When I spoke with my youngest sister Kelie yesterday to find out what the arrangements for my Dad would be she said, "Teresa and I think it would be better if you stay home and just come to the memorial in Michigan". I was so hurt and sad. Kelie went on to explain that the woman my Dad had married had insisted on putting my name in the obituary that my Mom and Dad used to call me even though I had my name legally changed several years ago. The woman, insisted that she would use the wrong name even after two of my sisters objected. Apparently she told them that's what my parents called me and that is what she was going to use. Never mind the fact that she knows nothing about me or my life r honestly my family. Actually when my Mom had died my Dad had done the same thing, I can only assume that since my Dad and this woman were dating when my Mom died that she was there when he made the same decision a year ago. It hurt then and it hurts now. I have used my name for 32 years. I have used my middle name which was also my granddaddy's middle name. It means a great deal to me and that's who I am.
After my conversation with Kelie, I was hurt and sad, and I knew there was more to the story, but I did not want to press my sister about it. She had apologized over and over, and I just told her, it was OK. They had been through enough being down there and this was something I could work through. Then I called Mark, hurt and upset and asked him to please come home. On his way home he called Kelie to find out what was going on, and that's when he heard the truth. Apparently, I am never allowed in my parent's house again because of what I took from the house at Thanksgiving. Mark and I are not sure what that is about. They opened the door to a bedroom while we were there and said if I wanted something of my Mom's I could choose from that room; and that is what I did. My Mom's ashes were in there, so that is what I took. I also took a box of hankies that were my Grandmothers and some picture albums. I let my girls each choose items that they would want, and then I left. I guess she told my sisters, that I did not get the items approved before I took them. Approved by whom? They were my Mom's and everything my girls and I chose were all items that would mean something to only us. The only item that might have upset them was my Mom's ashes. OH WELL!! I was not leaving my Mom in the house where my Dad was living with his girlfriend that he had been dating since before she died. I figured he had moved on, so Mom was best with me.
I can only assume that this woman has absorbed all of the things my Dad has said about me over the last few months and created her own picture of who I am. Although he adopted me and for 28 years he was my Dad, I was still a stepchild. He never understood me and the life I lived. He looked down on my beliefs and he made cruel hurtful decisions that have affected me and continue to affect me. Now, as it was during his illness, in his death I can only focus on my hurt. Just yesterday before the conversation with my sister, I was mourning his lose and today I am angry and resentful. I am once again a pendulum of emotion. In the next couple of weeks there will be a memorial here and I will be faced with family and friends who loved him and are sad he is gone. I will join them in mourning him, but I will also be praying that these last weeks will be the end of the hurt, that I can finally stop feeling like an unwanted outsider. I pray that the estate that my Mom left behind can finally be divided fairly and that life can move forward. This hurtfulness needs to stop.
I feel like a dog that has been beaten. I find myself flinching and anxiety ridden, worrying about what will happen next, and how it will happen. Even in the midst of all of this I am sad and confused and feeling so alone. This whole thing is so strange and unbelievable; I am not sure how to talk about it and explain it to anyone without sounding like an attention seeking liar. Yet it is all the truth, the very sad and complex truth.
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