Finally….I got my papers 

I was going to post this on a Facebook group for those of us who are grieving our parents, but I decided to post it here instead since I can post it anonymously. Since I wanted to update this blog anyway with where things are at now, I figured I’d give you all a summary of what’s been going on in the last few months. I plan to update more regularly. Anyway here is where things currently stand. 

Finally, after 9 months of fighting, I am the executor on my mom’s estate….well co-executor. It’s a really long story, but I had to fight to get that title. It’s something I know my mom wanted me to have, but just didn’t have the time to give me. Her house sat there for 9 months and finally I can go in it and take what I want without feeling like I’m doing something wrong. Getting rid of her house is going to be so hard for me. It’s my childhood home. My parents moved in there April of 1981, almost exactly a month after I was born. For the first few months after she passed, it was still there and it gave me some kind of comfort and made me feel close to her. As time wore on and spiders and other bugs became the main occupants of the now vacant home, I started to dread going there to check on it. I am having a really hard time now with all of this. I feel like my grief was on hold for 9 months because to me going through her stuff and clearing out her house is a necessary part of the process. 

What makes things worse is that I have been estranged from my brother for 4 years. He married someone who I believe is a real deal, clinical, certified narcissistic psychopath. She completely destroyed our relationship. She hates me. She hates me because she knows I have her number. Not only did she destroy our relationship but she destroyed the one between him and my mom. They treated her like sh*t when she was well and it wasn’t until she was diagnosed with a rare form of aggressive cancer, that all of the sudden she wanted to act friendly with my mom. That was only so she can get into my mom’s personal financial business and estimate how much if her money her and my brother would be getting. They put me through complete hell while my mom was dying in the hospital that last month of life. They invaded her privacy in multiple occasions without her consent. They lied to her, manipulated her and made her feel bad about making me her healthcare proxy. They harassed her about getting her affairs in order even though they knew damn well they were in order. My mom didn’t want to talk about her cancer, let alone accept the fact that she was dying. They even went so far as planting a camera in her house and threatening to sue me when when I removed it! Those two a-holes left her high and dry when she came home from having an 8″ mass and her kidney removed. The night I brought her to the ER for the last time, they were in the city at a comedy show. Their lives went on as if nothing was going on. Mine didn’t. I suffered every second along side her the whole way through, to the very end. 
I had no choice really but to be co-executor with my brother. My mom’s will actually named two of her sisters who have also been charmed by the sociopath. There’s some history there too but I’ll spare you guys the details. I knew if my aunts were executors the sociopath would still be running the show and instead of dealing with 2 a-holes I’d be dealing with four! For years prior to my mom being sick she talked about making me the executor of her will. She did not want my brother’s wife involved in her affairs and she made it well known to EVERYONE she knew, and especially her two sisters! For years she thought my brother was the executor and she wanted to have that changed. To this day I do not know why she thought that. I was in shock the first time I saw her will and saw her sisters named. 
After my mom passed my brother tried to bypass her will and become administrator of her estate. I believe he had this plan in action well before she died and my aunts were in on it with him. He lied to an attorney, and perjured himself by signing documents saying that to his best knowledge, no will existed. My attorney told me in his 40+ years in law, he NEVER saw anyone file a petition for administration that fast after someone dies. My brother knew damn well that my mom had a will and I had the text messages to prove it. I had to hunt down the lawyer who wrote my mom’s will in 1996. I finally found him and filed her will putting my brother’s admin attempt to a grinding halt. I was ok with my aunts doing it until one day I caught my brother and his wife removing boxes of stuff from my mom’s house. His wife had the nerve to call the police on ME for being on MY property, while she was tresspassing! They told the cop that my aunts told them they could take what they wanted! My aunts hadn’t even entered their paperwork at that point in time and it still took them another two months before they actually filed. At that point I knew I had to object to their appointment as executors. 
I entered an objection in court to my aunts being executors. In the meanwhile my brother and his wife diverted all the mail to their house and told me they were paying all of the bills until an estate account was established. That wasn’t the case at all. They just didn’t want me to know what was going on. By the grace of god back when my mom was in the hospital earlier in the year; she told me to hide some paperwork in her closet after I caught them snooping the first time. Luckily I was able to call all the utilities and stuff and pay the past due bills to keep the house going until someone was appointed. 
After I filed my objection, after months of not talking to me, my brother and aunts started to reach out to me and tried to scare and bully me into dropping my objection, threatening to stop paying bills and let the house become abandoned and occupied by squatters. They had no idea I already had the info and paid the bills. They even went so far as to try to get to me by harassing other family members to deliver their messages. I was NOT dropping my objection. No way in HELL. I knew I had a good chance of winning and so finally I responded to all of the threats telling my “aunts” (I don’t even like to dignify them with that title anymore) that if they really cared about my mom’s hard earned money as they claimed they did, they’d step back and let my brother and I handle everything. Sure enough three days later my attorney called me and told me my aunts agreed to resign. 
It still took another few months to get all the paperwork in with the courts. I had severe anxiety during those months. Finally, last week I received my letters of testamentary. I am still in hell. Part of the agreement we signed when my aunts resigned was a stipulation we added that my brother had to act on his own and carry all his executor duties, in his own capacity. Why did we add this? Well two days before my mom died, he signed over power of attorney to his wife so she can be a stand in administrator of my mom’s estate, and act in place of him. 
They signed the agreement but that hasn’t stopped his wife from thinking she is in charge. Instead of being a woman and stepping aside, what does she do? After he signed his oath as executor, she creates a new email in his name and starts sending me these bs emails like she is in charge and I am her assistant or something. My attorney has told me that my “brother” cannot refuse to communicate with me any other way aside from email. He will not meet with me in person or call me on the phone. They are collecting assets and not even telling me what they’re doing, once again trying to keep me in the dark. They are idiots. Me and my mom were best friends. I know everything that was going on in her life. I will NEVER be in the dark about her. It’s so obvious my brother is not writing the emails. The manipulative, controlling and demanding undertone is not him. The argumentativeness is not him. The lack of heart and care is not him…..and that’s what I find most disturbing. They are not grieving. I am. My brother told me the other day he wanted to have the house sold before the school year and before the winter show doesn’t have to pay another oil bill. We are inheriting a pretty decent chunk of change. The few hundred for the oil bill will be nothing in comparison to what we are getting. They don’t even want to hire a real estate agent to sell the house. They want to milk every penny out of the estate that he possibly can. He has no interest in anything in the house. Not even for his daughter to have something of her grandmothers. I am so disappointed in him.As he lives in his large half million dollar home, in an upper middle class neighborhood and drives his expensive truck, he worries about saving a few bucks off her last months insurance. It’s disturbing. He is a mere shell of who he once was. My mother’s wishes, which he is WELL aware of, aren’t even of any importance to him. It’s all about money…..nothing more, nothing less. 
I on the other hand am having a very hard time letting go. I’m not looking to squander assets but I want to take time and do things with care. I want to go through my mom’s house and look at everything. This was my childhood home. There are 35 years worth of memories in that home. My dad passed away in 2006 and so that house is really all that’s left of our family. I thought about keeping it and renting it out but I don’t even know if that’s feasible. My husband has no interest in being a landlord and I can’t say I blame him. We cared for her house and our own for the past four years. We sacrificed the last year of our lives to care for her. My husband has been more of a son to my mom than my own brother. We need a break. My husband also doesn’t want to live in my mom’s house because it’s in the town we grew up in. Unfortunately I cannot be selfish as much as I want to be. I have to do what’s best for my family and not just myself. I am beside myself. I really am. 
Not only did I lose my mom this year, I also lost my brother and half of my extended family. My grief counselor told me during our last session that I have ALL of the factors that complicate grief, and those are, the age of the decedent, the closeness of the relationship and a lack of family support. There was one other but I forget it. I often wonder if my brother is even grieving. I wonder if he misses my mom at all. He treated her like dirt for the last three years of her life. At one time, like him and I, they had a very close relationship. I’ve even questioned if maybe my brother is also a narcissist, just like his wife. When I think back on the rest of his life I don’t think so. I think that’s who he is forced to be because he cannot be himself anymore. I don’t even think he knows who he is anymore. 

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Finally….I got my papers 

I was going to post this on a Facebook group for those of us who are grieving our parents, but I decided to post it here instead since I can post it anonymously. Since I wanted to update this blog anyway with where things are at now, I figured I’d give you all a summary of what’s been going on in the last few months. I plan to update more regularly. Anyway here is where things currently stand. 

Finally, after 9 months of fighting, I am the executor on my mom’s estate….well co-executor. It’s a really long story, but I had to fight to get that title. It’s something I know my mom wanted me to have, but just didn’t have the time to give me. Her house sat there for 9 months and finally I can go in it and take what I want without feeling like I’m doing something wrong. Getting rid of her house is going to be so hard for me. It’s my childhood home. My parents moved in there April of 1981, almost exactly a month after I was born. For the first few months after she passed, it was still there and it gave me some kind of comfort and made me feel close to her. As time wore on and spiders and other bugs became the main occupants of the now vacant home, I started to dread going there to check on it. I am having a really hard time now with all of this. I feel like my grief was on hold for 9 months because to me going through her stuff and clearing out her house is a necessary part of the process. 

