An Extension
Growing up, it was my mom, sister and me. Just us three girls. My dad left when I was about 8, well, I say he left, but my parents got divorced when I was about 8. I think it was when I was 10 that I stopped seeing him and he didn’t care enough to fight any harder.
So it was just the three of us. As I got older, my mom and I grew farther and farther apart while her and my sister grew closer and closer together. My sister and I grew farther and farther apart as time went on as well.
When I was finally able to me on my own, after babies and a marriage and a deployment, their relationship with me was pretty much over, it seemed. My book, “the loss of A MOTHER’s loss” details how we got to that point.
But, when my mom passed and I went back home to say goodbye, when I saw my sister, I thought our relationship would be repaired. I thought such a tragic event that affected us both greatly, would bring us back together. Really, I thought it had to.
During my week there, I started feeling like I was wrong. She didn’t want to let me in on anything. Not on decisions, not even on what was actually happening, not in just being together, having dinner or breakfast or even just lunch together.
Again, I’m not going to get into all the detail right now, my book covers that, but, when I came back to my family after the funeral, I still hoped maybe there was a chance. I lost my mom without being able to reconcile, I really thought maybe that meant it was something that had to happen to bring my sister and me back together. We should be sisters, we are sisters.
For about a month, I would ask her what was going on, what she needed me to do, what she wanted me to do. I would ask for updates on the things she said were happening. Most of the time the response I would get was something along the lines of “I’ve got it” or “I just need your social” or “What’s your e-mail again?”. I rarely got an update without asking for one. And she never told me some things that I should have helped make a decision in so that was still weighing on me as well.
As she was cleaning out the house, she never once thought to ask me about anything she was getting rid of or anything that was mine or anything that I might want. Not until I said “hey, what are you doing with everything”. She did ask then and I told her I didn’t even know what was there anymore and that was the end of that conversation. Still didn’t ask about anything specific until she found my Letterman Jacket from when I was in high school. She did ask if I wanted that. I said yes. She asked me how I could get it. I didn’t respond. I thought that was an obvious answer. Especially since her husband works for his dad at a shipping company. Hmmmm….how can you get this?
I even found out later that my husband, who knew I was quite upset about some things, asked her himself if she could send some things and said he would pay all shipping costs. She never responded to him.
Anyways, I essentially gave up on asking questions and offering help at that point. She never seemed to want to let me help. She would never tell me fully what was going on. When she did, it was just a brief response. I realized she really didn’t know how she could get me something. I gave up. I had been hurt too many times before to continue to put myself in that position. I didn’t want it anymore. I didn’t see the purpose in trying anymore when I wasn’t getting anywhere and she very obviously by that point didn’t care.
That is all essentially where my book leaves off. It was published about a month after our last communication.
Now, about a month ago, or 3 months after our last communication, I get a text from her. She needed my e-mail again. She had e-mailed me before so I don’t know why she didn’t have it and not 5 minutes later I got another text saying “ASAP”. I gave her my e-mail and that was the end of the conversation. After that, I got an e-mail from the lawyer because the house had been sold. She didn’t have the decency to tell me that herself, I got to find out from the lawyer.
The next day, I get another text from her. It is a nice long text about how she knows I won’t care but she’s struggling and has done this and done that and paid for this and paid for that; about how it’s unfair that her big sister isn’t helping her and on and on telling me how horrible I am.
I’m usually a very nice person. I have a hard time being mean to people, overall. But I could not believe she came at me like that. I told her that I had offered numerous times to help and she would never tell me what she needed from me. Now, she started everything before I had the opportunity. She just dove right into all of it based on what everyone else was telling her to do. So she had it all started so any help I could give her, I had to go through her first. All I needed was her to let me know.
So, I tried explaining that I offered numerous times to help her and she kept telling me she had it under control. I told her I didn’t appreciate her letting me know that she knew I wouldn’t care and how she came at me like that. I told her if she needed help, to let me know what she needs done, what she wants done but to ask instead of coming at me in an accusatory fashion.
That started a big long back and forth. I was in complete disbelief. The conversation ended with me telling her if she needed help, she was going to have to be a little more forth-coming about it. She didn’t respond. It’s been a month and her coming at me like that, she still hasn’t asked for anything. She apparently just needed someone to yell at. I found out about a week later (not from her) that was 12 weeks pregnant. Hormones I guess. Better take it out on someone 1,200 miles away, right.
Of course, now I know I was wrong in my thinking that this would bring us closer together. It seems, unfortunately, that it is actually pulling us farther apart. Such is life, I suppose. Maybe I am the one in the wrong. I really don’t know what I was supposed to do. The only thing I can think of that I could have possibly done different was ask more what she wanted/needed from me. But I keep following that thought up with how many times should I have had to ask. Especially when she didn’t even tell me we were cremating her or ya know, tell me where the ashes were going when all was said and done. I have no idea. None.
She schedule the service for when I told her my flight was because nobody else told her when theirs were so she figured that time would be best for everyone else. Such is life. Such is life. I’ll live a long time wondering what I did wrong, whether in that specific instance or before that to make her act like that towards me all around. I’m sure there’s something I missed sometime, somewhere. Maybe not. I’m just a person though.
