Letting go of anger 

Winning and letting go of anger.
I won. Yes, you read it right. I WON. My whole life I have let people take advantage of me. I have backed down, I have kept my mouth shut. I have lived my life to complete the delusions of others and I am fucking done. I was brought up to respect my family, respect my elders, respect my mom, respect my grandmother and I did just that…… for my whole life. 
I did my time. I am 36 years old. I am a grown woman. I have my own family to worry about, my own child to teach…. I was living my life for everyone else’s happiness, all the while, I was ignoring my own. I sat at family parties for years, uncomfortable and upset, because I was angry that my cousin Benny was there and the cousin whom he violated and victimized, wasn’t. I sat there angry at my aunts, uncles and cousins because they chose to ignore what was really happening. I was angry with myself for not having the strength and courage to fully stand up for what I believed in. Years later, I was angry at my brother. Angry for him promising my dad he would be the “man” of the house, and then leaving me to do all the hard stuff. I was angry that he turned his back on us and refused to stand up to his wife. I was angry that he didn’t value our relationship and I felt used. I was angry that he was out enjoying his life while I watched my mom suffer mentally, Of emotionally and in the last year, physically. At times I was even angry with my mom. Angry that she allowed my brother to walk all over her, mistreat her and allow his wife to talk to her like she didn’t matter. I was angry that she was depressed. I was angry that she let him ruin her life. Angry that she couldn’t accept reality for what it was. Angry that she didn’t take care of herself. Angry that she became complicit with her health. I was so fucking angry.
At this time last year, during the last week of July, I knew it was the beginning of the end, and in more ways than one. My mom was starting to go downhill and fast, and it was also this time of year when I finally revealed to her what was going on between me and my aunts. I had never reached the level of stress, worry and anxiety that I was in, at that point in time. I just couldn’t handle anything more, not even the smallest worry or upset. It was a pivotal moment in my life because the last week of July, last year where I finally surrendered and started being true to myself. 
Satan, my brother’s wife decided to have a party for their then 1 year 4 month old baby on July 30th, the day of my mom’s birthday. She had four months and could’ve had a party for the kid on any one of those days in between but she decided to steal my mother’s last birthday. God forbid my mom have all the attention on her for an entire day. Oh no, that can’t happen. She sent invitations out without even making mention that it was also my mom’s birthday that day as well. Of course at that time no one knew my mom would be gone another four months after that, but it was pretty clear that the year prior for her was no walk in the park and that her health was on a steady decline. That’s how narcissists like Satan do things. It’s back handed and passive aggressive. It’s veiled in a nice gesture. Because for those of us who see right through people like Satan, we know how to read between the lines. Those who don’t will think it’s “sweet” because she buys my mom a small personal cake and gives her 30 seconds of attention. (and that’s exactly how much time was spent acknowledging her that day). When something fucked up is cloaked in shiny glittery rainbows, it’s hard to see the deeper meaning behind it. Satan is vindictive and she will stop at nothing to get her vindication. 
That party was the first party I was invited to since my brother moved in with her, and I know that the only reason I was invited was because Satan was not letting her “investment” (aka my mom and her assets) slip away that easy. Three years prior to that day, there was little to no relationship between Satan and my mom. I would say that about 97% of their interaction in that span of time, was them arguing and yelling at one another. Whatever shit they had in the last few months of my mom’s life was exactly that, shit. It was so phony, on both ends. My brother had threatened my a few months before her tumor was discovered that if she didn’t get on board with his wife, she wouldn’t see her grandkids. My mom wasn’t about to not love an innocent child and so she pretended so she can have some type of connection. Satan doesn’t allow full blown connections though. 
My mom was upset with me about not going to the party and trust me when I say, I felt terrible that I wasn’t going to be there on her actual birthday. It upset me to know she was going to be sad there without me, but I just needed a break. I was on the front lines with her fighting this battle against cancer since December of 2015, while my brother and his wife were off getting drunk and going to Puerto Rico. I needed a day to myself but moreso I had reached a breaking point. I no longer had the energy to put into things that weren’t making me happy and so for the first time in a really long time, I put myself first. 
Pretty much from that day forward I started to live a life that was truer to myself. I still loved and respected my mom, but my relationships with other members in my family were starting to become so toxic that my need for sanity was starting outweigh my respect. I tolerated enough for her. I put so much energy into her and trying to make her happy and I did it to the detriment of my own well being. I knew she was getting worse and there was no way I was going to be able to take care of her in the way she deserved will all of this other baggage weighing me down. I had to let go. 
That last month of her life that she spent in the hospital, that was when I really started to see things clearly. Nothing will bring the dysfunction out of your family more than dealing with losing one of its members. I tried one last time for her and it blew up in my face. While it was the most confusing, emotionally taxing and horrifying rollercoaster ride of my life, and I felt like I couldn’t tell up from down, at the same time, I never saw things more clearly in my life. My aunts showed me what kind of people they were and what was important to them. My brother and his wife made it clear that the only thing they were interested in was there inheritance. My mom was secondary. While some of the people in my life feel sorry for me that my family is “mistreating” me and not being supportive, I am thanking god. It was a gift. He showed me the light. He set me free. I no longer have to tip toe around and worry about hurting anyone’s feelings. I don’t have to feel anxiety. I don’t have to be angry with them. I can live my life and be free. I can feel the way I want to feel without being judged and ridiculed. I realized that it doesn’t matter how much good I’ve done in my life and how much I was there for them. I can be an amazing person 99% of the time, but with my family, that 1% that you fuck up is going to override the other 99% of good. That fuck up is going to be your defining factor. Because I stood up for myself, I became the villain? 
After my mom passed and I got into a huge fight with my aunt Debbie where she said all this horrible shit to me, and then my objecting to my mom’s will and them being executors, I was just counting down the days until I could finally expose them and tell the world what frauds they were. I will admit, I had plans to destroy their lives and reputations. I thought of everything from making a video and exposing every detail on Facebook for all their friends,family and coworkers to see. I wanted to go all out. I mean I have stuff on them that can make them look like the biggest assholes possible. Especially my aunt Debbie. I wanted to share it with the world. I was so fucking angry. 

Since I was a kid, my worst fear was losing my mom and for the entire year of 2016, I was living my worst fear and they did nothing but make it even worse than it already was. How do you fuck with someone at a time like that? How could my aunt Bea and Uncle Bob use the death of my mother as means to get back at me for exposing their child molester son? How does my Aunt Debbie tell me I made my mom miserable and I didn’t let her die with “peace in her heart”, knowing that I was the only one that was always there for her, that she could always count on? There was a time when me and her had a great relationship. I confided in her and she confided in me. We would spend hours on the phone talking about my mom and how depressed she was, how fucked up my brother was and Aunt Debbie would tell me how lucky my mom was to have me. Now all of the sudden I ruined her life? It doesn’t make sense. 
 I spent the last 8 months of my life quietly and patiently waiting for this day to come, and trust me, in this last 8 months they tried so, so, so, so hard to get me to come out. I kept ignoring. In the past, I overshared my feelings. If something was bothering me, I had to tell everyone I knew about it. Back in July of last year, I went completely silent. I fell off the grid, so to speak. I completely stopped sharing with everyone in my family. I stopped reacting to their shit. I continued to keep my eyes focused on the prize, being there for my mom. I used my husband as an outlet. After my mom died, I started to use this blog as my outlet. It’s anonymous. The chances of them finding it are very small. Even if they do, they cannot prove it’s about them. 
After all the deflection, the denial, the, manufacturing of lies, the shit talking, the hate campaigning, bullying and intimidating, I couldn’t wait to have my day, but as time went on……….something magical happened. Me not talking to them or about them and reacting to them gave me better results. The less I responded the more angry they got. The more angry they got, the harder they tried to pull me out. Since they couldn’t reach me directly, they started to try different means of getting to me. They started to get other people involved, and by doing so, they made themselves look like hateful and heartless assholes. I didn’t need to expose them. They exposed themselves. The other members in my family who weren’t involved finally opened their eyes and they wanted no part of it, and so in turn, they distanced themselves. People have their number. A few other family members even decided to erase them of social media and it was reasons that had nothing to do with my situation. 
Here I am 8 months later and the need for revenge and the anger has dissipated. Through self reflection, therapy and lots of thinking, I have realized that it isn’t even worth my time. People like my aunts and Satan, they live their lives for this shit. They love causing chaos and they are looking for fights. The more you come back at them, you are just feeding them more fuel to continue doing what their doing. You are empowering them and giving them more ammunition and supply. You are breathing life into them. You are giving them a topic to discuss with their friends and family at the dinner table. You are letting them control your life. Fear = control. 
In order to want to hurt someone like that there has to be a level of care there. Wanting the person to know how they hurt you is you telling them that they are important enough to care what they think. I don’t give a flying fuck anymore what they think. I don’t want them to even get the slightest in I give a shit or that I am sweating them in any way. I have reached the point where I have no problem in them because I don’t care about them anymore. Their opinions of me mean nothing. I care more what a rock thinks of me than what they think.
Does it still hurt sometimes? Yes Does that feeling to hurt them the way they hurt me, still creep up from time to time? Yes. I wouldn’t be human if it didn’t cross my mind here and there. There are some days I want to drive my car to their houses and give them all a baseball bat to the face but at the end of the day, none of them is worth my freedom, my time or my energy. I will not give them the freedom that they so desperately crave. Not gonna happen. 
Today I went to my lawyer’s office and I signed my oath to be executor of my mom’s estate. I fought long and hard for this. I won. My mom would be proud. I know she would be. I miss her so much. 

