Mommy Not So Dearest

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  • TCU, Tuition, and the Price of My Mother’s Cruelty

    My oldest daughter graduates from high school in just a couple of months. Before my grandfather passed away, he made it very clear that neither of my girls would have to worry about paying for college—he would take care of their tuition. The three of us—my daughter, my grandfather, and myself—had multiple conversations about college: visiting different campuses, talking through tuition, and discussing her options. TCU is the college that my daughter has had her heart set on attending. Tuition is about $77–82k per year. Not once did my grandfather tell her she needed to choose a different college.

    This isn’t a polished story; it’s me processing in real time. My mother is the executor of my grandfather’s estate, my daughter’s college is on the line, and I’m just trying not to let her cruelty define the ending.

    My oldest daughter, “E,” has worked incredibly hard since her very first day of kindergarten, and I am not exaggerating. She was the kind of child who set her own alarm, studied without needing to be told, and genuinely enjoyed doing her homework. All of that hard work has paid off. She has been ranked first in her class every year and is now just months away from being valedictorian. Because of her GPA, “E” was automatically accepted to multiple colleges, and she also applied to several others, including TCU—the school she has had her heart set on attending. The day she received her acceptance letter from TCU, she ran out of the house in tears of joy.

    Not only was she accepted, she was also offered one of their top scholarships. That brings us to where we are today. I have to be in contact with my “mother,” because she is the executor of my grandfather’s estate. (Yay. Not.) So I have to speak to her and be on my very best behavior, even though I know it’s not going to change anything. The best way to prepare for how someone is going to act is to rely on past experience. I decided I would include my grandmother in all of my communication with my mother. She married my grandfather after my biological grandmother passed away, so she has been in our lives for more than thirty years—she’s my grandmother. That way, my mother would have no choice but to keep her fake game face on.

    During this whole back-and-forth, my mother suggested Baylor (which isn’t much cheaper than TCU), asked about SMU’s response (which is actually more expensive than TCU), and seemed pleased about OU (which ends up costing about the same because it’s out of state). She is pretty much set on any other college besides TCU.

    The deposit for TCU was due on March 15th or so, and my mother was aware of this. You’ll never guess what she decided to do about two days before the due date: she did what she does best—ghosted me. She ignored my texts. My husband and I paid the deposit. If “E” can’t attend TCU, it’s definitely not going to be because the deposit wasn’t paid. But at the same time, if I tell my mother that we paid the deposit, she will absolutely make sure “E” doesn’t attend TCU.

    My whole thing is this: she can hate me all she wants. It no longer has the same effect on me. But she knows I do not play when it comes to my kids. “E” has done nothing wrong in any of this. In fact, why not reward her for her hard work? Why is it okay to pay tuition at SMU or Baylor, but not at TCU? Is it solely because that’s the school she wants to go to? If she hurts my kid just to get to me, there is a special place in hell for her.

    I keep trying to remind myself that one day she will have to answer for her actions. Why is it that some people can be so cruel and never seem to face any consequences? I am not counting on my mother to help. Even though she “made a promise to her daddy that there would be money left for the girls’ tuition,” there is absolutely nothing in it for her if she pays that tuition. But there is about $350,000 in it for her if she doesn’t.

    I don’t know how any of this is going to play out yet—TCU, the money, my mother. For now, I’m treating this blog like a journal. If someone ever stumbles across these words and realizes they aren’t alone in dealing with a parent like this, then writing it all down will have been worth it. Putting it here helps me process what’s happening instead of reacting to my mother’s actions—or her complete lack thereof.

  • Ghosting

    Texts sent to my mother pertaining to my grandfather’s funeral. All of which went unanswered. This was after she sent me the incorrect schedule for his services. *It’s a good thing I didn’t wait to hear from her about the flowers she said she would take care of. There wouldn’t have been an arrangement from his grandchildren.

    It’s been a little over a month since Pawpaw passed away. It’s been an emotional war within my being. This past weekend. our beloved Aunt Dot passed away. She was married to Pawpaw’s older brother, so, she was his sister-in-law.