What makes things worse is that I have been estranged from my brother for 4 years. He married someone who I believe is a real deal, clinical, certified narcissistic psychopath. She completely destroyed our relationship. She hates me. She hates me because she knows I have her number. Not only did she destroy our relationship but she destroyed the one between him and my mom. They treated her like sh*t when she was well and it wasn’t until she was diagnosed with a rare form of aggressive cancer, that all of the sudden she wanted to act friendly with my mom. That was only so she can get into my mom’s personal financial business and estimate how much if her money her and my brother would be getting. They put me through complete hell while my mom was dying in the hospital that last month of life. They invaded her privacy in multiple occasions without her consent. They lied to her, manipulated her and made her feel bad about making me her healthcare proxy. They harassed her about getting her affairs in order even though they knew damn well they were in order. My mom didn’t want to talk about her cancer, let alone accept the fact that she was dying. They even went so far as planting a camera in her house and threatening to sue me when when I removed it! Those two a-holes left her high and dry when she came home from having an 8″ mass and her kidney removed. The night I brought her to the ER for the last time, they were in the city at a comedy show. Their lives went on as if nothing was going on. Mine didn’t. I suffered every second along side her the whole way through, to the very end. 
I had no choice really but to be co-executor with my brother. My mom’s will actually named two of her sisters who have also been charmed by the sociopath. There’s some history there too but I’ll spare you guys the details. I knew if my aunts were executors the sociopath would still be running the show and instead of dealing with 2 a-holes I’d be dealing with four! For years prior to my mom being sick she talked about making me the executor of her will. She did not want my brother’s wife involved in her affairs and she made it well known to EVERYONE she knew, and especially her two sisters! For years she thought my brother was the executor and she wanted to have that changed. To this day I do not know why she thought that. I was in shock the first time I saw her will and saw her sisters named. 
After my mom passed my brother tried to bypass her will and become administrator of her estate. I believe he had this plan in action well before she died and my aunts were in on it with him. He lied to an attorney, and perjured himself by signing documents saying that to his best knowledge, no will existed. My attorney told me in his 40+ years in law, he NEVER saw anyone file a petition for administration that fast after someone dies. My brother knew damn well that my mom had a will and I had the text messages to prove it. I had to hunt down the lawyer who wrote my mom’s will in 1996. I finally found him and filed her will putting my brother’s admin attempt to a grinding halt. I was ok with my aunts doing it until one day I caught my brother and his wife removing boxes of stuff from my mom’s house. His wife had the nerve to call the police on ME for being on MY property, while she was tresspassing! They told the cop that my aunts told them they could take what they wanted! My aunts hadn’t even entered their paperwork at that point in time and it still took them another two months before they actually filed. At that point I knew I had to object to their appointment as executors. 
I entered an objection in court to my aunts being executors. In the meanwhile my brother and his wife diverted all the mail to their house and told me they were paying all of the bills until an estate account was established. That wasn’t the case at all. They just didn’t want me to know what was going on. By the grace of god back when my mom was in the hospital earlier in the year; she told me to hide some paperwork in her closet after I caught them snooping the first time. Luckily I was able to call all the utilities and stuff and pay the past due bills to keep the house going until someone was appointed. 
After I filed my objection, after months of not talking to me, my brother and aunts started to reach out to me and tried to scare and bully me into dropping my objection, threatening to stop paying bills and let the house become abandoned and occupied by squatters. They had no idea I already had the info and paid the bills. They even went so far as to try to get to me by harassing other family members to deliver their messages. I was NOT dropping my objection. No way in HELL. I knew I had a good chance of winning and so finally I responded to all of the threats telling my “aunts” (I don’t even like to dignify them with that title anymore) that if they really cared about my mom’s hard earned money as they claimed they did, they’d step back and let my brother and I handle everything. Sure enough three days later my attorney called me and told me my aunts agreed to resign. 
It still took another few months to get all the paperwork in with the courts. I had severe anxiety during those months. Finally, last week I received my letters of testamentary. I am still in hell. Part of the agreement we signed when my aunts resigned was a stipulation we added that my brother had to act on his own and carry all his executor duties, in his own capacity. Why did we add this? Well two days before my mom died, he signed over power of attorney to his wife so she can be a stand in administrator of my mom’s estate, and act in place of him. 
They signed the agreement but that hasn’t stopped his wife from thinking she is in charge. Instead of being a woman and stepping aside, what does she do? After he signed his oath as executor, she creates a new email in his name and starts sending me these bs emails like she is in charge and I am her assistant or something. My attorney has told me that my “brother” cannot refuse to communicate with me any other way aside from email. He will not meet with me in person or call me on the phone. They are collecting assets and not even telling me what they’re doing, once again trying to keep me in the dark. They are idiots. Me and my mom were best friends. I know everything that was going on in her life. I will NEVER be in the dark about her. It’s so obvious my brother is not writing the emails. The manipulative, controlling and demanding undertone is not him. The argumentativeness is not him. The lack of heart and care is not him…..and that’s what I find most disturbing. They are not grieving. I am. My brother told me the other day he wanted to have the house sold before the school year and before the winter show doesn’t have to pay another oil bill. We are inheriting a pretty decent chunk of change. The few hundred for the oil bill will be nothing in comparison to what we are getting. They don’t even want to hire a real estate agent to sell the house. They want to milk every penny out of the estate that he possibly can. He has no interest in anything in the house. Not even for his daughter to have something of her grandmothers. I am so disappointed in him.As he lives in his large half million dollar home, in an upper middle class neighborhood and drives his expensive truck, he worries about saving a few bucks off her last months insurance. It’s disturbing. He is a mere shell of who he once was. My mother’s wishes, which he is WELL aware of, aren’t even of any importance to him. It’s all about money…..nothing more, nothing less. 
I on the other hand am having a very hard time letting go. I’m not looking to squander assets but I want to take time and do things with care. I want to go through my mom’s house and look at everything. This was my childhood home. There are 35 years worth of memories in that home. My dad passed away in 2006 and so that house is really all that’s left of our family. I thought about keeping it and renting it out but I don’t even know if that’s feasible. My husband has no interest in being a landlord and I can’t say I blame him. We cared for her house and our own for the past four years. We sacrificed the last year of our lives to care for her. My husband has been more of a son to my mom than my own brother. We need a break. My husband also doesn’t want to live in my mom’s house because it’s in the town we grew up in. Unfortunately I cannot be selfish as much as I want to be. I have to do what’s best for my family and not just myself. I am beside myself. I really am. 
Not only did I lose my mom this year, I also lost my brother and half of my extended family. My grief counselor told me during our last session that I have ALL of the factors that complicate grief, and those are, the age of the decedent, the closeness of the relationship and a lack of family support. There was one other but I forget it. I often wonder if my brother is even grieving. I wonder if he misses my mom at all. He treated her like dirt for the last three years of her life. At one time, like him and I, they had a very close relationship. I’ve even questioned if maybe my brother is also a narcissist, just like his wife. When I think back on the rest of his life I don’t think so. I think that’s who he is forced to be because he cannot be himself anymore. I don’t even think he knows who he is anymore. 

Busted!! 

