Warning: This entry I am writing for myself. I don't have a therapist, and while a public posting is an odd place for something like this, no one really reads here, so I figure it evens out. IGNORE.....
My grandfather died at nearly 96 last week.
He molested and raped various relatives I care about. This is not secondhand knowledge. Anyone who wonders where I get my odd sense of humor need look no further than the aforementioned events. His brothers did the same to even more relatives and the damn enabling wives of that generation hushed everything up. Pathetic cowards they were.
I, and others affected by this have largely moved on through some forms of healthy forgiveness (not the naive kind, but the I am not going to let this run my life kind), and just pieced together their lives as best they can.
So Ed had some money when he died (<150K. so not a fortune). More later.....
Now Aunt Marlene died in the 90s of a heart attack. She really didn't take care of herself and was developmentally slow due to a problem in the birth process. She had 2 kids, Bruce and Cheryl. They were raised by Ed and Mary (my grandmother who was actually dear). Ed physically and mentally abused Bruce. Not aware of any rape/molesting here. Bruce was like a kind older brother to ne as we all grew up in an extended family house. When he got older, he married Jeannie, who had been raped by her father, no relations between the families. He became an alcoholic, and mean to his kids. Jeannie liked to have kids for selfish reasons - they gave her comfort. After they were 10, she was "done with them", her words. Well, it shouldn't surprise anyone that train-wreck of a family didn't turn out so well. The oldest son Andrew is in the Navy and seems OK. After years of alcoholism, the "Christian" Jeannie meets some redneck off the internet and abandons the family for a while, at least until she tires of him. Not the sharpest tool in the shed.
Cheryl marries an alcoholic moron named Mike. They split years later, and this guy is mean/nuts when he drank. She meets this new guy, Bill Smith (not making this up). We can immediately tell this giuy has serious issues. Cameras at home he can view from work, but Cheryl heeds the warnings not. She moves to rural Alabama and relives "Sleeping with the Enemy". Now getting a divorce from hubby #2, both guys are the serious stalker nutjob types, and she needs to be wary.
So I found out Bruce (who had 2 brain aneurisms likely after treating his body so horribly after years of alcohol and drug abuse, and is now in a Medicaid home with few memories past 25 years of age) had coerced Ed to write a will that included only Cheryl and he. Thanks, pal. No selfishness there. How sad. How pathetic. I am not going to worry about that, but Bruce shouldn't expect any visits either. [A new will was written since then. Ed got tired of Bruce and his ignorant daughter Krystal (who shamefully thinks everyone else should just 'get over it aleady', referring to *rape and molestations*) pressuring him into changing his will]. According to their barely hillbilly logic, Ed should bypass his living daughter altogether even if she (my mom) held the family together as best she could, even if imperfect.
Now my sister and I have worked very hard to get an education, are thankful we had the opportunity, and we don't have to apologize for being successful (we aren't rich either). If some get angry about that, well, so be it.
Ironically, I don't expect a dime in this deal. I don't think my sister does either. Yes, really. I truly don't get all the hate expressed towards us because they are not getting any money from Ed. They use moronic terms like Mars's share. She's dead, morons, and that doesn't mean you, as a great-grandchild of Dead Ed, get money. Even if you were kind enough to deserve sone, in my mind, you used that up when you *coerced* Chester the Molester into writing you as the sole recipients of Dead Ed's savings.
The ironic thing was, my mom was going to give them a cut when the dust had settled. We know they visited him not for good heart, but to make nice for the money. Trust me, rhey are neither educated remotely well, and not good at hiding their true intent. We visited Ed once in the last 15 years. I told him I forgave him, let him see the family, we talked, and he knew exactly why I would never come back and Ed understood. When Krystal called all POed that there was no funeral (should anyone reasonably expect we would want to have one?!?), and dropped a lot of F-bombs and called her a b%tch, do you expect any sympathy now, moron?
Life is a hell of a lot more than money. Oh, it's nice to have, but if that's all that matters to you because you don't have enough, and it's your fault because you were too much of a dumb-a$$ to work hard and educate yourself, keep your bitter ignorance to yourself.
If anyone wonders why I find negative people tiresome, well, I grew up with it, and tire of hearing you over-angrily complain of trivial things with the voracity that your gripungs mean a heck of a lot. When you have seen what I have seen (have I mentioned I saw drunken Uncle Fred chase Aunt Marlene through the kitchen with a butcher knife at 4 years old? That affects you), and you are getting angry at a movie change or a bad joke, pardon me for deeming you needlessly bitter about *nothing* important.
Part of this is cathartic. And I know no one really reads this blog, and that's fine. People above would probably be horrified if they knew anyone could view this. The other reason I wrote this is because, while my mom and I joked about some kind of Dateline event coming from the morons who expected money from Ed, I am not 100% convinced the bitter angry people involved could not resort to violence. Note to world - anything happens to my mom (Kathy) look first to Krystal Kaniewski and/or Jean Kaniewski. Weirder things have happened. Oh yeah, my father, Ron, is mentally abusive to my mom and thinks the FBI has cameras around the house to keep tabs on the drug traffic next door. She has that to deal with as well, but I'll refrain here. The cameras are not real - the drug traffic is real. Welcome to the south Chicago 'burbs.
If the goofy cousins think we all should have done more to intervene because of Bruce's alcoholism and what it did to the family, well, OK, I get that, but what did they expect us to do? We had enough on our own.
Money. If all you have the brains to care about is money, well, you are a sad human.
Therapy over.........................
And so the game gives you a screen afterward that tells you you may wish to improve your deck. Ah, the silly fun.