    Before Pawpaw’s funeral, I reached out to my mother about the funeral times, flowers for the service, and a photo album that I feel rightfully belongs to me. Crickets. She ghosted me. I don’t know why I expected anything different. After Pawpaw’s funeral, I knew I was done. I couldn’t do this “low contact,” and I had to try my hand at ZERO contact again. I told myself that I wasn’t going to cave into her wild stories of breast cancer, or whatever manipulative tactic she had up her sleeve. Blocked. I sent her an email, well to “Jackie,” introducing her to the maniac, psychopathic, mother whom is a direct spawn of Satan himself. I wanted to let her know that she could no longer pull the wool over my eyes. I could see her exactly for who she IS. The devil himself should be extremely proud of his creation. Evil. Calculated. Long game on point. I completely underestimated her ability to control narratives, plant seeds, and keep everyone is this bubble of a life that is not what meets the eye. Anywho. The day before Aunt Dot’s funeral, I found out through text that she had passed. And it wasn’t from my mother, it was merely a text asking for a headcount for the lunch prior to the service. Not from my mom, or her new husband who loves to text me on behalf of my mother, like I’m the difficult one. Open your eyes Brian. She is about to obliterate you and you have no clue.

    The girls and I attended the funeral of course, but afterwards “Jackie,” pulled my girls aside to discuss our Pawpaw’s will. Now, I’m not the one who’s savvy about funeral/estate etiquette, but I do know that there are places to discuss a will and places not to discuss those things. So there she was telling them that Pawpaw left them money and she needed their socials, c’mon. I was right there. But you were using your manipulative ways to try and show my girls that you are only trying to help them. You’re not. You said what you knew needed to be said. Oh how cunning you are. But you my dear, underestimated my children. They can see your true colors, the wolf in sheep’s clothing, without my help. They will never be team Jackie. Let me have this win. They see you for you. While you were so caught up in destroying me, they were watching from the sidelines. They have read your texts, heard you speak, saw the anger and hatred in your eyes, and they sure as hell remember you leaving them out of the family remembrance video. I pity your pour miserable life. You’re just a tiny little person on the inside who hates themselves so you take your hatred of yourself and TRY to put it on us. We don’t want it. We don’t want to have to answer to God the same way you will have to. That is when I will be vindicated. I don’t need it while here on earth. I know that once I die, things will be made right.

    Which brings me to today. Pawpaw made it quite clear that he wanted to pay for Emma’s college. He told you (my mom). I told you. We all know. So tell me why when I texted you informing you that Emma was accepted into TCU with a 120k scholarship over four years, I have yet to hear from you? Because you are trying to regain control over me by holding Emma’s college tuition over my head. You want me to BEG you to answer me. It ain’t happening. In fact, quite the opposite. You are doing nothing but validating what a piece of shit person you are. I know you saw my text. Are you thinking if you don’t pay for Emma’s college with Pawpaw’s estate that I am just going to let that happen? No ma’am. You’ve underestimated me if you really think I won’t take your greedy ungrateful ass to court and sue you for everything that you have. Which you don’t deserve. You don’t deserve anything that has been handed to you. You don’t appreciate the work that Pawpaw put in to make his land worth what it is today. You just want the money. You didn’t see him out there every weekend, clearing the land, bailing hay, counting heads of cattle, searching for momma cows struggling to give birth. You have no fucking clue how hard he worked. Anyhow, I am ready for the legal battle. Hope you are too. Cause I know without a doubt, you have underestimated how hard I fight for my kids. Probably because you have never fought for me, in fact, you were the one doing the complete opposite when I was just a kid. You created FAKE problems and punished me according to your imaginary accusations. Now that I have done some research, I understand that EVERYTHING you ever accused me over my 44 year lifetime, are things that YOU did. That you are guilty of, and the only way for you to convince yourself that you are perfect, you trick your fucked up brain into believing that is was me that fucked up as bad as you did. Wow. Mic drop. That’s gotta suck. Knowing you’re a fuck up. Cause I know I am an honest person, never have I stolen anything and NEVER have treated anyone as poorly as you have. And I sure as hell don’t hide behind the scripture acting holier than thou. Bring it on pimpin’

    . I promise you that I know shit about you and what you have done, things that I know you are in denial about. So, let’s go. I’m ready. I’ve got a cavalry behind me, especially when it comes to my kids.

    I tried to tell you that your mask was slipping. Your ugliness is really showing.