It had now been nearly month since my mom had passed away. For over a year now, my husband and I had been talking about leasing a new truck. My car payment was up in March 2017 and so my husband thought up this idea that he’d take my car and we’d lease a new truck for me to be used as a family car. He had scoped out the car, and so one night while I was out, I decided to go take it for a test drive. I had just left the dealership when I get a text from my mom’s neighbor telling me that Satan’s car was at my mom’s house and she was carrying out boxes and putting them in the back of her car. She told me she didn’t see my brother and so as soon as I got the text, I immediately started heading to the house. If it was justSatan  in the house when I got there, there was going to be a huge fucking problem. The last time I spoke to my brother, when I confronted him about the emails I saw on my mom’s phone, he flat out told me that I should NOT be taking anything from the house until the will was settled. Now here was his wife carrying boxes out of my mom’s house. That’s a little fucked up for them to say. 
I was just about on the expressway when I got the text, and so I gunned it past the next four exits, heading to my mom’s house. I had been trying to catch them there for months now, but I was always too late. I called my husband up and was on the phone with him until I pulled up to the house. Finally, I saw their truck in the driveway. My husband told me to pull behind Satan to block her in because if she was indeed alone there, she was trespassing and stealing. I parked my car parallel to the street, blocking the driveway. 
I sat there in my car for a few second and tried to scope out the situation, but I couldn’t really see much, so I got out of my car and slowly walked up to the house. As I got up to the house, I see my brother walking by the big picture window in the living room. I walked up to the front door and try to open it but the door was locked. I grabbed my keys and quietly unlocked the door. I walked in to see two rows of garbage bags, lined up, stretching across my mom’s living room. There had to be at least 16 bags in there, full of what, I didn’t know. 
I can hear the noise of packing tape being torn off the roll and so I followed the sound to this small home office that my dad had built years ago, when he owned his own business. He split up our garage and made the one half his office and the other a small garage area for storage. I walked up and leaned against the door frame with my hand on my hip and said, “Oh hey, what are you guys doing here?”. My brother answered my question with the very same question for me. I replied with, “oh I was just in the neighborhood and decided to stop in…….so what are you doing here?”. First he claimed to had been there to clean out the food from the fridge and stuff. I looked over to see Satan standing there, holding the baby and nervously pacing back and forth. I knew she was biting her tongue. Next to her were two piles of boxes stacked almost as high as her head. I then said to my brother, “Well what are you putting in these boxes then?” and at that moment he snapped back and told me that he was, “taking all of his old toys and stuff from the attic.”. Again I looked over at the boxes next to Satan and next to the two piles was my mom’s Christmas tree. When I finally moved out, to live with my husband, my mom had stopped putting up her big tree. Instead, she brought this 3-4ft tall fiber optic Christmas tree. My brother hated that thing. I knew he wasn’t the one who decided to take it and so I asked him, “oh, so is that Christmas tree one of your old toys?”. That’s when he really got pissed and told my to “mind my own fucking business” and that he can, take whatever the fuck he wants.”. I looked at him and told him that he was a money hungry, greedy piece of shit and I reminded him how he told me not to take anything from the house. Before he could even answer, Satan jumped in and says to him, “Don’t talk to her anymore, she’s crazy!”, and that was when I completely lost my shit! 
It had been three years in the making. Over the past three years I had only gotten into exactly ONE verbal confrontation with her, and that was when she showed up at my house, unexpectedly at 10:00 at night. The last few years,  but especially the last two months, came flying out of me in the most vile of ways. I yelled at her, “Shut your fucking mouth you dumb fucking twat! You dumb fucking twat, shut the fuck up!”. I think I called her every nasty name my imagination could conjour up. Finally, my brother told me to leave and I snapped back, “I’m not fucking going anywhere! I have just as much of a right to be here as you. I’ll sit right the fuck down and put my feet up on the coffee table.”. That’s when I heard Satan say, “I’m calling the cops.”. I walked back in the room and shouted, “Good! Go ahead and call the cops because you’re only going to make yourself look like a fucking idiot, because you are trespassing on the property!”. “As a matter of fact…”, I said, “I’ll call the cops too.”. I dialed 911, but I was bluffing, or so I thought, I wanted to see if she actually called them first but as I said it I accidentally hit the call button on my phone. A few seconds later I heard a voice and hung up. Then moments after that I get a call back from 911. I answer the phone and tell the officer what’s going on.
I walked through the house which had random items scattered all over the place. As I talked to the dispatcher I decided it would probably be best if I just waited outside until the cops came. I didn’t want to scare my brothers 18 month old kid anymore. The sad part is, the kid didn’t seem the least bit upset or scared with all the yelling. It must be a normal occurrence in their home, and she’s been desensitized to it. 
I was outside for all of about two minutes when suddenly I hear the front door flying open. I look up and out comes Satan with the baby in her arms and she walks down the porch steps and says to me, “you need to move your car.”. As I watch her walk by, I turned and told her, “I’m not moving shit! You called the cops and now you’re going to wait until they get here.”. She huffed and puffed her way to the car and put the baby in her car seat. My brother followed a few seconds later. 
As my brother walked by I asked him why he went to a lawyer and lied about my mom having a will. He didn’t answer and so I asked again. Finally he turned around and said, “because you stole the will!”. I told him, “no you fucking asshole, I never had the will. I had to get it from the lawyer and I have the letter and the envelope to prove it.”. That’s when he said one of the most fucked up accusations of all, that I forged a document. When the lawyer sent me both of my parents’ wills, he also sent a cover letter that said he sent the wills at my request, and he dated and signed the letter. My brother was accusing me of forging the letter! If I was going to take my chances forging the letter, why wouldn’t I forge the entire will then and leave all the money to myself?! I never heard such stupid bullshit in my life but I was really fucking angry. My brother has known me my whole life and knows what kind of person I am. I don’t know who made up this psychotic version of me but I have my guesses. 
He walked back into the house briefly and came back out. In that time I had pulled up a photo of the letter and I showed it to him and asked, “This? You think I forged this?”. You have to be fucking kidding me…. I have the fedex envelope at home, I can prove it to you.”. He looked up and dead into my eyes and said, “I don’t believe you!”. I yelled back, “you are so fucked up! What happened to you?”, and then I asked, “where’s your integrity?”. 
The whole time all of this is going on, their kid is sitting in the car in the complete darkness. They didn’t even bother to start the car. It was December 17th and it was freezing that night. There was about an inch of snow covering the ground. Despite that though, Satan was walking around in this sleeveless, shirt with ruffles on the shoulders, like it was the middle of July! I guess when you’re cold blooded the winter doesn’t bother you as much? 
At this point there was so much commotion, my mom’s neighbors slowly started coming outside to see what was going on. My brother  and Satan are in and out of the house carrying things back and forth. Him and Satan are trying to lock me out of the house and it got ugly. At one point, my brother and I got into a screaming match, right on the front porch. Satan is trying to lock me out the house, but I pulled the door back open. She sticks her head up and started yelling in my face, “I will have you arrested and locked away for a long time!”, like she’s the sheriffs daughter or something.  “I told her to shut the fuck up!”. More of her psychotic threats. My brother is about 2 inches away from my face with his fist clenched and his arm up and cocked back in the air like he’s going to hit me. Satan yells out, “don’t hit her! That’s what she came here for.” 
Let’s just let that soak in for a second. I think that last statement is a testament to how truly fucked up her mind is. Why on earth would I come there with the sole purpose of having my brother punch me in the face? My mind would never Think that way. Obviously since she is the one who said it, that’s the way her mind operates. I’m not into setting people up like that. Only a psychopath wound think of or do such a thing.
As my brother is holding up his fist I was screaming, “go ahead, hit me! Hit me!”. I knew he wouldn’t. Suddenly without any notice Satan come out of the door and fully launches herself between me and my brother. My instincts kicked in and as she came towards me, with the back of my arms, I shoved her. I am not exaggerating when I say the very second my arm came into contact with her body, she flew back a second and started screaming, “She hit me! I’m pressing charges!”. I swear over my son, she then took her hand and lifted up the ruffles on her shirt saying that I left marks while trying to scratch herself so there were visible marks! She did it several times! I watched her. I couldn’t even believe what I was seeing! If nothing else in this blog has convinced you that this girl is a full fledged psychopath, this should! 
Things escalated so quickly that I cannot remember every detail in its exact order, but I do remember at some point I asked them which one of them stole the pain killers. They both looked like two deers caught in the headlights. Neither of them denied it. They just told me I was crazy (deflection). Had they not taken them they would’ve probably said something like, “what pills?”, or “where were there pain killers?”. I also asked them the million dollar question, a question a have asked my brother SEVERAL times since my mom’s passing, “where were you when she was alive?”. Neither of them ever answer that question when it’s posed, and sometimes it’s the lack of an answer that tells you everything you need to know. 
Things cooled down a bit after the screaming match on the front porch. My brother and Satan went back into the house and I stayed outside. I stood there smoking a cigarette, pacing up and down my mom’s walkway. I could see my brother and Satan standing in my mom’s living room just a few feet away from the large window. Satan is frantically going through her phone, dialing numbers and putting the phone up to her ear. My brother was just standing there still, staring off into space with this look on his face like he was thinking, “this is not good!”. I really do wonder at times if my brother realizes how much he has let this girl fuck up his life. I also wonder if he’s even upset that my mom passed or that him and I no longer have a relationship. Sometimes I wonder if there is any part of the brother I once knew, in existence. 
My husband called as I was standing out there and I had explained everything that had happened up until that point. Suddenly I hear the door opening behind me and out comes Satan and a few seconds later, my brother. Satan walks right past me and gets into her car. I’m giving my husband the play by play, “oh here they come now, they’re getting in the car! She’s starting the car……where the fuck are they going? They called the cops!…….oh she is putting her seatbelt on…..what the fuck?…… she’s backing up!…….she better not hit my car!…….what is this crazy bitch doing?……she better not hit my car ……..she’s going into drive……where the fuck is she going?….she’s…..holy shit! She’s…..she fucking driving across my mom’s front lawn! HOLY SHIT!!!!!

Yes, this crazy bitch some how did some Austin Powers maneuver and managed to get her car which was parked, sandwiched behind behind my mom’s and mine, and she fucking drove across the lawn! She then peeled out into the street and drove out of sight. God blessed us with snow that night so I could capture a nice photo of the tire tracks going across the lawn. 

By this point in time all of the neighbors are outside and they’re all just standing there completely dumbfounded, and then one says, “What the fuck was that all about?”. I yell back across the street, “you got me!”. 
She wasn’t even gone a minute and finally the police officer arrives. He opens his window and asks, what’s going on. I turned around and pointed to the tire tracks on my mom’s front lawn and said, “well for starters, that’s what’s going on.”. Some of the neighbors crept over and listened in as I explained the situation to the cop. As I’m talking, I suddenly hear what sounds like a car skidding out. I look down to the end of the block and see Satan stopped on the middle of the road that crosses over my mom’s street. She throws the car in reverse and turns down the block with her tires screeching the whole way. She pulls over and her and my brother come out of the car all calm and collected like nothing has happened and they start explaining their side of the story, of course making themselves seem like the innocent victims. 
The cop was kind of an asshole and didn’t seem like he even wanted to be bothered with this situation. Satan was doing all of the talking, explaining how she talked to the “executors”, (aunt Bea and Aunt Debbie) and they said that they could take whatever the fuck the wanted, but all they were taking was my brother’s old Star Wars figures from the attic. I explained to the cop how they told me not to remove any items from the house and then they are there doing exactly that. I also explained how no executors had been appointed yet and so no one should be telling them to take anything. The cops then asks me if I really care that my brother is taking his stuff from the house and I explained to him that he was taking more stuff than what was his and that I couldn’t see what was in the boxes. The cop asks e if I care that he’s taking “his” stuff. I said no, but I argued back that if we go that route, I can say that anything in the house is “my stuff” and that I can take it. Technically ifits in her house it’s her property. I also told him that his wife shouldn’t be in there taking anything either because it’s not her mother’s house. I think he kind of understood at that point and so he told us we should all just lock up the house and leave. My brother asked if he could go back in the house to clean up and bring the garbage bags out and so the cop said ok, but only him. I stood out there and explained to the cop that I was sorry for being so agitated and hostile. I explained  that they were never around when my mom was alive, but that they now had no problem going through all of her stuff. Satan then walked back over and starts going on again about how I left marks on her. She was walking over to the car with her arm out, trying to show the cop the invisible marks on her arms. I looked down and told her they were freckles and that she needed to look in a mirror. She started going on about how she was going to go down to the precinct and press charges on me. She must be a professional at falsely accusing people of shit since she knew that you must go down to the precinct to do so. The cop turned to her and said, “That shit ain’t gonna fly here honey, just go sit in your car and wait.”. She walks away mumbling some shit about me being crazy and needing to be medicated and so I asked her, “oh you mean like the medication you stole from my mom?”. She finally turned around and threw her hands up and said, “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”. That’s another one of her favorite lines when she’s confront by something that’s irrefutable. 
Finally I realized the cop was going to be no help and so I asked him if I could just leave. I pulled down the block into the convenience store parking lot and waited. I was going to go in the house after they left to see what they took. That’s when I noticed another set of headlights coming down the block and stopping in front of my mom’s house. After a minute, I realized that it was my husband and so I pulled down the block again and got out. My husband later told me that as soon he got out of the car, Satan came running up to him with her arm out yelling, “look what your wife did to me!”. She was telling my husband that she was going to press charges and my husband said to her, “Satan, please stop. You want to go press charges, go ahead because my wife can g press charges because you are trespassing on the property.”. My brother jumped in to remind my husband that she was his wife, (which he also said to me when I pointed out the same thing) but the cop interjected by saying, “you should listen to your brother in law, (my husband) he’s right.”. My husband told them that He and Satan should step aside and let me brother and I handle things, but Satan wouldn’t allow it. He told them how ridiculous this whole thing was And a conversation started about the will and how my brother thought I had it and we thought he had it. My brother started explaining how they tried to contact the lawyer who drafted the will, but before he could finish, Satan jumped in and said, “don’t tell him anything.”. With that, she grabbed my brother’s arm and they got in the car and they left. That was the last time I saw or spoke with my brother. 