Say cheese!  🧀 

Say Cheese! 🧀 
I was telling someone the story today about what my brother and his succubus of a wife, Satan and what they put me and my mom through during the last month of my mom’s life, while she was in the hospital. I didn’t share the story with many, as it was not going to make any differences, nor would it help me in any way. After telling the story again, it hit me again and I realized how truly and deeply fucked up it was. It showed me how truly twisted Satan was. Now that I’ve had seven months to reflect, I feel as if I’m looking at the world with a different set of eyes. My vision is no longer being clouded by my anger. I have had time to process, rationalize and gain clarity. I am still angry, but I’m not seething. I’m able to put my anger aside and really think of what was going on. 
If you didn’t read my previous post about the camera, I will explain it here. My mom was in the hospital for about two weeks, dying of stage 4 kidney cancer. One day while I was up at the hospital, my mom randomly comes out and tells me that Satan told her she won this thing called the Nest. It’s a thermostat that you can control from any smartphone, when you are away from home. Not only did Satan win this hi-tech thermostat, it also came with an accompanied security camera. If that’s not amazing enough Satan was feeling generous that day and decided she wanted to GIVE her prize to my mom, because she didn’t need it. My mom told me she thought it was strange and that she didn’t want a camera in her house. I couldn’t have agreed more. It was extremely strange. First off, what type of “contest” did she enter that was giving away hi-tech thermostats? Secondly, why would Satan just want to gift my mom, whom she wasn’t even that close with, $450 worth of stuff, for no reason? It was extremely weird. 
Because Satan is a sociopathic narcissist, I take everything she says with a grain of salt. As we know, they went to my mom’s house one Saturday afternoon under the pretense that they were going to put the covers on her A/C wall units. The neighbor texted me that day and told me that my brother and Satan were at the house and they brought a friend along. I went there to confront them. Remember, these are 2 people who NEVER came to my mom’s house to do anything for her and all of the sudden, that she’s in the hospital in severely bad shape, they want to help. Once I got there they were gone and that was when I discovered the camera, sitting atop my piano, in my mom’s living room, with the trained on my old bedroom where my mom kept her safe. 
Re-telling this story made me angry about it all over again because when I thought about how they manipulated my mom, I realized how truly evil it all was. As I said, my mom was in really bad shape at that point in time and it was beyond clear to anyone who saw her. She had lost the ability to walk and control her bowels and bladder. They put her on oxygen because she was having trouble breathing from her severe anemia. To make matters worse, her transplanted kidney failed after 25 years and she needed to start on dialysis treatments again. Worst of all was we know knew that her cancer had spread beyond the kidney where it originated, via her lymphatic system. It was everywhere, in her lungs, her stomach and even on her tailbone and a bone in her leg. The prognosis was grim at best and it was becoming clear that she was rapidly declining and death was coming. During that time the doctor also spoke to me and told me that my mom was terminally ill and that they were suggesting she go on hospice. She had enough shit to worry about. She didn’t need a fucking camera in her house or a new thermostat. She needed her son to be there and to stop harassing her about getting her affairs in order.
The fact that Satan completely mislead her, is what I find the most disturbing. The way she presented it to my mom was that she won the thermostat in a contest and didn’t need it. She used the thermostat as her selling point, and the camera was secondary, kind of an added on bonus. When I discovered the camera; I checked the wall and sure enough her old dial thermostat was still there. Not only was the thermostat not installed, they didn’t even bring it wit them. The box for the thermostat was tucked away in a spare bedroom that she used as an office. When they went there to set up the camera, they didn’t tell my mom until afterwards. 
I had to fix my mom’s iPad one day because their stupid Nest app froze it. I brought it home and once I got it back up and running, I was able to get into the nest app. The app is a paid service. You must pay a monthly fee to be able to view and save your videos. The account was under my brother’s name and my mom was added as a guest of his, which meant he had full access to the camera. He proved that he would be checking up on it because later that night he went to my mom’s house (for the second time that day); and discovered the camera was missing, and so he text me asking why I took the camera that he GAVE to mom. If he was really giving it to her for any good reason, he would’ve let her sign up for her own account. They proved that they were just lending it to her until she died by threatening to bring me and my husband to court and sue us over it. 
I think what pisses me off the most was the intent. To this day I don’t know the exact reason why they planted the camera. What haunts me is wondering what reason they gave her for putting the camera in her house? She never told me, which leads me to believe it’s probably some bullshit lie they made up about me. I was completely confused while all of this shit was happening. I had asked my mom several times why they put the camera in there and she couldn’t even answer my question. At that point in time I really felt like there was NO ONE I could trust. Even my own mother. I started to think that maybe she was in on something with them. Maybe she was hiding something from me. Maybe she was falling for their fake care and concern for her. It just wasn’t making sense. 
In retrospect, I believe they put that camera in there to control me. They wanted me to know Things are starting to come together now and make sense. My brother told me and my husband at the funeral parlor, that my Uncle Bob had been advising him the whole entire time. A few days prior to that during an argument between him and I, he told me that he knew I was “trying to get [my mom] to write him out of her will.”. While that wasn’t even true, it could’ve only came from one source, Aunt Bea and Uncle Bob. Prior to the last few weeks of my mom’s hospital stay, Aunt Bea and Uncle Bob were pretty much the only family members that were friendly with my brother and his wife. Them telling my brother and Satan that was what ignited the fire under their asses to make sure he got his half of her estate. My brother is also an asshole for even believing my mother would EVER do anything like that. He and his wife verbally abused her me disrespected her for three years straight. They sent her into a horrible downward spiral and gave her horrible anxiety and depression, and look, my mom was STILL willing to have a relationship with them. My mom would never do something like that and my brother should’ve known better. Him believing it was because of his own guilt that he unquestionably carries with him for hurting her so badly. 
I do not think I could ever forgive my brother for what he put my mom through in the last month of her life. She deserved better. She deserved to die in a peaceful, stress free, drama free environment. For years I blamed Satan but at the end, my brother is just as much responsible as she is. He didn’t have to go along with her crazy plans but he did. I think the camera is a testament to the evilness of narcissists . It shows how they will stop at NOTHING to win. Satan is probably so used to getting her way. Her scare tactics and manipulations probably work on other people but they do not work on me. She has met her match. 

Now hiring, new family scapegoat. 

