April 15, 2006
Have you ever wanted something for so long that you almost forget why you wanted it until you get it, and even then sometimes you're left wondering what the big deal was in the first place?
I opened my email this morning to find this:
I don't usually get obituaries in my email but this one kind of caught me by suprise. Not only did I not know it was coming but I had just been thinking about her the other day when I wrote the birthday post about my father. You see, this was his wife.
No, not my mother. This was the woman he left my mother for. His third wife. My step-monster.
I don't use that term lightly. This one makes the evil step-mother in Hansel and Gretle pale by comparison. I don't blame her for the fact that my dad left us, though she knew he was married with 4 kids to support yet she still pursued a relationship with him.
Ok, maybe I do blame her a little but he was a grown man, too.
I'm processing a lot of emotions right now.
I feel guilty for being happy that a human being has died.
I feel anger that I never got to tell her to fuck herself.
I feel relief that it's finally over.
But mostly it's a combination of all of the above and that's making writing about it very hard right now. It may be a while before I can figure this out. After all, this is the woman that gave what should have been my family business and my family summer home to her children.
That sounds shallow, I know ... but it wasn't about money. I lost big chunks of my childhood experience, an experience that was wonderful and that I hoped, one day, to be able to share with my kids and their kids. She was one reason I could move so easily from Massachusetts. The only thing keeping me there was the fact that I could jump in the car and drive north whenever I needed to get away.
When my dad was dying, so much was going on. I was dealing with serious health issues of my own (it was a very complicated pregnancy, everything from cancer of my own to a blood disorder that threatened us both) but I visited him every day. We sat and passed time, no demands, no blame, and we resolved our relationship. She saw this and resented it.
When the time came close, she made a trip to a lawyer and took my legacy, my land, my family name and had me written out of it. At the time, I didn't fight it but, damn, now I wish I had.
When I called my mother, all she could do was begin talking about the property and how I got nothing and how I should have fought and it just made my head spin. She didn't want it to be kept in the family, that wasn't her motivation. She just didn't want Claire to have it.
Maybe now she can move on. Maybe we all can. Well, except Claire, of course.
Is it evil that I keep hearing "Ding, Dong, the witch is dead!" over and over in my head?