The wake, day 2, part 2

We hadn’t even made it to the funeral home yet and I knew it was going to be a long awkward day. My husband was irate. He told me to bring my mom’s truck back to the house immediately and so before the wake that’s what I did. I knew them being so nice was all a big bullshit act. I honestly don’t even think my brother had any clue as to what his wife was doing or saying. 
I still hadn’t had a good nights rest and by time I had reached the funeral home that day I was seriously in a state of complete shock. I tried to put all my ill feelings for my brother and his wife aside and just get through the day. I walked into the room to see my mom again. I walked up to the casket and knelt down and in my head I talked to her. I told her I was sorry. That I didn’t think I could fix things at this point. That I was so disappointed with my brother and I hoped she could see now and understand. 
As I walked around the room and looked at the old photos of days past I noticed there was another board filled with pictures and it wasn’t from me. When I got a better look I realized there was several photos from my brothers wedding. All the ones I didn’t include. There was also photos of my mom’s cousin and then various other people. I asked my cousin Nikki where that board came from and she told me Aunt Bea had brought it. Again that day my uncle Bob, Aunt Bea and even her kids sat off to the side right next to my brother and Satan. It was perfectly clear to me that day that they were trying to get under my skin. 
At some point halfway through I noticed that my Aunt’s and Uncle’s were all missing from the room. I asked someone where they went and I was told the funeral director brought them all downstairs to pick out their urns for my mom’s ashes. Then I noticed my grandmother was still in the room. No one had even thought to bring her down there to pick hers out and so I grabbed her and escorted her down to the showroom. My aunt Bea and Aunt Debbie were down there and as soon as Aunt Bea realized my grandmother hadn’t picked hers out, she grabbed her arm and started to drag her around the room. I left and let them take care of it from there. 
The first viewing had come and gone and my family came back to my mom’s house. After a while I realized that my brother and his wife weren’t there. They never showed up either. Didn’t matter anyway, they didn’t do a god damn thing to help out the day before. I forgot to add this in my post about the previous day so I’ll add it now. I had done all the shopping for the previous day but my brother told me he and Satan would bring the drinks. Of course they would, drinking is Satan’s favorite hobby. They came with a few bottles of Soda and one bottle of Sangria. Sangria for a wake? It just seems inappropriate, something you’d bring for a Cinco di mayo celebration. Anyway; my brother told me they were stopping and picking up drinks on the way there and asked if I needed anything. I realized that I forgot to buy sweetener for the coffee and so I asked him to pick some up. He shows up at the house and reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bunch of loose packets of various artificial sweeteners! He stole them from a local convenience store! I know they sell them there but Satan was probably too cheap to buy it herself. I just thought it was funny. 
At my mom’s house that day everyone had noticed that the lights were flickering in her kitchen. It happened the previous day too, but this day it was a lot more intense and everyone in the house was commenting on it. I had been in my mom’s house countless times in the past year and there was only one other time her lights were flickering like that. It was the day after her birthday. My husband and I were there because we didn’t attend the party at my brother’s house, the day prior. My brother and Satan conveniently forgot to give my mom her birthday gift at the party and so they showed up the next day with it. When they got there, the lights in the kitchen started to flicker like crazy. Satan didn’t like it. She was bugging out saying that it had to be because there was too much electric being used and so she ran around the house turning lights and air conditioners off trying to make it stop, but they just kept flickering. Every took it as a sign from my mom that she was with us. 
That day I really wanted to tell Uncle Bob he was not welcome in my mom’s home. It was very obvious he was visibly uncomfortable. He and Aunt Bea, both planted their asses in the living room that day and stayed there until it was time to go back to the funeral home. I couldn’t get it out of my head that my brother said he knew I was trying to get my mom to write him out of the will. There was only one place he could’ve gotten that from and I was looking right at the two guilty parties. 
By the time the second viewing came, I was completely wiped. I couldn’t talk anymore both literally and physically. I felt like a zombie, like someone had sucked the life out of me. As people were approaching me expressing their sympathy I hardly knew what to say anymore. I had told the story so many times at that point. I almost just wanted to hide in a corner and not be seen.
 At one point, my brother’s childhood best friend showed up. He had tried getting in touch with my brother but my brother never responded. I explained to him that my brother was with this succubus who wouldn’t allow him to have his own life. Knowing the story, he still came to pay his respects. A few days after the wake he messaged me to tell me that when he came to the wake he walked up to me and he could visually see that this had taken a huge toll on me. I looked wrecked over it. He said then he and his wife walked over to my brother and Satan and the vibe was completely different. They were laughing and talking like they were at a bar or something. He said they didn’t even look the least bit upset. He introduced his wife to my brother and he told me that Satan just turned her head away. Wouldn’t even give his wife the time of day. Yup, that sounded about right. 
The funeral director had asked us the previous day if we wanted a priest to do a eulogy. Although both me and my brother do not practice any religion we elected to have one because we knew it would bring comfort to my family. My mom was not religious either, but I believe she would’ve wanted a priest for the same reason. I also told the funeral director that I would’ve liked to say something too. The priest came in a few minutes before he was going to do his reading. Since we hadn’t attended church in over two decades, we didn’t really have a priest we were familiar with. He asked my brother and I a lot of questions about our mother. 
We went back in the room and lined up in the front row. I took my grandmother and sat her down in one of the big chairs. My husband sat on the opposite side. There was one chair left and obviously it was for my brother. My Aunt Bea went and grabbed another chair for Satan to sit next to us. It was symbolic of how we all thought of her. She was just an extra chair who never really felt part of the family. 
The priest did his reading in which I felt like I couldn’t even follow. I was really disappointed because it was totally impersonal. He didn’t make any mention of any of the things we had discussed about my mom prior. When he was done, he just said goodnight and walked away. He didn’t even ask if anyone else had anything to say about my mom. He just walked away. I had written a eulogy but I froze. I didn’t know what to do. I felt really strange standing up because by that time everyone started to get out of their seats and walk away. I never got to read my eulogy and I’m still upset about it to this day. 

The night was coming to an end and oddly enough, the lights in the room at the funeral home started to flicker just like the lights at the house, and everyone was commenting about it. This was it. Time to say goodbye to my mother forever. I looked around the room and realized there were so many cards. Before my brother could take them, I stated to go around the room and collect them. I also took the guest book. As the daughter, I felt it was my job to write out the thank you cards, to those who had attended the wake. I wanted to hold on to them for dear life. I knew if my brother got them there was no way he was writing out the cards. There was no way I was going to allow Satan to write out these cards. It was MY mother. They got to do everything else, this was my job. I purposely ordered blank cards so I could write a special message to everyone individually. 
I handed the cards off to my husband and told him not to let go of them. A few minutes later I see the funeral director taking them from him. I was so mad. They came in and pulled me and my brother out to the lobby. They had all the cards and photos put in bags. They handed us the death certificates and gave me four and my brother got five. As she stared to pack the Mass cards into the bag my brother asked if he could take half and I said, “no, I want to write out the cards.”. He sat there and argued with me and I firmly told him, “NO! Your wife is not writing out cards for my mother.”. He still took half of the thank you cards. I didn’t care. It was time I put my foot down and took control of my life. 
He and Satan left in a huff. I didn’t care. My aunts and uncles hung around to the end. We all stood there in silence around my mom’s casket. Everyone crying and holding one another. I felt like I couldn’t move. My grandmother went up to the casket and kissed my mom’s head and kept saying, “my baby, I love you.”. It was the most heartbreaking thing to watch. I couldn’t handle it. I broke down. I reflected on the last year and all me and my mom had gone through, all the ups and downs. All the struggles, the shock and disappointment. I felt like together we had gone to war, like we were soldiers of our own army. We both in our own ways fought so hard, right down to the end. I thought about how she suffered and endured so much pain both mental and physical and it was all for nothing. Saying that I felt defeated and deflated in that moment is an understatement. I felt like the biggest failure in the world. I couldn’t save her. I had been trying to save her for the last ten years of her life. Death changes you. My mom changed drastically after my dad died and I felt like I spent that last decade trying to find the old her and bring her back. I failed and especially in the last three years. I am a fixer by nature I just wanted to fix her but she was broken.
When she first got sick I promised her that I would be there with her to the very end, holding her hand and the one thing I could feel good about was at least that. I stick by her side to the last breath. I have never loved someone so much in my life. My mom was one of a kind. A truly unique person. The bond we shared was like no other. I will never be the same. My life is forever changed and I feel this huge void, this emptiness that I can’t even explain. I feel like half of me is missing. My mom was ALWAYS there for me. She loved me unconditionally, and it was truly unconditional. She always had my back and was the only person in this world who really, and purely understood who I was…..because she made me who I am today and I am so proud and lucky that I got to call her mom, for 35 years. 
The night was over. I was the last person to leave the room that night. I rubbed her arm one last time and told her I love and will miss her forever. I told her to go be with my dad. She is free now. Free from all the misery this world brought to her. Free from the pain. Free from the stress. She is finally at peace. I never truly understood what that meant when people said it after someone died, but now I get it. She is in heaven. 
From that day on I knew I was heading into a whole new battle. One like I had never known before and everything I thought was going to happen… well it happened. 

