The most negative relationship in my entire life involves my extended family. We are not close at all on my Mom’s side because of the issues started by one of my aunts. The bitch is dead, but the damage can never be undone.
Let’s start at the very beginning. My Mom was the youngest of 13 children. Mom was born in 1925 and her parents were killed in an automobile accident when she was only about 1 year old. Mom was placed in an orphanage, which I found strange because there were older siblings that were already married and adults who could have taken her in. For whatever reason that never happened.
Mom was eventually adopted by a great family and raised in a small town hundreds of miles from her birthplace but in the same state. Mom grew up knowing that she was adopted because her foster parents told her when she was in her early teens. Mom graduated high school and met my Dad and they married. Fast forward through some years in which Mom tried to locate her siblings and some of them were trying to locate her without success.
Dad’s job led him to the town where I would be born. As luck would have it, one of Mom’s sisters lived in that town. They established contact with each other and found, to no one’s surprise, that they had almost nothing in common. Mom had been raised by a forward-thinking family to be independent and to think for herself. Mom viewed marriage to Dad as a partnership and he agreed with her. The aunt, Gladys, never even learned to drive a car. I was the only child that Mom and Dad would have because Mom was simply not built to birth babies due to her short size. Gladys had several children well before I was born because there was a generation gap between the two sisters in the first place.
I observed Mom when I was a small child as she tried to build some semblance of a sister-to-sister relationship with Gladys. Gladys always looked down on Mom as if Gladys were better or more superior. This irritated Mom, but she carried on with trying to change how things were between them. Dad often told her that she was wasting her time, but Mom was stubborn in her own right and didn’t give up easily.
After I was born the enmity between Dad and Gladys burst out into the open. They could not stand one another and I was solidly behind my Dad in the struggle. I never understood the origins of the feud, but at some point, it no longer mattered.
The last straw for me was when I was 7 years old and Gladys made one of her bitchy comments in front of me and my parents. “Perhaps if your Mom and Dad ever amount to anything, you’ll live in a nice house like mine.” That was the quote that sealed Gladys into the place of undying hatred from me.
I was able to maintain a good relationship with one of Gladys’ daughters, my first cousin, but her children, my second cousins were under the influence of Gladys as they grew up. Therefore I was never close with my second cousins although we were roughly the same age. Gladys and her bitchiness kept me from ever having a good relationship with the extended family on Mom’s side. It was what it was, and it is what it is. No apologies from the second cousins will ever undo the hurt and the mistrust that I felt growing up. We will never be close and it is all because Gladys was a bitch that shone brighter than all the other bitches of her time. She didn’t even bother to attend either Dad’s or Mom’s funerals. She avoided the events because she knew that I would trash her mean ass in front of everyone, and I am glad that she didn’t soil either funeral with her presence.
Gladys died 10 years after Mom. I didn’t attend her funeral. Her bitchy spirit lives on in the town where I grew up, another reason to see the rest of the world rather than ever go back there.