Ten years ago my mom passed away and in her infinite wisdom, made me her Estate Representative. The Estate was closed a few years ago, but I was also devised (a lovely legal term) my parent’s home down south. I’m finally selling the home and with that, removing myself from all the ties I had left in my hometown. I’m not sad about it, which surprises me somewhat, because I thought I would devastated when and if that time comes. But, add in family drama and crap of that nature, I’m walking away–correction–running away like a mad woman. I can physically feel the weight leaving me. The anchor being cut away from my legs and I’m swimming to the surface of a deep, dark pool of sadness and getting pulled out.
This feeling isn’t coming from hating my parents or my childhood, but one of letting go of the past. When I moved up here nine years with my family, I only knew my husband’s family (and that relationship was rocky to say the least). But as time went on, I grew to love this town and this state. It became my home. I became a Hoosier. I still pride myself on being a Native Floridian as well as my daughter being one, but this is my home now. I love the seasons, the people, the culture, the scenery. I feel safe here, the crime is so much less than Orlando.
I feel that I can fully focus on my home here, on what is important to me, not on a piece of paper listing a bunch of unwanted and heavy responsibilities, that took away from my family. Yes, I am being selfish. If being selfish is focusing on improving the home that my family lives in, focusing on the future of my family, then hell yes, I am proudly being selfish.
I didn’t want to be a grown up ten years go. I didn’t want to speak with Hospice nurses and hear “Please have your mother’s false teeth near by, because once she passes away, her jaw will make it difficult to put them in soon after she dies”. I didn’t want to take her clothes to the funeral home and pick out the cards for her viewing. I didn’t want to plan a wake and make sure there was enough chairs in our home, enough food, and that my house is clean enough and the guest room was ready, which was the room that my mom passed away in. I didn’t want to hear my sister-in-law gush about all the fun things she and my mother-in-law were going to do while they were there for my mom’s funeral. Or that my sister-in-law really wants to take a bubble bath in the master bathroom tub, while I deal with cooking for everyone.
Yes…I am still resentful. I am thankful for my Godparents in so many ways, but especially for driving me to the funeral home to talk with them and take my mom’s clothes to them. My two brothers were not there for me. One was busy with something and didn’t want to deal with it and the other decided he was so stressed about it that he went on drug binge.
That still bothers me. I was stressed. Where was my chance to blow off all of my responsibilities? Nineteen months before, two days before my daughter was born, my dad died. I was released early from the hospital (emergency c-section) to bury my dad. One brother was living out of state and the other…I don’t remember. My life was thrown into chaos at that time. All I remember was rushing home to change from the hospital to wear a black dress and rush to see my daddy in his coffin. Not to celebrate the birth my daughter. Not to curl up and gaze upon her perfect face, no…to cry and mourn. Then here I was again, burying my last parent. An orphan at 32. Learning this mother gig alone. Then add the legal responsibilities. God, I was stressed.
My husband had to return to work, which meant long travel. So, soon after the funeral and everyone left, I was alone. In my home where my mom died (that didn’t bother me). Alone with my daughter. I tried to move on. Tried to return to normal. I couldn’t drive by the main road that took me to my parents home or my daughter would scream “Grammy! Grammy!” I had my parents three dogs, which two would pass away within a year of my mom’s death. The last one passed away in 2011. I took that one hard, the last link to my parents in a way.
So, here I am…ten years later. I’m celebrating the last of my responsibilities being taken care of. There’s more to it, but with family crap, I need to keep it private. So, yes I am being selfish. Here’s my version of being selfish: getting new flooring, new upstairs A/C, cleaning up our backyard, painting inside the house. Pretty wild, uh? Ha. But, these are welcomed responsibilities. But, I am adding one more to this list that is solely on me–finishing my novel series.
And this where this blog comes into play. I want to share my journey with others, get feedback, share stories, and otherwise celebrate my new adventure.
A disclaimer: I sometimes use curse words, talk about the BIG THREE–sex, politics, and religion, and I am honest.
Useless Ramblings 
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