The wake, day 2 part one 

It was the day before thanksgiving and the final day of my mom’s wake. I woke up that morning still reeling about the email alert I saw on her phone that someone had changed the primary email address on one of her accounts. I had enough of the sneaky bullshit from my brother and his wife and it was time they both knew that I was on to them and wasn’t fucking around anymore. I text my brother first thing in the morning and sent him a screen shot of the email and asked him, “who is making changes in mommy’s accounts?” I also informed him that he shouldn’t be making any changes or doing anything without discussing it with me first. He answered me back, “I’m not doing any of that.”. I asked him, “then who is?”. I also noticed another email that changes were made on her Verizon account and so I told him about that one too. He responded that he had no idea and asked if there were any others. Obviously someone was doing something. These places don’t know someone is dead until they are notified by the family. I then asked him, “How’d someone change the primary email on mommy’s [money market] account?”. I then said, ” It wasn’t mommy because she died on the 20th. I called the inheritance dept and they’re going to investigate it.”. I wanted to give him a chance to be honest but he replied with this, “And side note, if I shouldn’t be in any of those accounts without speaking to you first, should you then not be in any of those accounts without speaking with me first?”. The funny part was, I wasn’t in the accounts. I had no interest in them until I saw the email. I wasn’t finished, I also let told him, “And also, [Satan] shouldn’t be making ANY phone calls to ANY companies, [newspapers], [oil company] or otherwise.”. 
He text me back to call him but I wasn’t about to get into a huge blowout. Plus, I wanted his words in writing and mine as well. At this point in time I knew I had to protect myself. Then he texts me this. “1. I can call about any account that I am a beneficiary on, just like you can. “. I was still explaining to him how I came across the email. “I just got an email alert. I’m not in the accounts. I’m trying to deal with getting through the funeral.”. Since he didn’t yet respond to my text about his wife I wanted to make sure he saw it so I wrote, “[Satan] needs to stop calling. She told my husband. She really needs to step back it’s MY mother.”. That’s when he sent me a text that put me into a complete state of shock and showed me just how stupid he really was. “2. I gave [Satan] power of attorney for me, so she can call on my behalf anywhere…..” and then another message that said, “it’s my mother too.”. 

What in the actual fuck, I thought to myself. I seriously thought he was joking. No one could be that stupid!! I sarcastically replied, “Oh really. Ok. Where is the paperwork?”. I really thought he was fucking with me. I didn’t think he was that dumb and brainwashed by her. 
Throughout my mom’s entire hospital stay, I had tried to get him to sit down and talk. He ignored me every time and so once again, I brought up the fact that we should all be discussing this stuff together as a team. I wrote, “Ok well regardless we should all be sitting down and discussing this shit first. Where were you guys when mommy was alive? That’s what I’d like to know. There was no interest in helping then.”. I have to note here that I have said things of this nature to my brother several times since my mom’s passing. He NEVER responds to it. EVER! He doesn’t respond because he knows he doesn’t have an answer. He wasn’t there to help and he knows it. 
I then wrote, “send me a copy of the form. Please.”. My brother was still defending himself and wrote, “You also can’t be going in the house and taking what you want, or “telling me” that you’re taking mom’s truck. That’s not how it works. All of mom’s stuff belongs to the Estate until the will is settled.”. Such bullshit. I couldn’t believe he even said that after his wife called my husband and was offering up things that weren’t even hers. As far as me offering up stuff, did he really have a problem with giving our 89 year old grandmother my mom’s bed? I wrote back to him, “ha ha ok. [Satan] called [my husband] this morning and said I can take the truck.”
Again he was trying to get me on the phone to call him and I replied, “Im not fighting with you. Let’s get through today. I just want you to know that I know what’s going on.”, and then,”You can ask ANYONE, mommy didn’t want [Satan] touching any of her stuff. I have her saying it on tape if you’d like to hear it. So you’re going against her wishes, NOT MINE.” His reply to that, “Her will says what her wishes are. That we get everything 50/50. That’s it. That’s not you taking what you want, giving away what you want.”. What he said next though, was the real kicker, “Don’t try to guilt me. And I know you were trying to have her write me out of the will.”. 
I sincerely have NO FUCKING CLUE where he got that from and it sincerely pisses me off that he even thinks that. It’s insulting. I don’t know when I’ve EVER been known to screw over my family. This is news to me. There was NEVER any type of discussion between me and my mom like that. In fact, years ago, long before we knew of my mom’s cancer, she said to me one day that she wanted to cut my brother from her will because she didn’t want “that bitch” (Satan) having her money. My exact words to my mom, “well that’s fucking stupid! You’re not going to be here, who cares. I told her that if she did that she would be guaranteeing my brother and I would never talk again. I then told her if she did that, I’d just give him half anyway so it wouldn’t matter. That was the first and last time we ever discussed it and that was three years prior to her death. I would never do such a thing. Do I feel after the last three years the way my brother treated my mom that he deserved anything? At times, no but the reality was that my mom still loved my brother. That for the better part of his life, he was a good son to her. I would never, ever, try to fuck my family over like that, EVER! I was so insulted that whoever told my brother that, he actually believed it. 
After that he sent me 7 photos, page by page of the power of attorney forms. I had to make this clear to many people because I’d tell them the story and they though my mom had signed power of attorney over to my brother. No, my brother signed power of attorney, FOR HIMSELF, over to his wife so that she can handle my mom’s affairs, for him! My brother isn’t an idiot. It’s not like he’s a dumb, helpless fool. His wife makes him seem like one but he’s not. 
I sent the photos of the documents over to my husband and as he looked them over he realized that they were signed and dated on the 18th and with that we realized that, that was probably what she pulled out of her bag when him and I walked into the hospital room. It made me sick that her and my brother were sitting right at my mom’s bedside while she was laying there dying, talking about this shit, right in front of her, like she wasn’t even there. Since my mom’s death I’ve found out that those weren’t the only things being discussed by my mom’s bedside. I recently found out that on the day that the woman came from the funeral home, and I had said something to Satan, she went back in my mom’s room where Uncle Bob was sitting, along with my cousin Nikki’s mom and the two of them were talking shit about me, saying how I was “fucking dead to them.”. My aunt walked out of the room because she couldn’t believe how fucking wrong it was. That will haunt me for the rest of my life. How could they do that? They knew how upset my mom was over all of this. How could they stand there and talk about this shit in front of her? 
I replied back to my brother’s last stupid comment to me, “And I’m not taking MOMMY’S Car right now. I told you my breaks are shot on my car.”, and I added, “I wasn’t trying ANYTHING. I NEVER spoke to mommy about her will! EVER. Who told you that? Aunt bea? Wow you are delusional! Mommy actually told me about three years ago that she wanted to do that and I told her I’d be really pissed if she did and I’d give you half of everything anyway. You are fucking sick of you think that. Mommy told ME that she wanted to make me the executor. She told just about everyone she knows that. I NEVER spoke to her obviously because I’m not the executor. “. I had to let him know, “She didn’t like your wife and that’s the only reason why. It was nothing against you.”. He text me back, “you are being blocked, I’m done.”. 
Of course that was his answer. He never wanted to discuss any of the real issues. Whenever he was confronted with reality, he ran away. Whenever he didn’t have an answer, he ran away. Whenever I tried to resolve things, he ran away. His wife controlled his every move in life and now it was more than abundantly clear that she kept his balls locked inside her purse for safe keepings. He had completely lost his mind and control over his own life and his own relationships. I let him know, “It’s obvious that your wife needs to control everything and mommy just wanted me to have a fighting chance since I am the one who took care of her. Regardless she never changed it and you guys and us should talk before you go changing account email addresses and canceling shit……All you fucking care about is money anyway.”. By that time, I was blocked. 
I know my words were harsh and I take full responsibility over them. Everyone has a breaking point in life and he had way more than crossed the threshold. I kept my mouth shut for three years while his wife disrespected my mother, talked to her like she was some piece of trash off the streets, had no empathy for her. They went through her safe, into her most personal stuff, opened her mail, snooped around her home and I kept my mouth shut. I let them bully me into having a representative from the funeral home come to the hospital while she was still breathing, I let them decide when her wake was and how long it would be, I fucking had enough. Was the timing wrong of all of this? Yes, maybe it was. Maybe I should’ve waited but they had no consideration for mine or my mother’s feelings for three fucking years. I was done. 
(To be continued in my next post)

The wake, day one 

I woke up early the next morning. The wake wasn’t until about 1:00 in the afternoon. I took some coffee and I ran straight to walmart in my pajamas. I was so thankful my my cousin and my mom’s cousin had gathered some photos for me. The rest I randomly selected off my mom’s Facebook page. I printed 109 photos in total that morning. 
I rushed home and like a machine I glued them all down to the boards. By the time I had finished I had enough time to get in the shower and get dressed. My husband and I opted to not bring my son to the wake. Although I wanted him to say goodbye to my mom, I didn’t want to put him and myself through the trauma. At three years old, only one month shy of turning four and he was at a weird stage where he was aware something wasn’t right but he couldn’t really understand what. I didn’t think he’d understand why my mom was laying there and not moving or why she couldn’t wake up. I thought it was too much for him to handle and so we had my sister-in-law watch him. 
My husband met me at the funeral home. Miraculously that morning my brother informed my husband that my mom’s life insurance plan didn’t lapse and so the funeral expenses would be paid by that after all. Personally I don’t think there ever was a lapse in the insurance. I think that was Satan just being vindictive because I was down with her Irish pub idea. 
My cousin Tina came out and helped me carry the photo boards into the funeral home. We waited in the lobby as the funeral director set up the boards. It was time to enter the room. I took a deep breath and walked through the doors. I was overwhelmed by the amount of flowers that were sent. They spanned the entire wall. My whole family had arrived by that point and we all walked in together. My husband and walked up to the casket. For the first time ever I didn’t feel scared at a funeral. It was also the first time I ever touched a dead person. I rubbed my mom’s arm. It felt hard and cold like a piece of wood. In a strange way, this part was the easy part to me. She was finally at peace. What I watched her endure for the last few months of her life, that was the hard part. I had non-stop anxiety for the last year of my life. I worried about her constantly. I never felt so helpless and powerless in my life. I lived in a constant state of fear, worry and stress. The stress had gotten to me so bad that it was starting to take a physical toll on my body. For the last few years I had started to break out in these two small patches of psoriasis on my scalp. When my mom was in the hospital that last month, the psoriasis covered my entire scalp. I had to wear a hat to the hospital everyday to cover up the medication that made my hair look oily and greasy. Still my itchy, greasy scalp was absolutely nothing compared to what I watched her go through. Seeing her finally at peace was actually a relief, in a weird sense. 
I had asked my brother to print some more photos because I had forgotten to print the ones he sent to me. I told him to take whatever photos he wanted down and to replace them with his photos. It was an honest mistake. To be honest though, I had not used all of the photos he had ha fed me the previous day at the funeral home. I used the one photo of my mom and his daughter and two of the five wedding photos that were in the envelope and that was already two too many. One of them I ripped in half in anger, knowing my mom was so upset that day and what that day caused her to go through. Yes it was an immature and stupid move. I have no excuse. I didn’t want to be accused of not including him so I made sure I chose a lot of old photos with him in them. I personally had no photos of him from the last three years because we didn’t speak. 