I’ve always felt different than a lot of the women in my family. I attribute that to my mom because she had grown up with three sisters and always felt like the black sheep. I was a tom boy as a kid and preferred hanging out with my brother and my cousin Benny at family parties over my female cousins. It wasn’t until recently that I realized i didn’t just feel different, I was different. I just have a different way of seeing things and viewing the world. It doesn’t mean I’m better than them, it just means I am different. 

Back in 2005 when the story came out that my older cousin Benny (who was in his late 20’s) had been sexually molesting one of our younger female cousins, I have felt tension between me and many members of my family, especially my Aunt Bea and Uncle Bob, Benny’s parents I think they blamed me for the embarrassment their family suffered as a result of the story coming to light. 
I was 24 at the time when the victim came to me and told me what was going on. That was an incredibly powerful secret and I was forced to make one of the most difficult decisions in my life. Either I tell her secret or risk more girls in the family being victimized. I really didn’t know how to handle the situation and so I reached out to get opinions from the people I trusted the most. Unfortunately they also lacked the know-how when it came to handling these types of situations and so they reached out to others for the same exact reason. Before you knew it, the whole family was involved in this crisis. 
When you have a really close extended family like the one I had, it’s hard to keep secrets. Growing up, I hid a lot from my mom because I knew my mom was always going to tell everyone what happened. My aunts and uncles always preached forgiveness, unconditional love and loyalty to the family, but those things go out the window, when something like his happens. Before I told anyone, I knew the magnitude of secret like this could potentially ruin the family. Naively, I believed it could be settled within the confines of our own family. Unfortunately this wasn’t the case.
I was not happy with the way things turned out. Not only was my cousin victimized she lost her entire family. The situation became something completely different than what it actually was. It became about who’s liked more and who does more for who. The fact that a little girl was victimized got completely lost in all the bullshit. I felt different than most of my family and when the topic came up, I had no problems discussing how I felt, even of how I felt was not how everyone else felt. The only ones who saw eve to eye on my was my Aunt Dana and her husband. 

That situation changed so much about me, but what’s more is it changed the way I looked at my family and likewise for them.
No one has ever exactly said that they blame me or are angry with me, but they also didn’t say they weren’t. All I knew was after that day, the way I was treated by certain members of my family was different. I earned a reputation as a big mouth because I wasn’t afraid to share my feelings and how wrong I thought it was that the victim was being re-victimized, time and time again, by the rest of her family. They blamed EVERYTHING on my Aunt Annie; the victim’s mother. It was all HER fault. Similar to what happened to me in the last year, my aunt was dealing with an extremely emotional and traumatic situation and my aunts overstepped their boundaries, causing my aunt Annie to lash out at them. Once my aunt Annie lashed out, that was it. It was all over. No one tried to call her and reason with her. No one apologized to her for being insensitive. Instead, they lit the torches up and grabbed the pitchforks. 
I am completely convinced that my Aunt Bea is a narcissist and my Aunt Debbie is one of her flying monkeys. They did the same thing to me that they did to my Aunt Annie. They intrusively overstepped boundaries and didn’t respect me, during a time I was going through the most emotionally devastating thing in my life. I said some words, I spit some truth at them, and it bruised their fragile little egos and because I didn’t apologize or kiss their asses, I became the bad guy. I am now the family scapegoat and EVERYTHING that goes wrong in their lives, is MY FAULT. 
I want to share with you guys some of the shit I have been blamed for in the last few months. From what I’ve read, this is typical in families where personality disorders exist. This is all stuff I’ve heard from other family members and most of it came from my aunt Bea. Although I have not interacted with them in slightly over a year, they are still blaming me for everything. . Their avoidance of talking to me and/or dealing with me is because they have guilt about things. Instead of facing their own guilt and shortcomings, they deflect everything on me.
Aunt Bea claims I robbed her of “precious moments” with my mom and she is angry with me for “leaving the hospital room” when her and my Aunt Debbie came to visit mom. 
This is just total and utter bullshit. I didn’t rob her of anything. I was not up at the hospital 24/7. There was plenty of time that she could’ve jumped in her car and drove out here by herself to spend quality, alone time with my mom. My aunt Bea cannot function without her husband and will only drive locally by herself. Anything out of the 5 mile radius of her town, she needs my uncle Bob to drive her. She could’ve driven herself to my mom’s house at anytime when she was home and spent the day with her but she always had to wait for my uncle. That is NOT my fault. The same goes for Aunt Debbie. She hardly made it to see my mom in the hospital. She would come once or twice a week at the same time as Aunt Bea. To. E honest, I was seriously shocked that she wasn’t there way more. Aunt Debbie is a very independent woman. She was a single mother for years and ran a household and worked a full-time job. 
As far as me leaving the hospital room while she was there…..I made a very conscious decision to do that and there were various reasons why. For starters there was tension there and my mom was already aware of the tension. For her sake, I felt it was better if I left so that she didn’t have to feel uncomfortable. I also didn’t want to be blamed for breathing down anyone’s neck and/or not allowing them time with my mom. They deserved private time with her too. Also, although I wasn’t there 24/7 I did spend the majority of my time there and so it was nice to get a break when someone else came to keep her company. I knew I was going to be blamed for something either way and so I went with the route that made ME the most comfortable. She only has herself to blame if she didn’t get enough time with my mom. She told my husband that she’d be at the hospital more, but she had to go home and feed her dogs. She has a grown adult daughter and son-in-law, living in an apartment adjacent to her house. I’m

Sure they could’ve filled in here and there and fed her dogs. It’s a sad excuse and while sometimes I like animals better than I like people, her and my mom supposedly were the closest of all the sisters. 
I am also blamed for my mom being angry with both her and my Aunt Debbie. Again, this is just total bullshit. My mom had been angry with my Aunt Bea since before she even knew she had cancer and it was because of the way Aunt Bea spoke to her and how Aunt Bea completely disregarded her feelings. When my mom died I found several argumentative messages between them. This all started with Aunt Bea being friends with my brother’s wife, who I call, Satan whom my mom and I were not getting along with. on Facebook. My mom felt like Aunt Bea wasn’t being supportive of her. Satan unfriended my mom on Facebook way back in the very beginning around the time my brother and her got married. My mom felt it was wrong of Aunt Bea to be friends with Satan on Facebook and to be complimenting her by commenting her on all her photos. Aunt Bea was well aware of all the fighting and disrespectfulness Satan showed towards my mom. My mom felt like my aunt B was sending a message to Satan that she thought my mom was an asshole too. Aunt B was made aware by several people, several times that what she was doing was upsetting my mom but she continued to do it. She had a choice to stop. She he had a choice to support her sister but she chose not to. To make matters worse she got in several arguments with my mom both on the phone and via Facebook messages. My mom would hang up with her and call me to complain about how Aunt Bea would make her feel like she was a horrible mother for being angry with her son. 
Probably one of the most ridiculous reasons that they are upset with me for, is because supposedly I upset my mother. Apparently my mom “complained” about me to them. Whatever it was, it was just a mother venting. We were so close that we were bound to get on one another’s nerves, and guess what? I complained about her too. It is called life. If I had to take a guess at what she was talking about, I would have to say it was all this bullshit with my brother. Im not going to lie, as hard as I tried to keep it out of her hospital room there were days it was obviously taking a toll on me and I brought it into her room. I was always real with my mom and so it was hard not to discuss those things. My mom didn’t want to deal with it. She didn’t want to deal with anything…her cancer, her kidney failure and me and my brother being estranged. She didn’t want to hear the very legitimate reasons I had because she wanted to die thinking we’d be ok and we’d be there for one another. Regardless of what my mom complained about, I know what I did and didn’t do to her. There’s nothing that she could’ve said about me that could excuse them or justify the way they’ve been treating me 
For a long time I started to think that maybe something was wrong with me. Maybe I was a horrible person. Maybe I was this animal who was going around starting shit with people for no good reason. It took me a very long time to come to the place where I am now, and where I am now is that I know I am not 100% to blame. I do bear responsibility and mostly for the way I reacted to things. In some cases I may have over reacted. I don’t want to make excuses but the reality was, I was dealing with the overwhelming stress of watching my mother die a slow and painful death. My mind wasn’t right. The fact that my aunts have absolutely no compassion for that is beyond appalling.
They can no longer blame my aunt Annie for the breakdown and deterioration of the family. She hasn’t been around in over a decade. Naturally someone had to step into her place as the new family scapegoat. They can keep pointing the blame on me for as long as they want because I truly believe in and one day the universe will get them back worse than I ever could.

