be close to you, so I’m going to wrap this around your hand and I want you to hold it.” I gently lifted her hand and wrapped it around and closed her hand on it. She was so weak she couldn’t even hold on to it. I then said, “go be with daddy. It’s ok, he is waiting for you.”. In the days prior my mom had been saying some strange stuff and she had mentioned my dad being there quite a few times. She also told someone she saw hands reaching out of her. That is actually a very common thing for people to do when they are dying. My dad did it too. 

After that, words just came naturally to me. I told her what a good mother she was and how lucky I was that god choose her to be my mother. I told her that if I could be even half as good a mother to mey son as she was to me and my brother, that I’d be ok. I told her how I admired her dedication and how she put her heart into everything she did in life from being an employee to being a wife and mother, and how I was lucky to have her as a role model. I told her how strong she was and how she never gave herself enough credit. My mom always compared herself to her sisters. She would always tell me, “I’m the fat, ugly sister.” I don’t know why she looked down on herself like that and so I reminded her that she always compared herself to them yet she didn’t realize that of all of them she was by far the most beautiful because she had the biggest heart, and like she always used to tell me, “beauty is only skin deep. It’s what’s on the inside that counts”. Beauty means nothing if you have a rotten personality and black heart. 
I was nervous for nothing. The words just came out. Naturally, and I told her everything I wanted to say to her. There was one thing that I know she needed to hear before she left this world and so I promised her that I would try my hardest to fix everything with my family but most importantly my brother.  I think my mom’s biggest fear in this world was leaving it knowing that me and my brother would still be separated and wouldn’t be there for one another. I wanted her to know I’d try. 
 As I was talking to her, her head was leaned away from me facing in the opposite direction. I walked around the bed, then I got real close to her, and I bent down so she could see me in her line of vision. I told her try to look at me. To really try to focus. I saw her eyes straining to move. I promised her I was going to be ok, but I was going to miss her terribly. That was when suddenly I heard a noise come from her mouth. I couldn’t make it out. Her voice was extremely raspy and low. I asked her to say it again and out came three short, one syllable words, “I luh you.”. I looked at her and asked, “did you say I love you?”. She nodded her head once and then she just kept saying it over and over until her voice was no longer able to come out and just her lips were moving. I saw a tear drop from her eye and I started to cry and I told her I loved her too, more than she could ever know. 
I love you wasn’t a phrase that was often said in our home. In the months prior there would be times I’d be with her and my brother would call and every time they hung up she’d say, “I love you.”. She didn’t say those words to me often and I don’t think it’s because she didn’t love me. I think it was just that we didn’t need to say that to one another all of the time. It was pretty obvious by the closeness of our relationship and how we talked to one another multiple times a day, everyday. The week prior to this day was really hard too. I felt like she was angry with me. She was snippy with me and had yelled at me a few times when I was trying to help her. I felt like she was annoyed by me being there and at times, maybe she didn’t want me there. I know now that is a common part of the process of dying. Anger and detachment. It’s something I guess we need to do to separate ourselves from the ones we love. I needed to hear those words at that time and I am so glad I did. It was a beautiful moment in such a horrible situation. I was happy about it but at the same time, completely devastated. I knew that it was the last time I’d ever hear those three words fromher mouth. 
I sat there for a few moments and I could actually see she was finally relaxed. I watched her as she drifted back off into sleep. It was an emotionally intense situation. I needed to get up and take a lap around the building. I walked out the room and ran into Kathy. She told me to come take a break with her as she ate her late night dinner. I sat down in the break room with her and two other nurses. They shared some crazy stories with me and it was nice to forget what I was going though for a minute. I don’t know how those work do what they do. How they leave this shit at the hospital and manage to go home and be wives and mother’s without letting all that sadness affect them. I have a whole new appreciation for nurses. I really admire them and the work they do. It takes a special kind of person to do what they do.