The most recent photos I personally had of him was from my son’s christening when he was 6 months old. 
After everyone kneeled down at my mom’s coffin and said their prayers, it was time to open the doors and let the public in. I turned around and saw my grandmother sitting in the second row of seats behind the big chairs that are usually reserved for the closest family members to the deceased. I told her to come sit in one of the big chairs. That was her baby. I placed my coat and purse on the other chair. I looked over to see my brother and Satan sitting off to the side in the rows where the non family usually sit. Satan was sitting down and I observed my uncle Bob entering the room. He walked over to her and sat down right next to her and put his arm around her as if she were the grieving daughter. For the entire length of the wake, my uncle Bob never came up to me and expressed his sorrow for my loss. He never even looked at to me. 

 

To me, my Uncle bob had made it distinctively clear that he was on my brother’s side. I still cannot believe that he used my mom’s death as a way to get back at me for “outing” his child molester son. I never had any type of argument or fight with him or my Aunt Bea for that matter. All I did was speak the truth that my family took the side of his son, the perpetrator, and not the victim, in a letter that I wrote to my aunt Debbie. I know she showed him that letter. As angry as I was with their son I always treated my Aunt and Uncle with the utmost respect. The fact that my uncle could stand in that room and not even so much as say sorry to me, shows what type of person he really is. I will never talk to that piece of shit again. He’s lucky I didn’t ask the funeral director to escort his ass out of there. 
A serious situation like a death will show you the true colors of the people around you. My Aunt Bea and Uncle Bob put on a very convincing act for the rest of the world. Where I come from, when someone dies you put all the bullshit aside. In the days leading up to and after my mom’s death they showed me who they really were and what they were all about. While my Uncle clearly showed me that he had no use for me, my aunt Bea was still going with the charade. I didn’t see it until two days later but she sent me a text the morning my mom died that read, “[my name], I am so sorry 💜 at the same time I was glad to know that you were with your Mom during her final hours. I KNOW she felt true comfort in you being there and I prayed for her to leave us peacefully with you by her side. She told us all how good you made her feel. God bless you 💜”

When I finally did see it, I never responded to her because I know she was totally full of shit. She was just one of 100’s of text messages I received that day. If she supported her husband and his decision not to so much as express his sorrows to me, she could go fuck herself too. I almost have more respect for him than I do for her. At least he treated me how he truly felt. They made me feel completely uncomfortable in an already extremely uncomfortable situation and that is something I will never forget. They made it very clear to me, as they sat right next to my brother and his wife at the wake, that they were 100% behind them and not me. I came to find out at that time, words from my brothers own mouth that my Uncle Bob was the one advising him while my mom was in the hospital that whole month. I had a feeling that was the case. My gut told me that ever since the day I saw them having that private conversation near the elevators. That only made me hate them more. They were the reason my brother and his wife were harassing my mom in her final days, to get her affairs, that were already in order, in an order that THEY would be happy with. I fucking hate those assholes. 
I was so overwhelmed at the wake. I felt like a zombie. I hadn’t really slept in days. I didn’t even know what to say to people when they came up to me with their sad faces. It was too much to handle. We got back to my mom’s house after the first viewing and everyone stuffed their faces. My brother, his wife, my Aunt Bea and Uncle Bob sat in the living room and none of them lifted a finger to help. I so badly wanted to kick their asses out of the house but I composed myself. As I knew, my aunts would be in my mom’s bedroom. I brought my grandmother in there and asked her if she wanted my mom’s bed. I knew she probably was sleeping on the same mattress she had since my grandfather was alive in the 90’s. My aunt’s seemed thrilled at the idea. I didn’t think it would be a problem with my

Brother. I didn’t think he and his wife would want to sleep in my mom’s bed themselves. 
At some point during the time at my mom’s house Satan pulled my husband to the side and told him that she had been making phone calls. She called the oil company and told them to continue oil deliveries at my mom’s house and she cancelled the newspaper service. When my husband told me I of course was pissed. That was not her place to do so and especially without consulting with me first. I was even more pissed at my brother for allowing it. I also noticed her and my brother were in my old bedroom. The same room where the safe was that I had caught them sneaking into. I walked in there with my cousin Nikki afterwards and as we were in there reminiscing about my teen years I noticed this white folder sitting on top of a basket that my mom had some old bills in. The folder was not there the day prior. I grabbed the folder and slipped it under my jacket. My cousin, my husband and I went outside to go ask the neighbors if they wanted food. We stopped at my husband’s car to look at the folder. Sure enough it was the contract for my mom’s annuity that named me and my brother as beneficiaries. Obviously my brother and Satan left it in that room, near all their belongings probably with the plan to take it with them when they left. They were all over the money. My mom’s body hadn’t even gone cold. 
We returned to the funeral home and the night viewing was ten times more overwhelming than the day one. I saw faces I hadn’t seen in years. My mom worked at Kmart for 20 years prior to getting a job with my Aunt, the year after my dad passed. A lot of her co-workers from there and her current job came. I was meeting some people for the first time and seeing people that I had known my whole life. 
Donna, my brother’s ex-fiancé also came that night. She was very upset to lose her friend. Donna had also never met Satan before. She had only seen her in pictures. I think it’s expected at anyone’s wake that people from your past are going to show up. Friends of mine that I haven’t seen or talked to in years came to pay their respects because at one point in life, we shared a bond and they wanted to do the right thing. I know if my ex-boyfriend was still alive he would’ve came as well. Him and I broke up a year prior to my dad’s passing and he showed up at my dad’s wake to pay his respects. We didn’t leave off on the best of terms but he still showed up. 
I was in the back corner of the room talking to a group of my mom’s friends from Kmart when Donna came walking up in a huff. She was talking a little loudly and was obviously very upset about something. She told us what had happened just moments before, only a few feet away from my mom’s coffin. Obviously her and her husband wanted to pay their respects to my brother and so Donna saw an opportune time where my brother was standing alone and Satan was distracted talking to her girlfriend. She walked up to my brother and as soon as she did so, Satan came flying over like a dart and hooked her arm around my brothers arm. Donna asked if she could speak with my brother privately for a moment so she could express her daughter, his ex-fiancé’s sorrow and let him know that she was sorry she couldn’t come. Satan snapped at her and told her she was being very rude and so Donna snapped back and told Satan she was the rude one and a minor argument ensued. My brother told Donna he had to respect his wife and they walked away. Donna was really fired up and talking really loudly and I tried to calm her down. She was cursing Satan and saying how much she hurt my mom and how she didn’t deserve to be there. While I emphatically agreed with everything she was saying, I didn’t feel it was the time or place. I kept trying to calm her and eventually I politely excused myself from the situation. 
It was about a half hour or so before the night ended and my cousin Nikki came up to me and informed me that my brother and Satan had left to go pick up their kid. Her along with a few others thought it was incredibly wrong of them both to leave before the viewing was over. My husband and I took separate cars for that very reason. I was not going to leave my moms wake until everyone else did. 
I went outside to get some fresh air and saw Donna’s husband out there smoking a cigar. I could tell he was very upset. I wanted to thank him for making all the food for us. He included a lot of extras that I didn’t order. He told me that when my brother was leaving he tried to go up and express his sorrow and my brother completely sniffed him. He asked what he personally did to be treated like that? He was always kind to my brother and treated him with respect. They had a very good relationship when my brother was with his ex. They went to baseball games together and hung out. I could tell it really affected him that my brother was so rude to him and donna. I felt terrible. That wasn’t the way we were raised. 
I went home that night completely exhausted. I saw my mom’s phone sitting on the counter and I picked it up and started to look through it. As I was looking, I noticed an email notification pop up on the top of the screen. I went to the email. It was an alert from one of the companies that she had mutual funds with. It said that someone had changed the primary email on the account. I took a screen shot of it and sent it to my phone. I knew I wasn’t the person who had made any changes to any of her accounts. The only people it could’ve been was my brother and Satan. I knew they had her phone that second last day in the hospital. Satan called me from it that morning. Later that day my mom’s friend text me to ask me what was going on with with my mom. She told me that she had called my mom’s phone that evening and Satan answered the phone but she didn’t understand what she was saying. I went into my mom’s call logs and on that very day I see a missed call from my brother at 5:48pm. Three minutes later, theres a missed call from my uncle Bob at 5:51pm. A half hour later was when my mom’s friend called and Satan answered. Obviously this told me what was going on. My brother and my Uncle Bob were looking for my mom’s phone and for what reason, I don’t know. They weren’t calling my mom to chat. She was obviously incapacitated and couldn’t answer. Besides that, they were both up at the hospital. There was no need to be calling her phone except to look for it and obviously it was handed off to Satan at some point. They were obviously fishing and snooping around for something. Perhaps they were looking for user names and passwords to her bank accounts and such. 
I will never know what they were up to but I knew they weren’t going to get away with them. I woke my husband up and showed him what I found. The next morning, I was going to confront them.
(To be continued in my next post). 

The day after….

