Not a Christmas Card
May. 12th, 2016 08:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
baronessekatThere has always been a slight tension in my mother's side of the family. At least it always felt like that. I tried to ignore it as I grew up. Up until I became peripherally involved.
For me it started at my father's wake. My Aunt Donna and Uncle Dave, my Godparents, indicated it was too far to drive to come to his wake/calling hours. 45 minutes to an hour was too far. Yes it was February but it was an incredibly mild February. Friends drove 4+ hours to come for the calling hours but my own family couldn't drive 45 minutes.
Then my Grandparents were put in a nursing home and the great clean out of their HUGE farm house began. My grandparents were old school and named my Uncle Dave the executor because he was the eldest male child. Not the eldest child. Not necessarily the most competent. Needless to say that my mother, the eldest, was annoyed. On top of that things started disappearing out of my grandparents' home. Some of which another uncle saw at a local flea market.
Then my grandparents passed and other items that had been verbally promised to certain members of the family ended up in my godparents' home because "there was nothing in the will saying they were specifically to go to you". Then if there were things that we did want from the estate we had to buy it. There are pieces that my grandmother had told me that I should take that I ended up not being able to, because I could not afford the appraised market value of the antique.
There is more I could go on about on how the tension between my mother and her brother increased. Mostly... no completely revolving around the execution of the estate. It was ugly.
Flash forward 5ish years and my mother passes away. I honestly do not recall my Uncle Dave ever once coming up to me at her memorials to say anything remotely like "I'm sorry for your loss" or offer any kind of condolence. To be fair he might have, but I don't remember it. There certainly wasn't any offer of help with dealing with the estate/cleaning of the house, my own move back to the Doma like my other Uncle did.
That was the last time I physically saw my Uncle Dave or any of that side of the family, though I am facebook friends with his children, my cousins - not that we ever really converse there.
My only contact with them has been through the mostly impersonal Christmas Cards every year. Just signed. No note or anything. Except for 4 or 5 years ago when the card had a message in it. "Your uncle is still in the hospital after his second amputation due to problems with his diabetes." That's how I found out my Uncle, my godfather, had been in the hospital and had had his second below the knee amputation. When I asked my Uncle Alan why no one had called me or Sis to let us know about the situation, he said he told them to call us as it wasn't his place and reminded them that they were my godparents and they should reach out. Never happened.
I sent him a get well card and some activity books to help him during his hospitalization. Never heard a peep from anyone. To this day I don't know if he even got them.
After that it was back to just signed Christmas Cards. I stopped making overtures. It was a why bother.
Then last night my Uncle Alan called. Dave had died that afternoon. He apparently had been in the hospital for over a month due to congestive heart failure and out of control diabetes. As before, no one bothered to let me or Sis know. I had seen via facebook that my cousins were in town, but had written it off to just visiting family. Had I known he was in the hospital, I would have gone. Buffalo General is not that far from me. Hell, of all the blood kin, his eldest son and I are the ones that live the closest to the hospital. I would have been there, helped to sit vigil. I may not have respected the man anymore, but he was still family. I could have put aside differences for duty, responsibility, for what was right.
But that is now one more drop in the bucket. I doubt now that there is anything more I can do.
I will go to the services when they finally make plans. That I did tell my Uncle Alan to please let me know when and where. I will go. I will say goodbye and mourn not just a lost family member, but a lost relationship.
And as I told Sis, when I called her with the news. At least we didn't find out via a Christmas card months later.
For me it started at my father's wake. My Aunt Donna and Uncle Dave, my Godparents, indicated it was too far to drive to come to his wake/calling hours. 45 minutes to an hour was too far. Yes it was February but it was an incredibly mild February. Friends drove 4+ hours to come for the calling hours but my own family couldn't drive 45 minutes.
Then my Grandparents were put in a nursing home and the great clean out of their HUGE farm house began. My grandparents were old school and named my Uncle Dave the executor because he was the eldest male child. Not the eldest child. Not necessarily the most competent. Needless to say that my mother, the eldest, was annoyed. On top of that things started disappearing out of my grandparents' home. Some of which another uncle saw at a local flea market.
Then my grandparents passed and other items that had been verbally promised to certain members of the family ended up in my godparents' home because "there was nothing in the will saying they were specifically to go to you". Then if there were things that we did want from the estate we had to buy it. There are pieces that my grandmother had told me that I should take that I ended up not being able to, because I could not afford the appraised market value of the antique.
There is more I could go on about on how the tension between my mother and her brother increased. Mostly... no completely revolving around the execution of the estate. It was ugly.
Flash forward 5ish years and my mother passes away. I honestly do not recall my Uncle Dave ever once coming up to me at her memorials to say anything remotely like "I'm sorry for your loss" or offer any kind of condolence. To be fair he might have, but I don't remember it. There certainly wasn't any offer of help with dealing with the estate/cleaning of the house, my own move back to the Doma like my other Uncle did.
That was the last time I physically saw my Uncle Dave or any of that side of the family, though I am facebook friends with his children, my cousins - not that we ever really converse there.
My only contact with them has been through the mostly impersonal Christmas Cards every year. Just signed. No note or anything. Except for 4 or 5 years ago when the card had a message in it. "Your uncle is still in the hospital after his second amputation due to problems with his diabetes." That's how I found out my Uncle, my godfather, had been in the hospital and had had his second below the knee amputation. When I asked my Uncle Alan why no one had called me or Sis to let us know about the situation, he said he told them to call us as it wasn't his place and reminded them that they were my godparents and they should reach out. Never happened.
I sent him a get well card and some activity books to help him during his hospitalization. Never heard a peep from anyone. To this day I don't know if he even got them.
After that it was back to just signed Christmas Cards. I stopped making overtures. It was a why bother.
Then last night my Uncle Alan called. Dave had died that afternoon. He apparently had been in the hospital for over a month due to congestive heart failure and out of control diabetes. As before, no one bothered to let me or Sis know. I had seen via facebook that my cousins were in town, but had written it off to just visiting family. Had I known he was in the hospital, I would have gone. Buffalo General is not that far from me. Hell, of all the blood kin, his eldest son and I are the ones that live the closest to the hospital. I would have been there, helped to sit vigil. I may not have respected the man anymore, but he was still family. I could have put aside differences for duty, responsibility, for what was right.
But that is now one more drop in the bucket. I doubt now that there is anything more I can do.
I will go to the services when they finally make plans. That I did tell my Uncle Alan to please let me know when and where. I will go. I will say goodbye and mourn not just a lost family member, but a lost relationship.
And as I told Sis, when I called her with the news. At least we didn't find out via a Christmas card months later.