Growing up, it was my mom, sister and me. Just us three girls. My dad left when I was about 8, well, I say he left, but my parents got divorced when I was about 8. I think it was when I was 10 that I stopped seeing him and he didn’t care enough to fight any harder.
So it was just the three of us. As I got older, my mom and I grew farther and farther apart while her and my sister grew closer and closer together. My sister and I grew farther and farther apart as time went on as well.
When I was finally able to me on my own, after babies and a marriage and a deployment, their relationship with me was pretty much over, it seemed. My book, “the loss of A MOTHER’s loss” details how we got to that point.
But, when my mom passed and I went back home to say goodbye, when I saw my sister, I thought our relationship would be repaired. I thought such a tragic event that affected us both greatly, would bring us back together. Really, I thought it had to.
During my week there, I started feeling like I was wrong. She didn’t want to let me in on anything. Not on decisions, not even on what was actually happening, not in just being together, having dinner or breakfast or even just lunch together.
Again, I’m not going to get into all the detail right now, my book covers that, but, when I came back to my family after the funeral, I still hoped maybe there was a chance. I lost my mom without being able to reconcile, I really thought maybe that meant it was something that had to happen to bring my sister and me back together. We should be sisters, we are sisters.
For about a month, I would ask her what was going on, what she needed me to do, what she wanted me to do. I would ask for updates on the things she said were happening. Most of the time the response I would get was something along the lines of “I’ve got it” or “I just need your social” or “What’s your e-mail again?”. I rarely got an update without asking for one. And she never told me some things that I should have helped make a decision in so that was still weighing on me as well.
As she was cleaning out the house, she never once thought to ask me about anything she was getting rid of or anything that was mine or anything that I might want. Not until I said “hey, what are you doing with everything”. She did ask then and I told her I didn’t even know what was there anymore and that was the end of that conversation. Still didn’t ask about anything specific until she found my Letterman Jacket from when I was in high school. She did ask if I wanted that. I said yes. She asked me how I could get it. I didn’t respond. I thought that was an obvious answer. Especially since her husband works for his dad at a shipping company. Hmmmm….how can you get this?
I even found out later that my husband, who knew I was quite upset about some things, asked her himself if she could send some things and said he would pay all shipping costs. She never responded to him.
Anyways, I essentially gave up on asking questions and offering help at that point. She never seemed to want to let me help. She would never tell me fully what was going on. When she did, it was just a brief response. I realized she really didn’t know how she could get me something. I gave up. I had been hurt too many times before to continue to put myself in that position. I didn’t want it anymore. I didn’t see the purpose in trying anymore when I wasn’t getting anywhere and she very obviously by that point didn’t care.
That is all essentially where my book leaves off. It was published about a month after our last communication.
Now, about a month ago, or 3 months after our last communication, I get a text from her. She needed my e-mail again. She had e-mailed me before so I don’t know why she didn’t have it and not 5 minutes later I got another text saying “ASAP”. I gave her my e-mail and that was the end of the conversation. After that, I got an e-mail from the lawyer because the house had been sold. She didn’t have the decency to tell me that herself, I got to find out from the lawyer.
The next day, I get another text from her. It is a nice long text about how she knows I won’t care but she’s struggling and has done this and done that and paid for this and paid for that; about how it’s unfair that her big sister isn’t helping her and on and on telling me how horrible I am.
I’m usually a very nice person. I have a hard time being mean to people, overall. But I could not believe she came at me like that. I told her that I had offered numerous times to help and she would never tell me what she needed from me. Now, she started everything before I had the opportunity. She just dove right into all of it based on what everyone else was telling her to do. So she had it all started so any help I could give her, I had to go through her first. All I needed was her to let me know.
So, I tried explaining that I offered numerous times to help her and she kept telling me she had it under control. I told her I didn’t appreciate her letting me know that she knew I wouldn’t care and how she came at me like that. I told her if she needed help, to let me know what she needs done, what she wants done but to ask instead of coming at me in an accusatory fashion.
That started a big long back and forth. I was in complete disbelief. The conversation ended with me telling her if she needed help, she was going to have to be a little more forth-coming about it. She didn’t respond. It’s been a month and her coming at me like that, she still hasn’t asked for anything. She apparently just needed someone to yell at. I found out about a week later (not from her) that was 12 weeks pregnant. Hormones I guess. Better take it out on someone 1,200 miles away, right.
Of course, now I know I was wrong in my thinking that this would bring us closer together. It seems, unfortunately, that it is actually pulling us farther apart. Such is life, I suppose. Maybe I am the one in the wrong. I really don’t know what I was supposed to do. The only thing I can think of that I could have possibly done different was ask more what she wanted/needed from me. But I keep following that thought up with how many times should I have had to ask. Especially when she didn’t even tell me we were cremating her or ya know, tell me where the ashes were going when all was said and done. I have no idea. None.
She schedule the service for when I told her my flight was because nobody else told her when theirs were so she figured that time would be best for everyone else. Such is life. Such is life. I’ll live a long time wondering what I did wrong, whether in that specific instance or before that to make her act like that towards me all around. I’m sure there’s something I missed sometime, somewhere. Maybe not. I’m just a person though.