Irony, is this it? Nope...

I have apparently answered my own question through complete apathy...yes, there is less than one post per year yet only thru only total apathy. And self-hatred for failure continues to define my existence...for that gem I am reprinting the single worst thing to my mother on the internet because the Google cache (or at least the Wayback machine) is forever...and she would hate having any secrets on the internet to be reproduced forever...god, she is such a worthless f*cking b*tch...

May 6, 2009

Dear Mom,

I don't seriously believe that a “discussion of my place in the family” involves any dialog. It is just as productive for me to write this letter and shred it as attempt to have any kind of “discussion.” You're absolutely right that any relationship involves give and take but, for some reason, are hung up on how it involves you and you alone. I do not appreciate being treated as if I am not adult, as if I do not have other commitments, as if guilt should be the end all and be all of whether I should or should not do something.

As far as I'm concerned, it was immature and unbecoming to not even bother calling me and explain what was going on. Everything was filtered through Brice until I was there on Saturday morning. I had told Brice I would prefer to drive by myself after he made it sound like the only purpose was to label things and box them up. He insisted that we had to bring the truck and actually move the furniture out of the bedroom. I acquiesced because I was under the impression we had to bring the truck and clean out the bedroom.

After we got there, I was not comfortable with the whole idea, especially after it started to feeling like playing house. I'm not really sure why it's relevant what I think of yours and my father's relationship. The whole thing had long ago lapsed into some cartoony soap opera level of petty spitefulness. The fact that relationship had been defined by everything that wasn't there for many years had a created sort of an anti-relationship...although even that isn't entirely true. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference, it's the complete lack of sympathy or empathy or identification. Neither one of you ever fell into the indifferent category. However, after the development of the whole anti-relationship, I had already realized there was nothing I could do about it and it wasn't my problem. I had also realized that I should have never voiced any kind of opinion during the divorce and that should have been entirely between the two of you. I have come to regret saying anything about the bonds my father got when his father passed away. I realize now it was unfair to have been put in that position...I should not have been felt obligated to chose sides one way or another. I have to come to view both of you as people, rather than simply parents. I think its good that you both can be friendly and sit down and have a conversation now but far removed from my childhood, it's strictly academic as to whether that has any intrinsic value outside of whatever personal satisfaction either of you derive from it. With that said, the idea that I needed some kind of validation of yours and my father's relationship put me on edge. I was not really sure to what to think about something that seems important when you're fourteen being put front and center.

I slept fitfully that night, partly because it had felt like playing house, partly because I was running through my head the conversation you and my father had about Eric and him being executor. I don't think the time line was fully understood, I had talked to Eric multiple times about the estate and he was concerned about it being properly taken care of. When Eric talked to my father about taking control of the estate, this after three weeks of Grandma being hospitalized, you not showing up (and having full power of attorney, both legal and medical), and after Eric had refused to allow Grandma to change the will. This was approximately 14 hours before she passed away. At this point, everything was in limbo...I had been unsuccessful in convincing you to come or Eric to call, I had honestly said that I don't know what was going to happen with the estate when Grandma passed away two days prior to this when Eric asked what I thought. In short, while that may have come up on the drive home, I was only partially aware of the conversation and, at any rate, considering the complete disavowal of responsibly on your part until the absolute last minute, I really view the whole conversation and the concerns raised valid at the time.

Which, I suppose, brings me to Sunday morning and realizing perhaps I had made a mistake in thinking things were different in our relationship between the lack of personal invitation, the whole being expected to come by myself, and the whole trying to make out me as some kind of liar about Eric when, at that point, Grandma had to go to hospice (oh, by the way, you do know hospitals only fix sick people, not harbor the dying or stable? There's a limit on your time there) and the responsible party refused to come. So, yes, I was in a horrible mood and the whole “Thank you” thing stuck me as petty and silly when I was under the impression that we had to bring the truck and we had to at least make an attempt at cleaning out the house.

I have three things to address in closing. First, that was cheap shot about me only being interested in the money...the supreme irony is, of course, you don't have to work the rest of your life despite how much grandma would despise that. Second, entitlement? At least call me arrogant...I've worked for everything I have. I moved out with $600 to my name. I have two houses, I've usually had three or more vehicles, and whatever material goods I could possibly want...I got where I am through my hard work. Third, I do not appreciated ______ being excluded after we offered to help…not just me, both of us.