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. 

So….how long does she have? 

My mom ended up spending almost an entire month in the hospital. I brought her in on Aug 1st and she was discharged Aug. 28th. It was one of the longest months of my life. I picked her up from the hospital sometime in the afternoon. I knew from this point on I was going to have to be vigilant about helping her with her day to day tasks.
This hospital stay brought with it a lot of bad news. One being that her cancer had spread to her stomach. The other being that her kidney function, of her transplanted kidney was not doing so good and that she would inevitably end up on dialysis in the near future. In fact before she left the hospital the doctors decided it would be best to do a fistula in her arm. A fistula is when they connect a large vein to an artery so a patient can receive dialysis through it. If you’re not familiar with dialysis, it’s a life saving “treatment” for people with chronic kidney failure. Basically you are connected to a machine by two (very large) needles. Your blood exits your body through one needle and gets cycled through a machine (dialysis machine) where it’s filtered, sometimes nutrients are added and then it’s cycled back into your body by the other needle. While it’s a life saving treatment, it’s not a permanent solution. Your quality of life suffers as you must be tethered to this machine for four hours at a time, usually 3 times a week. When my mom did it back in the early 90’s when her kidneys originally failed, she also worked a full time job. It takes a lot out of you. You also must follow a very strict diet. It’s not fun and my mom was dreading it. 
I picked my mom up in the late afternoon that day. Before we went home, she asked if I could stop at the pharmacy to pick up the laundry list of medications she was prescribed. We drove to Kmart where also used to work. I asked if she wanted to wait in the car with my son but she told me no. She wanted to come in and see some of her old co-workers. Oddly enough she kept complaining about this pain in her butt that also went into her leg. I asked her if she had mentioned it to the nurses or doctors before she was discharged and she told me that they said it could be from being in the hospital bed for so long and that it should subside shortly. 
She was leaning on the shopping cart all the way through the store and she kept asking me to stop every so often so she could sit down and rest. Something wasn’t right. It took us over an hour and a half to do a complete circle around the store and it was worrying me. Everyday when I came up to the hospital, I encouraged her to do a few laps around the hallways with me and I didn’t recall her complaining about the pain although thinking back, I do recall her complaining a little about numbness in her butt cheek. We got her prescriptions and headed back to her house where I cleaned out her fridge which still had food in it from before she went into the hospital. She made me a list and I ran to the grocery store to grab some stuff so she’d have things to eat. I also grabbed her a slice of pizza and helped her get settled in for the night. I was really worried now about her being alone. 
Over the next two weeks the pain started to get worse. She did a search and diagnosed herself through doctor google with a bad case of sciatica. It was time to see the oncologist to talk about a treatment for her cancer. She had already seen one oncologist and went for her followup scans and this time we were seeing a different one who was affiliated with the hospital she had just stayed at which was much closer to where we lived. In fact it’s only 4 miles from my house. 
I was the one taking her to all her follow up visits but my brother asked to tag along to see the oncologist. It was the first doctor visit he had attended since he brought her for the second opinion back in the late winter. Since his job was right across the street from the hospital, I drove her there and he met up with us later on. We got into the office and the doctor started explaining how he wanted to try a medication that was fairly new to the market that was made to target her specific type of cancer. My brother started asking a lot of questions. Most of them were good but most them were questions that had he been an active participant in her healthcare, he would’ve already knew the answers to. My mom mentioned the pain in her butt and leg and the doctor prescribed her a fentanyl patch to take along with pain killers she already was on. 
We were wrapping up the appointment and waiting on the nurse to bring in a kit that gave us information about the chemotherapy drugs my mom was going to be taking when the doctor asked if we had anymore questions. My brother who was on his phone for most of the visit blurts out, “so, like how long does she have to live?”. Immediately my mom and I swung our heads around and looked at one another with these shocked looks. I couldn’t believe my brother would ask such a blunt question. I watched my mom’s eyes rapidly fill up with water and before the doctor could answer I screamed out, “Why would you even ask such a thing!?”. There was an awkward silence as in the room as I watched tears roll down my mom’s face. I turned to the doctor and told him, “She clearly doesn’t want to know that…” and I asked him to please not answer the question. My brother tried to back peddle by saying, “well, what’s the prognosis?”. I looked back over at my mom who was still shaking her head in disbelief and trying to choke back her tears. The doctor cut in with a very professional answer. He explained to my brother that he doesn’t like to give his patients expirations dates. That each person’s body is different and that it was all dependent on various factors. I was relieved to hear the doctors explanation but I was so angry with my brother. How could he ask that kind of question right in front of her? 
There was an obvious tension throughout the rest of the doctors visit. My brother kept his mouth shut and his eyes glued to his phone until the nurse came back in with some literature on the medication. My brother asked my mom if he could see it and he scanned it into this document scanner app that he had on his phone. When my mom asked what he was doing he explained to her that he was keeping track of all of her medical documents in his phone. My mom again shot me a puzzled look probably wondering like I was, how he had access to any of her medical documents prior to this visit. I didn’t want to say, but he probably found them while he and his wife were snooping through my mom’s mail and personal paperwork at her house. 
A week or so later we learned that my mom’s insurance had rejected coverage of the medication that she was supposed to get and so the doctor decided to try a different medication. Now it would be another few weeks before my mom received the next medication. In the meanwhile her pain was getting worse. She had started the 12mg fentanyl patch and it didn’t seem to be giving her any relief. I asked a friend of mine who was a nurse and she told me that she needed to give it a few days to work through her system. A few days passed and the patch still wasn’t helping and so I put in a call to the oncologists office and was told by the nurse that my mom had to take the pain pills in conjunction with the patch, which she wasn’t doing. Once she started doing that she got some relief. 
It was now mid September. My mom and all her sisters and brothers had planned a big party for my grandmother who was turning 90. Aunt Bea of course was the one in charge. Earlier in the summer she had sent out “save the date” invites on Facebook. I received that one but I wasn’t on the list for the actual invite, for some reason. She sent it to my husband, but not me. I really didn’t want to go. By this point in time I had not spoken to Aunt Bea, Aunt Debbie, their daughters or anyone else really in my family. I felt really uncomfortable about going but seeing that it was such a monumental birthday, I had to suck it up. 
At this point in time, my mom was getting fed up with her family. My son had started nursery school and I had posted pics of his first day of school, ever, on my Facebook page and not one person from my family (except my mom’s youngest sister) commented or hit the like button. My mom was really hurt by it and so she left a comment saying “I guess no one in my family cares that my grandson started school today.”. 

She asked me if I would be attending my grandmother’s party and I told that I was but I was doing so reluctantly. She told me she didn’t really want to go either but that we had to. I explained to her that I never even got a real invite. As upset with her sisters my mom would become, at times, she never believed that they’d purposely leave me out. I when to show her the invite requests that I had on my phone and I how I only had the one for the original save the date and not the actual party. 
Later that night I got home and suddenly I get this nasty text from my mom saying that she was so ashamed of me and couldn’t believe I wasn’t going to my grandmother’s party! A few minutes I get another nasty text from her youngest sister, my aunt Dana, telling me that she couldn’t believe I wasn’t going to my grandmother’s party and how she told her kids that she would disown them if they didn’t come and all this crazy shit! I had no clue why either of them were saying this and so I finally asked my aunt who informed me that she got a notification on Facebook saying I wasn’t attending the party! Sure enough I figured out that as I was searching my invites, I had accidentally hit the, “not attending” button on the save the date. I told them both to cool their tits and that it was a mistake. I also made a public post to let everyone know it was a mistake, so I could calm down all the gossip that I knew would take place but no one even responded. 
My place as the family “black sheep” had been solidified. I realized in the preceding years that my family was somewhat like a mini-Mafia and Aunt Bea was the boss and Aunt Debbie was the underboss and of you went against them or tried to break up their delusions of a perfect family, you were bound to be come rejected, outcasted and shunned by all. That’s exactly how I felt…..
(To be continued in my next post) 

To tell or not to tell, that is the question. 

