Three years ago, I lost my beloved Dad - I still struggle with that, but I’m learning to live with it, slowly!
Just a couple of months after dad passed away, my mum was diagnosed with stage 4 secondary breast cancer. My mum and I had never had the best relationship, she was very jealous of my relationship with Dad, and her mum, my Nan.
She always held me at arms length, and would put me down in public, which made me have massive self esteem issues through my life. I kept trying and trying with her, I even moved 350 miles north after dad died to help care for her, and again she rejected me.
Before she died in the middle of May, I was sat reading to her. She looked up and told me she’d never liked or wanted me. She was so well liked and loved by friends and some family, and I have found it incredibly hard listening to their stories of fun and love. I had none of that.
She was a wonderful Grandmother, and mother to my brother. My ex and current sisters in law were idolised by her - I’ve told them both (supposedly in jest) that they were the daughters she always wanted.
Whilst sorting out the house, we found she’d wrapped up little parcels of jewellery she’d put aside for my sister in laws, and other bits and pieces for my brother and his children. She left nothing personal to me. I thought ok, nothing I didn’t really expect. When they Will was read, my brother and the Grandchildren, and daughters in law were left the bulk of the estate, I got a small sum, just to prove to everyone she wasn’t the monster I’d had to deal with. She also made it clear that I wasn’t to have any of my dad’s stuff, although I have been made ‘keeper of the family archive’, so I do have some things. She’s not here, she has no say!
But you know it isn’t about the money and the ‘things’, it’s the fact that I know now that for nearly 57 years, I’ve been emotionally abused. Going through the family archive, she kept lots of stuff from my brother’s childhood - nothing of mine. In all of her possessions I found 12 photos of me (loads in my dad’s effects) as a baby, none as an adult. There were none in the house when I went to visit either, when I asked her about it one day, she said that she’d rarely seen a photo of me she liked.
I am now caught up in the scenario of my son who she adored and who adored her, absolutely heartbroken. Deep down he knows what she was like to me, but at the moment her halo is shining brighter than ever. He was her carer in the end - she wouldn’t let me even suggest something to help her, never mind care for her, so there’s a huge void in his life. My brother and wives live 7 hours away. I am doing my best to support him, but he keeps asking why I haven’t cried. I know the answer… it’s because I’m relieved she’s gone, but I can’t tell him that can I, and I feel guilty for feeling that way 