  • Last Straw

    It’s now been about a month and a half since Pawpaw (my maternal grandfather) passed away. My mother’s actions or lack there of were visible for everyone to see, not just me. For the past 44 years, the remarks, the silent treatment, the looks of disgust and hatred towards me, the outburst, the yelling, the constant accusations, the sneaky story telling (spreading rumors), were always done behind closed doors. Hey mom. your mask is slipping.

    On December 19th, I got the call I knew was coming, but it was the call I had been dreading. This is how my mother broke the news to me. “Pawpaw has fallen. Because of the blood thinners, he has a brain bleed. He is at home on hospice so he can be comfortable.” I was stunned. The call caught me off guard. My husband and I were driving from Michigan to Texas with our granddaughter for the holidays. We still had 12 hours or so to go. My hands were tied, I couldn’t go do the only thing I know to do when there’s so much information to process and so many questions, and that’s stay busy. I can’t stay busy in a truck. Alone with my thoughts. So many questions. The next call I received was from my Aunt Cissy, my Pawpaw’s sister. She wanted to make sure that I was aware of what was going on with Pawpaw. I told her that my mom had just called me. Here’s the catch, Pawpaw had fallen THREE days before my mother called me. He fell while I was still in Texas, HOURS before I got on the plane to head to Michigan. I would have never left. I would have been right there by his side.My intrusive thoughts went straight into overdrive. Why didn’t my mom tell me sooner? Before I could even finish that thought, I countered with “she’s got a lot on her plate.” Making excuses for her actions. I’ve done that more times than I can count. I only ever wanted to see the good in her. I forced myself to believe that it was all in my head. The death of my grandfather, her father, showed me everything I had been denying. My mom showed me just what she is capable of.

    We made it home to Texas. I had been communicating with my mother on the best time to head over to Pawpaw’s so that I would have the chance to say my goodbyes,

    The emotional pain is so extreme and intense that it hurts to exist. I don’t know what’s worse, the missed moments with Pawpaw, or knowing that my mom intentionally made sure I missed those moments.

    Each time we spoke, she’d give me a later time, and then a later time, even went as far as to tell me that she was in Dallas, making a couple of stops, one being Starbucks (priorities), to meet her in a couple of hours. A little over an hour later, she calls to tell me Pawpaw had already passed away. I still didn’t put two and two together. But when that math started mathing, I couldn’t lie to myself any longer. I could see my mother and her actions clearly. I couldn’t make excuses for her, not this time.

    • He fell Wednesday morning, 7 am ish, mom called me Friday evening, 6 ish.
    • My brother had time to catch a flight from Colorado, and see Pawpaw TWICE before my mom even called to let me know.
    • Mom was in Dallas, a trip a little shy of two hours, but she made it there in a little over an hour, after the two stops? You weren’t in Dallas, found that out from another family member.

    It gets better.

    I haven’t been to a lot of funerals, a few family members, great grandparents, my grandmother when I was super you, so I am not too familiar with the logistics of who does what when it comes to a funeral. I before I left Pawpaw’s, I told her that my husband and I would purchase a flower arrangement. Mom replied with she would take care of it. I told her just let me know how much it is, and we will pay for it. She agreed. The funeral wasn’t going to before Christmas, which either way, the holidays were hard. I hadn’t heard from my mom until the 26th or so, in which she sent me a very cut and dry text, informing me of the date and the time of the funeral and visitation and that if anything changed she would keep me posted. Didn’t mention anything about the flowers. Knowing my mother, and the shady shit I know she is capable of doing, I told my husband that we just going to go to a local first and order them ourselves. That florist just happened to be the same florist that my mother had reached out to about flowers for the funeral. I didn’t mention to my mom that I had ordered flowers. The obituary made it to the local paper about the same time, maybe the 27th, and that little voice in my head told me to make sure I had the correct schedule according to what was printed in the paper. I didn’t, and I guess my mom didn’t think that was important.

    Day before the funeral, still haven’t heard anything else from my mom. I sent her a text and asked her if she would bring a photo album to me that came from my great grandparents. She told me “I’m not sure which one, are you sure I have it?” Yes I am sure! She and I had a conversation not too long ago about this photo album. She literally described it as “the photo album that documents every day of the first three years of your life photo album.” Ghosted me, She didn’t reply. A couple of hours later, I sent her a couple more texts, one letting her know that we ordered flowers, and one telling her that I got the correct times from the obituary. Still nothing, crickets from my mother’s end.