I caught my brother and Satan going through my mom’s safe while she was in the hospital and the receipt I found on the floor that had fallen from the pile of papers had confirmed to me 100%! I call that divine intervention right there. What most likely happened was that they were looking at my mom’s will and they brought all the papers into her kitchen and spread them all out onto her counter. When they went to put them away, they probably accidentally grabbed the receipt and stuffed it in there. 
My husband and I left. He got in his car, I got in mine to head up to the hospital. I started to think back to that day when they went to my mom’s house and it hit me. My brother called me earlier on that day. I remember thinking it was extremely weird that he called me. At that point in time it had been months since I had physically spoken on the phone. In fact the last time was my birthday, all the way back in March. We hardly communicated at all but when we did it was always via text. I thought back to the conversation and how strange it was and I remembered that it seemed like there was no real purpose to the call. My brother is not very good at this kind of shit. The whole conversation was basically him trying to find out what I was doing that day, if and when I was going to the hospital, etc. I remembered hanging up with him thinking, “that was fucking weird! “. That’s when the lightbulb went off, “Holy shit.” He called that day to make sure I wasn’t going to be at my mom’s house! I knew something was up that day and there was more to that call.
The more I thought about everything the more angry I became. This was NOT my brother. It was not him going through my mom’s mail. It was not him going through her financial statements. It was not him looking for her will in the safe. I just could not see my brother masterminding any of this shit. While my brother is very intelligent, he is just not that guy who’s going to step up to the plate and take charge. He never was like that. He was always very unsure of himself. He couldn’t even walk into a family function by himself. He would always call me and see if I was coming and sometimes he’d even wait outside for me. When my cousin’s father in law died, I made plans to drive to his wake and my brother had to call me up and ask if I was going before he made a decision. There is just no way in hell I would ever believe he came up with this idea of calling me up to make sure I’m not in the area, going to my mom’s house, opening all of her mail, under the guise of helping her do bills and stuff and especially the laundry part. I mean he has NEVER done anything even close to that before. It’s just not him. My mom practically had to beg for him to help her with things. There’s no way. 
I had to decide whether or not I would tell my mom. I really didn’t want to upset her or hurt her. As much as I knew talks about her wishes would have to happen one day, I was very uncomfortable bringing this stuff up with her. I didn’t want to scare or upset her. She was already terrified. Satan was counting my mom’s money. That’s what she was doing. She wanted to see how hard she had to work on her investment. 
Ultimately I decided my mom needed to know. I got to the hospital that day and made sure she was ok before I settled in and started to talk about it. I believe she brought them up. I asked her what their reasoning was for going to her house that day and she said she really didn’t know but they said it was to do laundry and bring her clean pajamas. I pointed out her that they had only washed three pairs of pajamas and ended up buying her new ones anyway. So why did they bother washing the old ones if they were just going to buy new ones? I asked her if she knew what else they did while they were there and she said she didn’t know and so finally I told her. She was angry and ready to call them up and confront them. I told her to wait. I also told her that they had opened all her mail and went through her papers. She was pissed. She told me to hide the combination to the safe next time I went there. She too knew it wasn’t my brother. It’s just not stuff he would do and knowing that, it made her even more upset. I told her not to say anything and to play it cool until we saw they did something else or if they mentioned to her that they went through her safe 
The next day she told me she talked to them and there was no mention of them going in the safe but my brothers wife told her she went through all the mail and through out the things that she thought was unimportant. I would never. I have known my inlaws for a decade and I would never feel comfortable enough to go into their home while they weren’t there and start opening up mail. I didn’t even feel comfortable opening my own mother’s mail. Satan had a story to explain everything. The baby moved the basket near the safe. The baby ate the food. The baby did it all! She covered all grounds but none of it was making sense. It was still very weird that they hadn’t helped much with ANYTHING and now the one thing they do want to help with is my mom’s finances??? Something was up and from that point on I knew I needed to keep a close eye on them and what they were doing.
Satan’s life revolves around money. It’s all she talks about. Once she realized that she’d be inheriting almost a half a million dollars, my mom became and investment to her. For three years she completely disregarded my mom and her feelings. She had no relationship with her but once she went through her bills and financial statements and had an idea of where my mom stood financially, she befriended my mom. My mom was now an investment to her and the ass kissing started real hard at that point on. 

(To be continued in my next post)