I went back into mom’s room and sat there for a bit. I had probably only slept a total of four hours in the last two nights. It was starting to catch up with me. Kathy came back in and we sat there and talked for a while. I am not going to lie. My mom looked scary. She had her head turned to the side, one eye was wide open while the other was half way shut. Ten years ago I never would’ve imagined myself being able to sit there alone with someone I loved in such horrible condition and looking so scary. It’s an image that I don’t want to remember, but any time I think back to her time at the hospital, that is all I see in my head. I hope in time that vision fades. I do not want to remember my mother like that. 
It was rounding 4:00am and I had set myself up as close to my mom as I could physically be. I wanted to be able to hold her hand and touch her. When my dad was in the hospital my mom slept in that chair every night and held his hand. My mom was the most fiercely loyal woman on theplanet. Her love was truly unconditional. I hated that she had to be in a hospital dying. I wished she could’ve had the privilege to be home on hospice as my dad was, but unfortunately it didn’t work out that way. My dad was in the hospital a week or so prior to his death. He made the decision to stop all treatment and go on hospice at home. He didn’t want to die in a hospital. My dad accepted his situation and in a strange way, his death gave me a whole new respect for him. He handled it all like a true man, like a father should. He sat all of us down one by one and talked to us about his decision. I will never forget that conversation. He told me he was going to stop treatment because he didn’t want to go through all the bullshit anymore. I told him, “dad although I don’t want to see you go, I understand. It’s YOUR life and I can see that you are tired of fighting.”. Back when my mom’s kidneys failed in the early 90’s, I remember being in the car with my dad one time on the way up to visit my mom in the hospital. My dad said to me, “if I ever get sick like your mother is, just kill me. I don’t ever want to be sick like that. I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I don’t know how she does it.”. I remembered him saying that and I told him, and my dad said one of the most meaningful things he had ever said to me, in my life. He said,” [my name] you are the only one who gets me.”. Those words meant a lot to me because I knew he wasn’t just talking about in this situation. He was talking in general terms. Of his four children, my brother, me and two half sisters from a previous marriage, he had very tense relationships with three. I think I was the only one who cut him some slack and understood the reasons as to why he was the way he was.

Anyway, I got off track there but my mom literally stuck right by his side as he was going through the transition of leaving this world and going to another. In the last few days of his life, either me or her were in the room. She hadn’t showered in days. She would only leave the room to get food or go to the bathroom. We were sitting there talking one day and my mom was saying how disgusting she felt and how badly she needed a nice hot shower. I told her to go and that my dad would be fine for a few minutes. We called my brother, who was living in the basement, to come upstairs and stay by his side. My mom turned on the water. At the time I was going through some old pictures of my dad so we could display him at his wake and I had all the albums and stuff laying on my mom’s bed. I left the room that he was in and went into their bedroom. The very second after I closed the door I heard my brother screaming, “he’s gone! He’s gone!”. It was the first time in three to four days that both me and my mom were both out of the room, at the same time. I truly believe he was waiting for a moment like that because he didn’t want us to see him take his last breath. I felt like my mom deserved the same thing. She deserved to leave this world with someone by her side, especially since she was so scared and not ready to die. She never made it to the acceptance stage. She didn’t have enough time. 
I don’t even remember falling asleep that night. The last thing I remember was saying goodnight to my mom and kissing her of the forehead, then laying down and watching a video on my phone. At about 7:30 am I woke up to the sounds of beeping machines and Kathy and another nurse, talking in a dull whisper. I popped my head up and asked what was going on. She told me my mom’s heart rate went up extremely high and she was trying to calm her down. I was trying so hard to stay awake, but it felt almost as if someone was pulling my eye lids down. The previous night when the nurses were in and out of the room I’d pop up and feel wide awake. The first thing I’d do is look at her chest to see if she was still breathing. This time I was fighting to keep my eyes opened and I don’t even remember falling back to sleep. 
At a few minutes after 8:00 I was awoken by someone saying,”sweetie…..sweetie, you need to wake up, this is it…your mom is going.”. I was a bit disoriented and so I looked up at the clock, and then right away realized where I was. My head shot over to the right of me to look at my mom’s chest, as I did all of those other times. I asked the nurse, “she’s not breathing?”. She said, “she just stopped “. As she was talking she grabbed my grabbed my mom’s wrist and held it, then said, “she still has a pulse.”. There was a long pause of silence, as I sat there staring at the nurse holding her wrist. It seemed like minutes, but was probably only a few short seconds. She then jerked back a bit, almost as if she was startled. She slowly put my mom’s arm down and said, “I have to call the doctor.”……..
….and just like that, at 8:04 in the morning on November 20th, 2016, my mom passed away…….

(To be continued in my next post)