These are email exchanges that followed the ones in the previous post. It’s getting even more telling and interesting and even a little disturbing.
Why am I all of a sudden so brave with my emails to a mom who would rather me be dead? Well, around this time is when I started to toy with the idea that my sister, Kristen, is actually not my “friend” at all and that she is the puppeteer behind my Dr. Seuss Life: A Life of Opposites. My sister, I’m beginning to uncover, is the Hitler and my mom is the Himler. I’m cracking the case, here, and (almost) in the nick of time.
This is the collage of photos I sent to my mom. There are many more sad face photos that are not included…
This is my me, my sister, and our mom 6 days before she died…
I think that photo with Lucille and Estelle was taken at a party at your Mom’s house that I attended with my husband. I remember your Mom’s white outfit. She served a delicious pineapple drink for which I begged for the recipe. That was the first time I met her in person. I found her to be unfriendly and dismissive.
Your mother was sure lacking in empathy! She blames your so-called “issues” on the Klann side and never reassures you that you are actually very much loved by her. Never answered your questions and didn’t seem to understand the actual meaning behind those questions. I would have been heartbroken to hear my daughter at age 50 saying she never thought I loved or even liked her. That would be life shattering. A huge deal!! Your mother may have been the actual narcissist. She didn’t seem to get what you were talking about. How sad. No wonder you looked sad in photos.
By the way, you look much younger than 50.
My mother was a sick soul. A very very sick soul. If I had been aware that the “illness” was their’s and not mine, perhaps life would have been “better”. It’s better now since the multiple revelations since my mom died. The truth is always revealed upon death (hence the payment of your transgressions after death and before entering Gan Eden (the Garden of Eden known universally as heaven). Prophetically, I write in one of the emails “before it’s too late”. I definitely got it (love) during her short infirm and with my 3 separate visits as she lay dying) where which she said to me, “You’re a good daughter” along with a few other notable statements. What causes me insurmountable discomfort is that very few people choose to die with hate or unsettled things. My mother was forced to by the evil around her–my sister, my Aunt, my brother-in-law, and both of his parents (a Greek Orthodox Priest at Nativity of Christ Greek Orthodox Church in Novato, California (retired, mostly, I think and thank G-d)). I know my mom was in spiritual pain during this time because they were not letting her give me the love I so needed and deserved from the start. They knew she wanted to “rite” the wrong of her “will” but they had complete control. So much so that the last time I went to see my dying mother, my brother-in-law approached me from behind as I was sitting with my mom with my right hand on her forehead and my left hand over her hands, put his hands under and around my waist and literally tried to lift me up out of my seat. When that didn’t work, he sent his 80-year-old mother (wife of aforementioned Greek “Priest” at me to do the job). Still, I kept sitting, with both my hands touching my dying mother. Then my Aunt Janet walked around my mom’s hospice bed to her feet and was threatening to call the police. I had every right to be there and perhaps I should have let her call them. I had only moments to figure out my next move. I chose to kiss my mom goodbye, tell her I’m sorry I can’t stay, but I will pray and pray for her and for a peaceful as possible journey “home”. Sure, I could’ve let the cops come (should have, probably) but I chose to not let more chaos ensue for my mother as she lay dying. My poor mom. Thank G-d it’s all good now for her. As for the, and her, legacy of evil, it continues. As I’ve said, evil doesn’t stop until, well, it’s stopped.