Safe keepings 

My brother and Satan were putting in more effort during this hospital stay. They came to visit more often. Sure one can say they realized my mom had cancer and they saw that they were wrong for treating her like a piece of dog shit for the past three years and they may be right, but I have to question why someone who previously had absolutely no empathy for my mom, suddenly started to treat her like a real human being. Not only did she start acting as if she cared for my mom but at some point she actually took over all communication with my mom, for my brother. If they were coming to the hospital, Satan would be the one to call my mom and make the arrangements. No matter what it was, she would be the one who communicated. 
It was about 3 weeks into my mom’s hospital stay when my girlfriend, well my best friend, Toni came to town. She had moved out of state right after high school and never came back. We still remain friends. Anyway, I hadn’t seen her in a while and so we made plans to meet up in the city. I felt really weird leaving my mom for the day knowing I wouldn’t see her until the next day but she assured me it was ok. I had asked her if I could borrow a small purse from her because I didn’t want to lug around my big purse in the city all day. She told me to go to her house and look in either her closet or my old closet and there would be one. 
I took a ride to her house, about 11:30pm the night before my city trip. I dropped off a bag of dirty pajamas on the counter that I had brought home from the hospital because my mom thought she was being discharged the next day. I went in her room but couldn’t find the bag I was looking for and so I decided to search the closet in my old bedroom. Since I moved out about ten years ago, my room has become a junk room where my mom throughs things she has no room for elsewhere. It was also the toy room. My mom had tons of toys in there for my son to play with. As soon as I walked in the room I know something was off. The toys were all kept in one corner my mom kept them in two wicker barrels and whatever toys didn’t fit in those, she piled in front of them. The one wicker barrel was moved to the complete opposite side of the room. It was weird because I was at her house the day prior, my son was in that room and played with some of the toys but I cleaned it all up before we left and I specifically remembered putting that barrel back in its place but I started to second guess myself because it’s possible I forgot. Regardless I picked it up and put it back in it’s place. 
Two days later my mom calls me and tells me that Satan called her and asked her if she needed anything from her house. My mom told her no and that I was going there at some point in the next 24 hours. My mom told me that she seemed really eager to go to her house and of course it raised an eyebrow for me too. My brother and her never really went to my mom’s house when she wasn’t home, before. My brother may have been there to do something one other time earlier that summer. In fact, for almost a year straight my brother didn’t even have a key to her house. My mom broke her key off in the lock and had to replace the lock the previous summer. She had just given it back him. 
I asked my mom why they wanted to go there and she said she really didn’t know. They said they were going to do some laundry for her but she didn’t really have anything that needed cleaning that bad. As we are talking about it, my brother and Satan come strolling into my mom’s hospital room. Satan is carrying a plastic Target bag. She drops it on the foot of the bed and pulls out a brand new pair of pajamas. She goes on to explain that she and my brother went did her laundry but they only stuck around long enough to to switch the clothes over to the dryer. She then tells my mom that my brother had to get a hair cut and her the baby were stuck waiting in the car for an hour. After that they went to target and got her a new pair of pajamas. 
As I’m sitting there looking down at my phone and trying my hardest not to get caught rolling my eyes, I get a text from the neighbor who was looking after my mom’s dog’s. She tells me that someone had opened all of my mom’s mail and threw some of it away. Immediately my heart starts pumping and I start getting that weird feeling in my gut. I wait a few minutes and then tell my mom I have to leave. I say goodbye and I race right over to my mom’s house to see what they were doing. I just had a very weird feeling.
I get to the house and notice this neat stack of folded up papers sitting on the table where a large pile of mail, flyers and newspapers once sat. My mom was in the hospital for 3 weeks at that point and had accumulated quite a decent amount of mail. The pile was way too neat. The edges of each sheet of paper was perfectly aligned. I know it wasn’t my brother who left it that way, it was Satan. Something just didn’t sit right with me about her going through my mom’s mail. I don’t even touch my mom’s mail. That is her business, not mine. 
My mom sued her doctor for malpractice when her kidneys failed back in the early 90’s. The doctor completely glossed over a simple blood result that could’ve got her diagnosed sooner and possibly saved her kidneys. In stead he had her running around from doctor to doctor, and convincing her that the symptoms she was experiencing were a result of aging. She did that for an entire year. They settled out of court for half a million dollars. My mom and dad obviously spent some of it on things we needed but she put the bulk of it in mutual funds and annuities. She got quarterly statements mailed to her house and she opens them and put them in a pile on her stove along with other documents. That pile also had been gone through and was neatened up. 
The bags I brought home from the hospital were also ransacked. I had put some of the snacks that people got my mom inside and some of the snacks were opened and eaten. I went downstairs to check the laundry. There were exactly THREE pairs of pajamas in there. It made no sense. I then went upstairs and called my husband who happened to be in his way home from work. He comes by my mom’s house and as I’m showing him all the stuff that was moved, we are scratching our heads trying to figure out why they’d be going through her mail and stuff. It was then that I told my husband about the wicker basket being moved across the room that day, and how I thought I was losing my mind because I really thought I put it back. We walk into my old bedroom so I can show him where it was and low and behold it was moved across the room again.
That wicker basket was sitting right in front of my mom’s safe. I turned to my husband and said, “can it be? Were they in her safe?”. I went into the office and got the combination. We all knew where the combo was kept as we all had things in that safe when we lived at home. Things like jewelry and important documents were stored in there. I did the combination and opened the safe and right away I could tell it was a complete mess! My mom kept it relatively neat throughout the years and it looked like someone had taken everything out and carelessly shoved it back in. I started removing items to see if anything was noticeably missing. I didn’t see anything and so I started looking through the documents and there it was, my mom and my dad’s wills. 
I opened them up and looked at them. They stated that should my dad survive my mom he wound be the beneficiary. Should they both be deceased it named my two aunts, Aunt Bea and Aunt Debbie as executors. I was shocked to see their names there. For the past three years my mom kept telling me it was my brother as the executor and she wanted to put me on it as the executor. It wasn’t anything real personal against my brother it’s just that she knew who wore the pants over there and it wasn’t my brother and my mom did NOT want his wife having any say in her affairs. 
I didn’t want to look at it anymore. My husband and I both concluded that that was most likely why they were in her safe to begin with. I folded all the papers back up and put them back in the ziplock bags my mom had stored them in. I put everything back in when suddenly I realized I forgot a piece of paper. I picked up the small piece of paper and started to read it. It was a receipt for a frigidaire a/c unit. For a second I felt a bit out of sorts. I thought maybe this was the receipt for the old A/C that had just crapped out on her. Then I looked at the date and sure enough it was dated from the beginning of August. It was the receipt that I had left on my mom’s kitchen counter in the weeks prior. There’s only one way that receipt could’ve gotten in there… 
(To be continued in my next post) 

You could lead a horse to water….

I know what I wrote to my Aunt Debbie was harsh. I knew I may have gone a little overboard but I was just done. I couldn’t take the bullshit anymore and I wanted her and everyone else to know. I knew she was going to show my Aunt Bea that letter. I have a theory in life. If you don’t want people to know what you said, don’t say it at all! I knew she would most likely share it and I didn’t care. I was taking a stand for myself. They no longer were going to control me or my feelings anymore. 
I made a very conscious decision not to tell my mom about these letters and the fact that I was keeping my distance from my family. I knew she’d be upset that I was telling people she was depressed but she couldn’t deny it at that point. She would say those very words to me. More so than that I didn’t want her to see how shitty her sisters really were. It would all fall on meI knew my mom and what a sensitive person she was and I knew to see how they reacted to my words it would hurt her on a very deep level. She was already upset with Aunt Bea who continued to kiss Satan’s ass on social media. I decided that telling her would be detrimental to her health and so I tried to keep it from her for as long as I could. 

My mom wasn’t stupid though, she started to notice something was up. I would post photos and stuff of my son on social media and no one from my family would like or comment on them. She would ask me why but I would just tell her I didn’t know. 
It was now the summer. My mom’s condition seemed to be getting worse. It was the beginning of July and she started having trouble breathing. She went and saw a lung doctor back in June who put her on and inhaler and a nebulizer treatment. After a a few weeks though her breathing seemed to get worse. She told me she couldn’t even bend down to pick up her dog’s bowls to feed them. I knew something more was going on. 
My brothers kid turned one in early April but they didn’t have a birthday party for her at that time because they had put their house on the market and bought a newer, more expensive home. I couldn’t understand why they even needed to buy a new home. As much as I hate to admit it, The house they lived in was already nice. They had a huge swimming pool in the yard, a nice piece of property on a cul de sac and the house was completely renovated and updated. They were also in one of the best school districts in our county. I guess it wasn’t enough for Satan. 
I remember reading somewhere that psychopaths and their cluster B counterparts get bored easily. They have a constant need for excitement in their lives. That was certainly true for Satan. It seemed like she could never just stop and smell the roses. She constantly had to be planning the next big thing in her life. She did the engagement, the wedding, the baby and now she needed the big thing in life to keep her busy, a new house. Idle hands are the devils playground I suppose. 
They moved into their house sometime in June and so Satan must’ve gotten bored and so she decided to plan a 1st birthday party for her kid who was now nearly one and a half years old. Most people probably would’ve called it a wash by then. I know I would’ve felt a little strange throwing a party for my son four months after his birthday but to each their own I guess. Either way, she had the entire summer at that point and could’ve had the party on any day but she choose my mom’s birthday, at the end of July to have it. 
It was the first time since before their wedding that I was actually invited to a party. I hadn’t seen my brother since we brought our kids to my mom’s house that day back in March and we hadn’t really spoken since he brought my mom for the second opinion at Sloan Kettering. They hadn’t helped with my mom since then either. My husband didn’t want to go to their house. He was pretty pissed off at this point too. Our entire lives were turned upside down since the day after Christmas 2015. We were the ones who were helping my mom with everything. If something broke in her house my husband was the one who’d be over there fixing it. My brother always had an excuse. I really didn’t want to go to their house either as I was also annoyed. Also there was the whole issue with my aunts. My husband didn’t want them to see my son and I felt the same way and so together we both decided that we weren’t going to attend the birthday party. As a parent, I don’t want my son to think it’s ok to treat other people like shit. 
At this point in time I hadn’t spoken to anyone in my family. Not even my supposed “sister” Tina. She just stopped talking to me one day and I had no idea why. I also didn’t want to see Aunt Bea or Aunt Debbie. I was still pretty upset with both of them. I didn’t know how I was going to break this news to my mom. I really didn’t have any other excuse for not going. After everything happened between my cousins I had extreme anxiety about going to family parties for a very long time. I had just started to get over that and now I felt like it was back again. I was having bad anxiety in general with everything that was going on with my mom too. For the last decade I forced myself to go to family functions out of respect for my mom but I was just at a point where I was really fed up. I had written my aunt Sue and apology for snapping at her and she never acknowledged it. I felt awkward around her too. I just had no desire to be around any of my aunts and uncles and to be quite honest, I still felt very awkward with my brother and Satan. Our reconciliation was a complete farce. They only invited us when their was an audience. They went out for my brothers birthday earlier in July and we weren’t invited but now that the whole family was going to be there, they decided to invite us? 
Also, to be honest I thought it was bullshit that they were even having a party for their daughter this many months after her birthday and I also thought it was bullshit that they choose my mom’s Birthday of all days to do it. My mom had hands down the hardest year of her life. She had been through hell and was still going through hell. I thought of that birthday was going to be her last, then she deserves a day that’s all about HER. She shouldn’t be over shadowed by a one year old. 
I had to tell my mom and the more I put it off, the worse it was going to be and so one day on the phone I finally came out with it. She was pissed….like really pissed. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her but I explained to her that I just felt awkward at my brother’s house. I also told her I’d do the right thing. I’d politely say I had other plans that day and send a gift for the baby. She didn’t want to hear it and so finally at that moment, everything just kind of hit me and I started to cry. I told her that I was extremely worried about her and that I reached out to my aunts to get them to help me and they turned it into an argument. She was demanding I show her the letters but I made a conscience decision not to show her. I didn’t care. She didn’t need to see them and she didn’t need yet another reason to be upset. She was so angry that she hung up the phone on me. Later that night I wrote her an email and explained myself, my feelings about my brother and my aunts. Once I laid it all out in a way she could understand, she got it and just told me to make sure I let them know I wasn’t coming. 