I my husband let me sleep in a little the next morning. I needed it but I had so much shit to do. I had to be up at the funeral home by 12:00pm to give them the outfit for my mom. On the way home the night before I stopped at Walmart to try to print some pictures but by time I got there the machines were closed, so I had to add that to my list of things to do that Monday. I had to stop somewhere on the way to the funeral home to get root touch up spray. I dyed my mom’s hair between her August hospital stay and this last one but her roots started to come back and I knew she’d be mortified if she had to be in front of everyone with her grey roots. 
That morning my brother called up my husband while I was still sleeping. I found it odd that they were doing all the communicating through my husband. I believe they thought my husband was easy to manipulate. They were trying to kiss ass telling my husband I could take my mom’s car, as if they had some type of authority. They also told my husband that my mom’s life insurance policy had lapsed and that it looked like they were going to have to move money out of some money market accounts to pay the funeral home. My husband said it sounded like they were talking about their own money market accounts but he wasn’t sure. My brother also informed him that there would be no money to pay for food or the restaurant to go to between viewings. 
I did not have the money to lay out for the restaurant or the food. At the time my husband and I were barely making it by. I was a stay at home mom and we lived exclusively off his paycheck. I called my brother and ultimately decided to use my mom’s house only because my house was a freaking mess. I hadn’t been home in over a month. I didn’t have time to get it together. My mom’s house was actually clean. She was in the hospital for about four days and my brother and Satan told me I had to let the cleaning lady in. She had just been there the week prior and my mom wasn’t home for half that week and the house really didn’t need the cleaning. I think it was an attempt at them keeping me away from the hospital. The cleaning lady was conveniently coming during the same time my brother had his lunch break at work. I let the cleaning lady in and left. I wasn’t going to sit there while she cleaned. Although I felt weird using my mom’s house, I felt like I had no choice. I told my brother I would call a friend to see if he could cater. That friend just happened to be his ex-fiancé’s step dad who was part owner of a local pizzeria/ restaurant, that I still went to. I knew he’d be more than happy to help. My brother was ok with the idea.  
I made it to the funeral home and oddly enough my brother and Satan were sitting in the lobby when I got there. They had an envelope of pictures. I told my brother I was the one doing the photos and he handed them to me and told me they were photos of my mom and his daughter. When I got out to my car I opened the envelope. There was exactly one photo of my mom with his daughter. The rest were pictures from his wedding. I looked at my mom’s face in the photos and you could see her misery through the fake smile she managed to crack. It just got me angry all over again. That was the day that started it all. The day my mom crossed the line from mildly depressed to severely depressed. That day caused her so much misery. I also found it sad that they only had pictures of her at their wedding back in 2014 and no other photos until their daughter was born and christened over a year and a half later. 
My brother also informed me that they were going to the florist to order the flowers. I had to go get my mom’s truck because the brakes on my car were literally grinding, and it was unsafe to drive my car. They started grinding the third to last day that my mom was in the hospital, but obviously I had no time to get them to a mechanic. I also needed her truck to transport the picture boards to the funeral home the next day. I called my brother and told him that I was borrowing the truck and he was fine with it. 
He and his wife went to my mom’s house after the funeral home. I had to run back home because I forgot to give them something at the funeral home. He called me from my mom’s house and asked if I needed them to do anything. I told him to pull out the dining room table and put the leaf extension in it so I could set up the food on it. I wondered why they were even there. Aside from that what else did they need to go there for? At that point in time I had realized that my brother and his wife had been to my mom’s more in those few weeks than they had been in the last three years, in total. How can I not find that strange? They never went there to visit her or help her when she was home but starting the week she went into the hospital, they were there on a near daily basis. 
I got to my mom’s house a little after they left. Because her car was sitting there for an entire month, not being driven, her battery had gone completely dead. I had to jump start her car so I could use it. It took me over an hour to get it up and running. When I was finished I had to go inside and set up the table with all the sterno trays for the food. That’s when I realized, we had nothing to serve the food on. That meant I had to add another stop in my already busy day. Thankfully my mom’s neighbor, who was caring for her dogs, pressed the table cloth for me. She was a huge help. I didn’t know that neighbor all that well prior to my mom being sick. They had moved in only a year or so before I moved out and they kept to themselves. I got to know her as my mom got sick and realized what an amazing person she was and how much stuff we actually had in common. She was a HUGE help to me in the months leading up to my mom’s death. I can’t even thank her enough. She has become a very good friend and we are still in touch to this day. 
I noticed while I was at my mom’s that my brother and his wife had cleared off all the mail and stuff from the kitchen table. I went into her room and saw that they carelessly dumped it on the dresser. I knew my aunts and my grandma would want to see my mom’s room and that everyone would be putting their coats on her bed. That was what we always did at family parties. I moved all the mail and threw it in a spare bedroom that I knew no one would look in. 
I left my mom’s house around 5:30-6:00. My next stop was the mall to get my husband a sports coat, a shirt and pants to wear to the wake. He had gained a little weight and didn’t have any other dress clothes to wear. I didn’t either, and so I also tried to see if they had something for me too. I did have a black dress on backup just in case. At my dad’s wake I wore this long black pencil skirt that had a small split up the back. When we came back to my mom’s house between the viewings one of my aunts informed me that my skirt had split all the way up to my butt! I had to take it off so she could sew it. I wasn’t going to have another incident like that! 
I didn’t leave the mall until about 9:00. I didn’t find anything for myself. My next stop was Walmart to shop for cups, plastic utensils, napkins and other supplies that we needed for the “party”. I also had to print some photos. Thankfully my cousin Nikki took out the time and sent a bunch to me and so did my mom’s cousin who lived in Florida. By the time I got there and did all my shopping it was nearing 10:00. I sat down at the photo kiosk only to realize it was shut down for the night. I was so pissed. 
I didn’t get home that night until 11:30pm. I also didn’t eat dinner until then either. I was exhausted. I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly my brother and his wife did aside from go to the florist. It seemed like I was doing everything else to prepare for the wake. I still had to put the photos on the boards. At that point all I had was the old photos I had taken from my mom’s house the night that she died. I laid them all out on the boards. I just looked down at the pictures from our family vacations, trips we took, the park, and our own backyard and I broke down and cried. I couldn’t believe I was looking at photos of the family that once existed and no longer did. My family was just a memory. I no longer had parents. I was now an adult orphan. I had no one. My brother and my relationship was so tarnished I knew there was no turning back. Even if Satan and him got divorced at this point, I don’t even know if I could forgive him for what he put my mom through, not only in the last month but in the years before she died. 
I stayed up late doing the pictures until I could no longer keep my eyes opened. I filled up two boards with all the pictures I had. I only got a few hours of sleep and the next day was her wake….
(To be continued in my next post).  

So…I got a dress.

The news of an engagement and a pending wedding should be a joyous thing for most families. It was a few weeks after the engagement, of my brother and his bride-to-be, Satan, on a Saturday morning, in late October, I had a doctors appointment. My husband was over at my mom’s house, along with my brother and of course Satan (she can’t let him go anywhere alone) helping my mom move some furniture around so she could get her wood floors refinished. My husband calls me as soon as he leaves and tells me that my brother had asked him to be the best man at his wedding. I have to admit, I thought it was a bit strange. While him and my brother had a bond, I didn’t think it was strong enough to be best man worthy. My husband said yes, regardless. He also informed me that there was absolutely no plan to have me in their wedding party. That also was a bit strange to me. Traditionally in an Italian-American family, siblings are automatically part of the bridal party. While it was a bit insulting, I was absolutely fine with not being in Satan’s bridal party. Something told me she was going to be a bridezilla. (Bridezilla was an understatement for what she actually ended up being). My husband thought it was really f*cked up on their part not to include me and he was very offended that I wasn’t asked and he was. 
A few days later my brother called me to ask me if my son could be the ring bearer. By this point in time he was only 8-9 months old. Being a concerned parent, I asked my brother what he would do if my son couldn’t walk by time his wedding rolled around and he told me that he’d have “someone” either carry him or push him in a wagon. I agreed to let my son be in the wedding party. So now everyone in my household was part of MY brother’s wedding party, except me. 
At first they were planning to have the wedding the following fall but for whatever reason they pushed it to way closer date….February of the following year which was less than four months away. Their exact date, February 14th. (*rolls eyes*). Four months is not a lot of time to prepare for a wedding but I’ve noticed a trend with Satan. Everything she does is rushed. That’s because narcissists and psychopaths have a constant need for excitement in their lives. It’s also because they don’t want to give you too much time to think. They want to lock you down before you open your eyes and you can easily escape. 
I was at the mall one day shopping and I went into one of my favorite stores. Well it’s not my favorite because the prices are a little out of my comfort zone but I always like to stop in. The store is called Bebe. It’s a young women’s fashion store, that sells clubwear, casual wear and some professional wear. I always like the dresses in there and it’s always when you don’t need one that you see one you like. I browsed around and saw a few I liked and so I went into the dressing room and tried them on. There was one in particular that I liked. It was a strapless, purplish/burgundy color satin material with black lace trim on the top and bottom. I figured it was perfect for my brother’s Valentine’s Day wedding. 
Authors note*I forgot to mention something kind of big, in this story and it just dawned on me, the day my brother informed me that he was going to propose to Satan he also shared some other rather big news with me. This wedding wasn’t her first marriage. In fact, it wasn’t her second either! The marriage to my brother was going to be her third wedding!!! Now I am not saying that everyone who has multiple marriages is messed up but coupling this along with all of the other troubling stuff I learned about Satan, it was a sure sign that something wasn’t right. My brother asked me not to share the information with my mom, not because he didn’t want to share it, but because SHE didn’t. That too, made me feel uneasy. He didn’t really know the reasons why her two previous marriages didn’t work out but the fact that she wanted to keep this secret bothered me. Was she hiding something? Was there some problems in her previous marriages she didn’t want us knowing about? What was her reason for hiding this info? Why was a woman who hasn’t reached the age of forty yet, already divorced twice with multiple failed, long term relationships in the last 5-7 years?
It was the night I purchased my dress when my brother called me up and asked me if I wanted to do a reading at the wedding. I had already known he was going to ask me. My mom said something to him about me not being in the wedding party, (even though I asked her NOT TO!!) and this was their half assed , solution to not including me. Seeing that I’m not a big fan of public speaking I politely tried to decline the offer. While we were on the phone I decided to inform my brother that I purchased a dress for his wedding. I knew I was on speaker phone and I can hear someone whispering in the background. I’m telling him how I kind of accidentally found the dress while browsing around when he cuts me off and asks me what color it is. I try to explain the color as best I can. In the store lighting it looked more purplish but when I got home it appeared more burgundy looking. I couldn’t give him a definitive answer but none the less I told him it was more in the purple family than red. He then asked me what store I got it from. I had him on speaker phone as well and my husband and I looked at one another, completely puzzled because it was a weird question, coming from my brother. I told him the store name and heard him repeating my answers. I then changed the subject and in the middle of me talking he cuts me off and asks me to describe the color of my dress AGAIN! At this point, I know my brother has absolutely ZERO interest in my dress. HE isn’t the one asking the questions, Satan is. Again my husband and I looked at one another, completely confused and so I had to jokingly ask my brother, “what are you worried we are going to wear the same dress, or something?”. 
It was about three weeks after my conversation with my brother where he was asking weird questions about my dress. Just to give you an idea of how NOT into my fashion my brother is, there was this one time we were headed to a family function. My brother and I both still lived at home with our parents at the time. I was standing in the kitchen talking to him in the dress I was wearing for the party. He left the house to go pick his ex-fiancé up to go to the party. Later on I showed up at the party and I see everyone pointing at me and laughing. I turn around to see that my brother’s girlfriend had the SAME EXACT DRESS on as me!!! This wasn’t some plain dress, it had a bold pattern and was pretty unique. The fact that he didn’t even realize it’s familiarity when he picked up his girlfriend, goes to show how much he pays attention to what I’m wearing. 
Anyway, I had thought originally his wife was concerned that my dress was going to clash with her bridesmaids dresses which were red. The way I described the color made it sound like it was a reddish color and so a few weeks later when my brother showed up at my house, completely unannounced (once again) I decided to pull the dress out and show him. He’s color blind anyway but I’d figure he’d at least be able to calm Bridezilla and tell her that my dress was not the same color as her bridesmaids. Once again, my brother was tranced into his phone texting back and forth with her. I was talking to him and once again, he wasn’t responding. He was hypnotized by his phone and so at one point I actually even said to him, “I don’t know why I’m talking to you because you’re not even paying attention.” and he didn’t even hear me say that! We were outside on my front porch. I went inside and pulled the dress out from my closet. He looked at the dress for all of about 2 seconds, said, “oh…nice.” and went back to texting Satan. That was the day that changed everything…..
To be continued in my next post. 