    There’s more to my grandfather’s funeral. She left me and my family out of the memorial video. When she did speak to me at the funeral it was with anger and for what, I have no clue. I told her I forgave her…. she shrugged me off and said “whatever Kelly.” At that point, I was forgiving her for the last 44 years, but she reached out to my husband and my daughters with her realization that she didn’t include us in the video. Still managed to place the blame on everyone around her. It was a good thing I ordered the flowers, my mom didn’t “take care of it” like she said she would. For the first time I knew what to expect from my mother.

  • Intrusive Thoughts

    Everyday, no matter what I am doing, I am hit with either a rush of emotions, a memory I would rather forget, or a memory that was long ago buried, at least I thought it was buried. Nothing triggers these emotions or memories. I am so consumed with wanting to right the wrongs, to make my mother “pay” for her cruel actions, or for her to feel just a smidge of the pain that she has bestowed upon me. Not to mention an apology, a sincere heartfelt apology would be amazing! Ownership. Accountability. Yeah, no, ain’t happening. I know that, like I know KNOW none of that will ever happen, but the little girl inside me yearns for it. My mother is still winning. She still has one up on me. More like 2,759 up on me, but hey, who’s counting??

    Here’s intrusive thought #1 (cause I have to start somewhere.) My mother has attempted to (and in my mind, successfully done so) rewrite our family tree which removes me completely, or my mother is not my mother but my sister?? I don’t think she has decided the best route to take. According to Facebook, I am non-existent. You might see a sliver of my left arm in a photo that I was entirely cropped out of. At one point, she went as far as to describe herself as the proud mother of three boys. Huh. Ok. However, according to the family tree “presentation” or “picture book” she created, she never puts a label on our relationship. Here’s the rundown on the family tree picture book. My great grandparents had seven children. Each of the seven children, has their own family and that is how this book is divided up. Sibling one: their spouse, their children, the grandchildren, etc. Then it’s on to sibling two, on and on. Just like an actual family tree, just this is done more with pictures, and details of who is in the pictures. But when you get to our section, which is sibling two, I’m not a grandchild. I am in the same category as my mother and her sister. Then there’s a picture with my mom and the three boys, my Aunt and “her” children, my brother’s and their spouses, and last but not least a picture of my two daughters, “Kelly’s daughters.” Not Jackie and her four children, or listing of the grandchildren then the great grandchildren. Just a random photo that doesn’t label any relationships.

    Now, there’s a war within my brain, in which one side is making up excuses for my mother, and the other side knows for a fact that everything that my mother does is deliberate. Everything.

    More examples, obituaries. It’s always my mom and her boys, then Paula and her children (that’s a whole nother rabbit hole), then myself and my kids. I always thought it should be my mother (husband), their children Kelly (spouse) child 1, child 2; brother (spouse), brother (spouse), brother. Eldest to youngest. I could be wrong. Certainly not Jackie (spouse) their children Brother 1, 2 , and three; Kelly.

    Photos. None in my mother’s house that include pictures of me. For years, I never gave two shits about it, actually preferred it, I don’t consider myself photogenic. Never got invited to any weddings of my siblings, family reunions, special celebrations…. my mothers has done a fine job at keeping me in a box and sheltered from her public crowd.

    My grandfather’s funeral is another example. She made the family photo memorial video that played up until the service, and afterwards. Every family member, my grandfather’s friends, classmates, were all in this video. Except me and my family. She said she just forgot to put us in the video. Sure. She explained that she just had too many people sending her pictures that it slipped her mind to include us.

    What bothers me the most, is that not one person in my family, especially my siblings, my “dad,” or anyone else, has ever called my mom on her shit. On her immature pettiness. I’m constantly wondering what I did that was so bad, that would make her disown me in public. I mean, if you’re going to disown somebody, don’t do it half ass and string the person along, offering them crumbs of your attention every so often. Let them be. Why be so cruel? I know I am not the only person who sees what she does and says nothing. Meanwhile, her actions, her deliberate intentions to completely destroy me, are successful. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why I don’t deserve my mother’s love. Especially when her love is all I’ve ever wanted. To make her proud.