Ever since everything went down with my cousins, I somehow got painted as the family big mouth. I was honestly fine with it. They’re right, I do have a big mouth and when someone is being treated wrong or unfairly, you’re damn skippy I’m going to say something to you about it. If sticking up for the truth makes me the bad guy, then fine. 
AIt was the day before the party when my mom called me and told me her breathing was getting really, really bad again. She told me that she could not bend down at all. If she did she would get really winded and she would have a really hard time catching her breath. I was strongly urging her to go to the ER again but she kept saying she was fine, she could wait, it’s not that bad ALL of the time, only when she’d bend down. She was really avoiding the doctors at all costs and I knew exactly why. She knew her kidney was failing but she didn’t want to face it. I also think she was scared to tell my brother and Satan she was going to miss their party. I told her, if they’re normal human beings that they will understand that her health was more important. I could hear how bad her breathing was just by talking to her. She was gasping for air in between every word and it was seriously scaring the shit out of me. I kept saying it over and over that she should go to the ER but she said all she wanted to do was sleep. When we hung up I did a google search for “out of breath while bending down.” And something came up about heart failure and so I sent it to her in a text message with the intention of scaring her into letting me take her to the ER 
It was about 11:30pm that same night when my phone was ringing. I answer the phone and it’s her and she’s screaming, [my name] get over here!!!! I can’t breathe!!!!.” I didn’t even ask her what was going on. I told her I was calling 911 and heading over. I literally ran right out of my house and started heading over there. I called 911 while I was driving. I was crying. I was really scared. I really thought I was going to get there and find her lying dead on the floor and I was all by myself. 
I got up to the house and the ambulance was there already which completely shocked me. My ride there was less than ten minutes. What ended up happening was that she must’ve had a panic attack. She said she felt as if she couldn’t breathe in bed and she was lying there focused on the breathing when suddenly she got an excruciating cramp in her leg, she jumped out of bed and lost her footing, hit her collarbone on the dresser and went down like a ton of bricks, that’s when she called me.
 I walked into her living room and she is seated in her oversized chair talking to the EMT’s. The EMT told her she just had a panic attack. He was almost trying to convince her that she didn’t need to go to the hospital and so I explained that her hemocrit was low, she was swelled up, she couldn’t breathe and he was making excuses. Blaming the hot summer air, the fact she had asthma and COPD. I was kind of annoyed with him to be honest. In fact at one point I said, “well she has a lot of things going on…she has a complex medical history.” He responded to me by saying, “we all have a medical history. That doesn’t mean we have to run to the emergency room, every time something happens.”. 
Eventually my mom let the guy talk her out of going even though she was complaining about the pain in her collarbone. The EMT’s packed it up and left. I was really annoyed with my mom. Clearly she wasn’t in good shape. I again tried to plead with her and told her I could still take her to the ER, that I didn’t care how late it was. She refused and told me she just wanted to go to bed and sleep. You can lead a horse to water…
I left my mom’s house that night with a very, very bad feeling. There was something all too familiar about this all. I felt like I was reliving the last months of my dad’s life. I had no idea how bad things….EVERYTHING…was going to get….

To be continued in my next post. 

That one phone call…

(Please see my previous posts so the story will make sense)

My mom ended up in the hospital again in early march and I was feeling very overwhelmed. I know my family was trying to help us out with all this “second opinion” stuff but it was getting to be too much. My brother seemed to suddenly jump into action and start setting up the appointment for the second opinion at Sloan Kettering about my mom’s cancer. My mom didn’t want to go because she didn’t feel well enough to go and I could tell but she was feeling pressured. 

I know I’m going to sound like some paranoid crazy freak here but I found my brother and Satan’s sudden interest in my mom’s health kind of strange. I mean they literally went from doing nothing to planning her trip to Sloan kettering. I was a little annoyed because my brother wasn’t communicating with me about it at all. I was also annoyed at the way my aunt Bea had gone about informing my brother and the fact that phone call she had with Satan really bothered me too. It was just arranged how they went from completely unconcerned to very concerned over night. We had known she was sick and struggling for months now with this cancer and it wasn’t until that phone call with my aunt that they finally started to show concern for my mom. 
I wasn’t alone. My husband also found it strange and so one day in conversation, me and my husband realized that we had both been thinking the same exact thing. As I said many times here on this blog, my mom was very depressed and angry over the fact that me and my brother were estranged. She went from not being crazy about Satan, to loathing her as if she were some type of pariah. It had to be a year or so before she even got sick, me and my mom were talking about her cousin Kara that lived in Florida. My mom was her god mother and even though there was so many miles between them, my mom and her remained close. Kara’s father had passed away when she was around 25. Her mother started going to parents without partners meetings and eventually she met this guy named Bob. Bob happened to be loaded! He was a real estate investor and had made himself quite a bit of money. He had different houses up and down the east coast and her mother and him were constantly traveling. Bob and her got married but eventually he passed away. He had kids but they didn’t speak to him and so he decided to leave his small fortune to Kara’s mom. Well it was probably the same year that my brother and Satan met, Kara’s mom also sadly passed away. She was down in Florida with Kara when she passed. Kara also had a sister named Lola who still lived here. When someone passes and has a will they most notify all next of kin that the will has been submitted to probate. Lola received her notification and to her surprise she had been completely cut out of the will which meant that Kara . No one knows for sure why their mom would’ve cut Lola from the will but I’m sure she had good reasons. 
Anyway during my conversation with my mom my mom comes out and says, “I’m telling you, at first I didn’t understand how my aunt could’ve done that to her daughter but she was at the point that she was seriously considering taking your brother off of my will too because I don’t want his wife having any of my money.”. I told my mom she was crazy, a) for even worrying about her will but B) because of she did that she’d be guaranteeing that my brother and I never speak again. I told her if she did that I would give him half anyway because I am not going to want to have any problems with him. I watch enough Dateline and 48 hours to know what money and greed drives people to do. My mom then told me that at the very least, she wanted to put me as executor of her will because she didn’t trust Satan and didn’t want her in her affairs. My mom would go on to tell this to just about everyone she talked to in the next few years. 
So going back to the conversation that my husband and I had about Satan, her phone call with my aunt Bea and my brother’s and her sudden interest in her healthcare, we speculated that my aunt Bea had warned my brother that my mom was thinking of disinheriting him and that he should step it up and start taking a more active roll in her healthcare to ensure that didn’t happen. We could’ve been totally wrong about it but given the circumstances over the past two and a half years, it was just very odd. Up until that point they hardly even asked how she was. My mom would go weeks at a time not hearing from my brother. They would come for the rare obligatory visits in the hospital by beyond that, they offered no help whatsoever. Everything fell on me. 
I wrote to my Aunt Sue and sort of vented about Aunt Bea to her. This wasn’t the first time she had done some weird and kind of shady shit behind my back. My aunt Sue who’s one of the few women in my family who’s opinion I truly respect wrote back to me and sort of made it seem like a was crazy for thinking my Aunt Bea was conspiring against me. She was trying to give me advice but at the time my head was too fucked up to handle it because I had so much of it coming my way that I took at as she was saying that I wasn’t doing what I should’ve been doing for my mom and that I wasn’t understanding how serious her illness was. I got angry and kind of snapped back at her because I felt like all I was doing was trying to help her and take care of her. I took my anger out on her and it wasn’t right. She was the only one truly trying to help me. 
At this point in time, I was starting to feel like I was living in some twilight zone. I was doing everything in my power to help my mom and yet my family was talking to me as if I wasn’t doing enough or it was my fault she was getting worse. I felt like every time I vented about my brother not helping or being there, l was told that I was focusing on the wrong things and that I needed to focus on my mom. Meanwhile I was focused on my mom but I was also getting extremely stressed being the only one who was really there and physically helping. It took me a long time to see this but I realized that I had every right to worry about, be upset about or be hurt about what was going on. My family was trying to control my feelings and tell me I was crazy for feeling the way I did and I was just sick of it. It was my life and I had to live it and I had no choice but to deal with the things that god gave me. 