The dress heard round the world. (Part 5)

(Please see my previous posts so the story makes sense). 
I had showed my brother the dress I got to wear for his wedding. He showed about as much interest in it as I show when he tells me about his comic book characters. Before I go on, I have to put this all into perspective. My brother and Satan had hardly known one another for six entire months before they got engaged. I had only met Satan a handful of times. I could probably count my encounters with her one two hands. Most of those times we were at parties or other social functions and didn’t have one-on-one time with her. The few times we had one-on-one time it was her talking at me (not to me) and me just sitting there stunned that someone can talk this much but have nothing substantial to say. On top of that, this was her THIRD wedding. It was by all intents and purposes, a small wedding. The actual wedding ceremony was taking place at the same place as their reception. The guest list consisted of mainly MY family because Satan isn’t in contact with most of her family and all she has is a few “friends” and co-workers. It was a Valentine’s Day wedding (barf) because of course, what narcissist wouldn’t want to be the object of everyone’s affection on a national holiday!? I wasn’t asked to be in their bridal party and so I went out and purchased a dress as if I were just another guest at their wedding. I had just lost all my baby weight and finally felt comfortable in my skin again and wanted to wear something that flattered my body. I had every right to pick my own dress out. 
My brother left my house that day and I had called my mom to tell her all the shy he talked about her. He was complaining to me that my mom didn’t offer any money to help fund their wedding! I tried to explain to him that when I was still planning a wedding (my husband and I sort of eloped at town hall because I got pregnant while we were planning our wedding and needed his health insurance) my mom also didn’t offer any money to pay for my wedding either. I explained that “traditionally” the bride’s parents usually pay (if they can) and the grooms parents don’t contribute that much but that didn’t stop him from thinking my mom should kick in at least a couple thousand because Satan’s mom was giving them $20k or so. As you can imagine, my mom was pissed. He had already told her he thought she should be paying and now he was complaining about it to me. 
As we are talking I receive a text from him. I tell my mom to hold on so I could read it. It says, “I like that dress……but how long is it?”. Here we go again, “my brother” is all concerned about my fashion. I was STUNNED. My mom told me to write back, “I don’t know, I didn’t measure it!”. I mean it’s just ridiculous. Now it all made sense to me. Typically my brother doesn’t just show up at my house for no reason. He always has a purpose, whether it’s to ask me something or to tell me something. He never just shows up for no reason and that day, he came to see the dress. Luckily I pulled it out before he had to ask but if I didn’t pull it out that day, he eventually would’ve asked. I know it. Satan sent him here to scope it out. 
After my sarcastic reply he comes back and tells me, “I don’t know, I think it’s inappropriate…” he went on to lecture me about appropriate wedding attire for women and tell me how usually women wear dresses that are knee length. I was SHOCKED! I didn’t know when my brother became an expert in women’s wedding attire but I was seriously annoyed. I sent him a picture of me in my dress and showed him that it sat an inch above my knees. He then proceeded to tell me that it looked like lingerie and that it was inappropriate and he asked me to get a new dress. I politely tried to back him off. I told him that the dress had passed the 21 day return policy mark and that I had already spent $200 and couldn’t afford to spend more….. He kept pushing telling me he’d prefer if I wore a different dress to his wedding because I was going to be in their wedding album, insinuating that I was going to somehow ruin their photos with my “inappropriate dress”. 
After the comment about the photos I lost my shit! I will take responsibility here, I have a sharp tongue. When I get angry, hurt or offended, I sort of get verbal diarrhea! At this point in time I just had enough with his “soon-to-be wife” (that was Satan referred to herself as during their short engagement period. After they got engaged and told my mom, she showed me a photo of the engagement ring in which I had never seen. Just trying to be nice, I complimented the ring and asked him where he got it. He didn’t answer me that day. The next day he wrote back and thanked me and I asked one more time where he got it….that was it. He called my mom up and told her to tell me to stop asking questions about the ring! My mom calls me and she’s all pissy with me asking why I am prying into my brother’s personal business and why I keep asking about the ring. Apparently, it was “upsetting his soon-to-be wife”. I sent her screen shots of the two times I asked where he got it. He told me it was custom made, a tiffany’s replica and so I just wanted to know where you can get that done. That’s all! He told my mom I was trying to find out how much he paid for it. I never asked any such questions. Between that, him telling my mom she should be paying for their wedding and now my dress, we were both starting to see the writing on the wall. My brother was marrying bridezilla! 
I went off on my brother and told him straight up that I knew it wasn’t HIM that was really concerned about my dress and that if his wife wanted to control my attire she should’ve put me in her bridal party. I also told him that he sounded like a puppet and I was really upset. As he came back, still harping about me getting a new dress, I told him his wife was looking really insecure and that if she had a problem she should be the one to come to my house or call me about it instead of using him as her megaphone. I now know this is a common tactic used by narcissists and sociopaths alike, know as “triangulation”. They will pin two people against one another by way of an object or third person, therefore creating a triangle of misery! 
I got the hint Satan didn’t care much for me, long before their engagement, but she never really had a good opportunity to really offend me. There were a few small things that happened along the way that let me know, I was nearing the top of her shit list. For instance, she had made a comment once in front of my husband when we were over there helping my brother move his bed in so Satan’s daughter could sleep on it. I waited out in the car because my infant son was sleeping. She tells my brother, “oh, I have to invite your mom and your sister to my jewelry party”. She goes to hand my husband my invitation and then she says, “on second thought, she probably won’t want to come.” She never handed him or me the invitation. In fact she ended up inviting my mom but not me. We laugh about this but she we think it all started because of a pair of shoes I wore to a BBQ at her house. It was our first time attending a get together at her house, shortly after my brother moved in. I wore a flowy sundress and a pair of wedge heels. She walked us up the steps to her back balcony to the second floor of her house and she sees my shoes and asks me, “why are you wearing heels?”. My husband answered and says, “my wife always wears heels!”. She then went on to tell me that I shouldn’t be wearing them, that I was going to fall and hurt myself. She was insisting I borrow a pair of her flip flops. I politely declined by telling her my feet were a 91/2 and her flip flops probably wouldn’t fit me. It was so weird. I couldn’t figure out why she was so bothered by my footwear. 
Anyway, after her other failed attempts to piss me off, she used the dress as means to rid me from my brother’s life. I remember seeing this quote in a video on YouTube, “Narcissists hate those they cannot control”. My true belief about her is that she’s a malignant narcissist, meaning she’s a narcissist with sociopathic/psychopathic traits. MN’s, sociopaths and psychopaths have a very good read on other people. I think she realized from the second time I met her, that I could see right through her, that I was the person who would be able to expose her and somehow convince my brother that she was no good. The sooner she got rid of me the better and so she used the dress to get me and my brother in a fight. 
I told my brother that I didn’t have to be in his photos or even come to his wedding for that matter. Maybe it was a bit harsh but I wasn’t about to have to walk on eggshells with yet another one of his girlfriends. I did it for six years with his ex who at times could be a little overly sensitive, and I wasn’t about to do it for some girl that I hardly knew. 
Things got real ugly after these texts about my dress. This is when I became sincerely concerned about my brother and realized that he was really scared of his “soon-to-be wife”. I had seen little hints here and there. For instance, my brother started smoking cigarettes again after he broke up with his ex. About a month into their relationship, Satan quit smoking and expected him to quit as well. He didn’t and so every time he’d see me he’d be bumming cigarettes off me, and ducking out in the corners where she couldn’t see him. There was this one specific time I got in the car with him and he had just smoked a cigarette and was about to drop me off and head to her house. He puts his cigarette out and gets in the car. Before he starts driving, he opens his center console and starts pulling out all these things to cover up the cigarette smell. He pops a piece of gum in and bathed himself in antibacterial lotion, even rubbing some on his face. Then he pulls out some Axe body spray and is dousing himself in it. I looked at him and said, “what the hell are you doing?”. He told me he was covering up the cigarette smell so she didn’t smell it. I jokingly said, “well isn’t she going to think it’s weird that your face smells like antibacterial lotion?” We both laughed but then I seriously asked him, “what’s the big deal if you smoke?”. He answered me, “you don’t understand, she will KILL ME if she knew I was smoking.”. While there’s no question that smoking is a horrible, nasty, disgusting, disease causing habit, what’s the big deal? I didn’t understand why he couldn’t just tell her he messed up or was having trouble quitting and I expressed that him and all he said was, “you don’t understand, she will KILL ME.” That troubled me for many reasons. One being that they had just started dating. I found it a bit strange that someone would have that much control over someone that early on in the relationship. I also found it scary that my brother was afraid to expose a weakness in front of her. I got the sense that he had probably already done so and it didn’t go so well. Looking back now that was when it all started. 
To be continued in my next post.