My mother died this past August. If any of my extended family reads this they'll instantly accuse me of trying to score pity points for myself.
I'm not.
If you have no sympathy for me over the passing of my mother...so be it. I'm not going to plead for it. I'm just stating the fact, that she like Jacob Marley, is as dead as a doornail.
It happens to the best of us.
Anyway, in the course of my mother's rapid decline and passing, I was disowned by two members of my family.
Were we fighting over who gets Mom's treasures? No. Were we vicious because we each thought we deserved the lion's share of the inheritance? Hardly.
No, my family went batshit crazy over the way I processed her death.
That's it. No revelations of family secrets. No bickering over cash, cars, or mansions.
Nope. It was because of my less-than-polished bourgeois way of expression.
I was cursed (literally!) and disowned. I guess I won't get the money I was owed from a sibling then.
We hear stories of families imploding when a matriarch or partiarch dies, but we never think that will happen in our family. Heh. I sure didn't.
It seems a cult was constructed around her, and if one wished to draw back the musty curtains to let in a bit of light, well, that was unforgivable.
The part that hurts the most is my children (Yes, K, you are not the only grandchild) weren't allowed an opportunity to say good-bye in a normal fashion.
So when I decided the decent thing to do was to put on a memorial service for my mother, so others--not just me--could pay respects that was attacked as well.
It seemed my mother requested no funerals or such. OK, but was this a life-long desire or the wish of a woman who spent the last three-and-a-half months in a hospital and was suffering from depression?
I suspect the latter.
Memorials are for the living as a way to reflect upon the deceased. That's all. Why would the dead care?
Oh, by the way, cursing some one is a pretty good sign you don't know Jesus. Your huffy protests notwithstanding.
Lastly, let it be known that I AM interested in bridge construction. But a bridge has to be built from both sides.
I'm not.
If you have no sympathy for me over the passing of my mother...so be it. I'm not going to plead for it. I'm just stating the fact, that she like Jacob Marley, is as dead as a doornail.
It happens to the best of us.
Anyway, in the course of my mother's rapid decline and passing, I was disowned by two members of my family.
Were we fighting over who gets Mom's treasures? No. Were we vicious because we each thought we deserved the lion's share of the inheritance? Hardly.
No, my family went batshit crazy over the way I processed her death.
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That's it. No revelations of family secrets. No bickering over cash, cars, or mansions.
Nope. It was because of my less-than-
I was cursed (literally!) and disowned. I guess I won't get the money I was owed from a sibling then.
We hear stories of families imploding when a matriarch or partiarch dies, but we never think that will happen in our family. Heh. I sure didn't.
It seems a cult was constructed around her, and if one wished to draw back the musty curtains to let in a bit of light, well, that was unforgivable.
The part that hurts the most is my children (Yes, K, you are not the only grandchild) weren't allowed an opportunity to say good-bye in a normal fashion.
So when I decided the decent thing to do was to put on a memorial service for my mother, so others--not just me--could pay respects that was attacked as well.
It seemed my mother requested no funerals or such. OK, but was this a life-long desire or the wish of a woman who spent the last three-and-a-half months in a hospital and was suffering from depression?
I suspect the latter.
Memorials are for the living as a way to reflect upon the deceased. That's all. Why would the dead care?
Oh, by the way, cursing some one is a pretty good sign you don't know Jesus. Your huffy protests notwithstanding.
Lastly, let it be known that I AM interested in bridge construction. But a bridge has to be built from both sides.
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