Time for a second opinion. 

My mom was released from the hospital and I brought her home and helped her get set up. She could hardly walk and even though she had a state of the art, adjustable bed at home complete with massaging features, a remote control and led lights to light so you can find your slippers in the middle of the night, she was having a lot of trouble getting into and out of her bed. For the first few weeks I was there everyday helping her out. I had to help her make food, do laundry, run errands and shower. She couldn’t bend down which meant she couldn’t wash the lower half of her body and so I had to do that for her. I was angry that they even allowed her to go home alone in the condition she was in. Perhaps a rehab center would’ve been a better choice but o did not know about those until much later on. The social worker on her floor was a total, useless Bitch. 
My brother didn’t come by at all or offer to help with anything and either did my aunts. About a month after the surgery my mom had to see an oncologist. I wanted to go with her to the appointment but Aunt Bea and Aunt Debbie already volunteered. They hadn’t done anything else up until that point to help and so I guess it was the least they could’ve done. I asked my mom if she still wanted me to come and she was really giving me the hint that she didn’t want me there. She kept insisting that my aunts were bringing her and that I should just stay home with my son. Looking back I think my mom didn’t want me to know exactly what was going on because she didn’t want to face what was going on. She knew if I was made aware I’d be on her about it and constantly nagging her to make sure she was following through with everything she needed to do. To this day I regret that I didn’t go to that one appointment with her. I went to almost every other appointment she had and I miss one of the most important ones? So stupid. 
Anyway, my mom calls me later that night and tells me that, that morning she woke up to a feeling of wetness in her bed. She lifts the blankets to see that her sheet is completely saturated with blood. It ends up she popped open the top inch of the large incision on her lower belly. She sat in blood soaked clothing until my aunts got there and helped her clean up. They put bandages on the wound to stop the bleeding, on the advice of her doctor. I was so mad that she didn’t tell me when it happened. I would’ve come by and helped her. My mom was very independent and especially so since my dad died. She didn’t like to burden people or seem needy always asking for help. I had to remind her all of the time that I didn’t care what time it was or what I was doing, that she could call me anytime if she needed anything. She always said she didn’t want to bother me. 
The doctor looked at he wound when she got there and he told her it looked ok and just to keep on top of it. Since my mom couldn’t even see the wound, I was the one who had to all the dirty work. I had to go there everyday to clean it out and change the bandage. Typically I am not the type of person who could deal with that kind of stuff but I had no choice. No one else was going to do it. It was disgusting to look at. I could see about a half inch of flesh. I could throw up just thinking about it but it had healed nicely. 
The oncologist didn’t have the best of news. He had gotten back the pathology report and it was determined that my mom had a rare and aggressive form of kidney cancer called papillary type two. That was really scary news. The cancer had also spread to some of the lymph nodes and so doctor who did the surgery removed whatever he could along with then adrenal gland that sat atop her kidney. I knew that once cancer had spread from the spot it had originated from, it wasn’t a good thing. I watched my dad die from cancer and I knew all too well what cancer could do to a person yet I tried to remain helpful. 

A few days prior to my mom’s appointment with the oncologist, my aunt Sue who was married to my mom’s oldest brother reached out to me one day. We had a nice discussion about my mom, her diagnosis, her reluctance to follow up on things, and most importantly her denial and depression and what role it played in her caring for herself. My aunt had done some research and had posed an idea to me. She was not happy that the doctors were waiting three months to do follow up scans. She suggested my mom get a second opinion from one of the top cancer hospitals in the country, Sloan Kettering. I thought it was a great idea and I was so appreciative that she took the time out to do that research. She had reached out to doctors and got names and numbers. She explained that she wasn’t pressuring me and that she was just telling me that when my mom was ready and up to it, she should seriously consider going. 
I agreed but being that I was the one helping to care for her on a day to day basis; I didn’t not think she was ready for a long car ride to the city. She couldn’t even take the ride to the doctors office or to the lab. 
I mentioned it to my mom one day. She sounded interested and thought it was a good idea but told me she wasn’t quite ready to go. She wanted a break from all of this. I didn’t pressure her. I figured I’d wait a week or two and mention it again. I was more focused on her trying to heal from the surgery. She had been through a lot in the past few months. The one day my mother calls me to tell me that my brother and Satan had stopped by. While they were there Satan hands my mom a piece of paper and tells her that she’s been doing research and she had gotten in touch with these doctors at Sloan Kettering and she thinks it’s a great idea that my mom gets a second opinion. My mom actually thought Satan was trying to help but I explained to my mom that Satan actually wasn’t the one who did all the work, that aunt Sue did. 
My mom was disappointed but not too surprised. This is what Satan and her other, personality disordered counterparts do. They love taking credit for other people’s work and ideas. So long as it puts them in the spotlight it’s ok. I wondered how Satan even heard about this whole second opinion thing. We had a connection at Sloan Kettering in our family. My mom’s cousin’s daughter worked there. Aunt Bea decided to get in touch with her to get more info about how to get an appointment there. My aunt forwarded the email to me, Aunt Sue and Aunt Debbie. I wrote to Aunt Sue and asked her if she told my brother and she told me that she didn’t but my Aunt Bea forwarded him the email. When I looked at who was Cc’d on the email, his name wasn’t there and so that mean he got his own special email from Aunt Bea, about it. 
I was annoyed. My aunt Bea had no place stepping in and informing him and if she really felt the need to, who wasn’t he CC’d on the same email as us? At the end of the day, it wasn’t her place to inform my brother. I didn’t inform him about it because I didn’t think my mom was ready to go just yet and I figured when she was, she would tell him when she was. Everyone thought it was crazy that my mom was told to go for a follow up scan three months from her first one. What they didn’t understand is that, waiting is standard procedure. There is a logical reason for it. They need to have something to compare their scans too. I assume that even the most aggressive forms of cancer don’t grow a substantial enough amount in 3 months time. 
I was on the phone with Aunt Debbie one day talking about all this nonsense and I was telling her what Aunt Bea did and she agreed it was weird. As we were talking she mentioned that my Aunt Bea and Satan had a whole phone call about my mom. I’m sorry but I just found it weird. She knew how uncomfortable my mom was with her being that cozy with Satan. Again, it made her feel like Aunt Bea was saying well I know my sister is an asshole to you but I’ll be your friend. It was just wrong. My mom didn’t have phone conversations with her daughter’s or son’s significant others. I wish I could’ve been a fly on the wall during that conversation though because after that day, something changed with my brother and Satan….

(To be continued)