'AITA for overreacted to learning about the true fate of my little sister's remains?' PART 4-5
"AITA for overreacted to learning about the true fate of my little sister's remains?"
Here is the link to the first part of the story.
Me again for the fourth time. Sorry. I know I've been posting a lot and will move somewhere else if it's unwanted, it's just been very helpful to post here and work through it. Around a month back my boss pressured me into not working Saturday like usual. I wasn't (still not) used to having nothing to do on Saturday anymore.
I went to the park. It was overcast and muggy and gross from rain. My sister would have been complaining and asking to go to a restaurant instead and people watch there.
I probably looked like a creep while my mind raced. It was something to do. The deadline my mother gave me weighed like the sword of Damocles and I felt anxious and angry every time I thought about it or noticed the date. It was consuming me.
I lost my sister. I lost my mother and stepfather. I think I lost my mind. But I haven't lost my brother. I haven't lost my father. I have a steady job I enjoy. So I stopped trying to talk to my mom. I let the deadline pass. She started reaching out to me instead.
First just calls but not leaving a message, and texts asking if I was at home or if I can call her. Then her Facebook posts about isolation causing mental illness in the elderly and the voicemails from my stepfather asking me to open the door to communication and reconciliation.
Then she started calling me at work, or in the middle of the night, and the one time I picked up because I didn't check the caller ID, she immediately told me to stop being cruel. I hung up and blocked them both.
My stepfather came to my door with a box, waiting there for ten minutes before he left it behind, as per a neighbor who noticed and was concerned about a stranger on my doorstep.
It was full of a bunch of pictures and junk I made for her when I was a child. Stupid school level arts crafts. I burned them all. It was strangely cathartic, like I took my first breath after being under water.
She tried using dad to pass along messages to me. My dad refused her immediately, asked me what I was planning to do and how I was feeling, and when I said I was done with her, he joined in with that too.
So did my brother, mostly. He commented on one of her passive aggressive "this generation doesn't know how to take care of their families" posts by hinting toward the grave, but nothing else.
It's been almost two weeks now since she last tried to speak to me. I'm trying to just consider her and the ashes gone, just like my sister is, and focus on the memories and how I can honor my sister as she was.
I recently started with a new therapist and he's been helpful so far but it's early on. At least I feel a little less disconnected from him like I did the previous one. He specializes in grief and trauma.
Therapy is as difficult as I remember it. It's hard to process the fact I'm dealing with her loss again, recontextualized with such a deliberate betrayal, but also the loss of the relationship and trust I had with my mom.
It was never perfect, but it's hard for a kid not to want that bond with their parent. It's even harder to realize how deep the lies went over the years and how it continues. I find myself wondering if she's crazy from grief or if she never loved me.
I've set aside $2,000 into a separate bank account and every time I buy myself something nice, or spend the money on my family, or anything like that, I use that account. My brother and dad and I plan to go on a trip to the campground my sister loved and I got the reservations.
I bought some flowers. I went to the restaurant that her and I used to go to and it felt like she'd just left the room and would be back any minute. In an inexplicable way, she kind of is. Having this money set aside is kind of forcing me to do something with the money other than focus on the plot and her ashes.
I'm trying to work less but that's almost the hardest part. I'm averaging 70-75 hours a week still, because it does help a lot to be able to do something I am good at, enjoy, and keeps my mind occupied.
My sister would often try to use her minimal amount of fun money on us (mom, dad, stepfather, me and my brother) and her friends before she would even think about herself. She was a big giver.
She would use money she got for chores and from her own birthday and Christmas to make Father's Day, Mother's Day, our birthdays and Christmases special. She'd always have extra on her to buy something for her classmates who were hungry or thirsty. I used to lecture her about her spending because of it.
I also used to sneak extra money into her little bank and I'm sure she realized but basically the point is it almost feels like I'm channeling her with this. How she would want to try to get me a new sketchbook before she bought the book she'd been talking about for months, and she would absolutely not want me to buy the plot.
She'd hate it if I did and tell me not to even think about it. I don't know how I haven't washed away by crying but I'm crying again. I'm ending this post here. Thank you again to everyone. It means a lot.
Here were the top rated comments from readers in response to the OP's post:
It will get better little by little, the more time passes that your mother is out of your life. The anger you feel won't fully go away, but you in a sense 'get used to it' to where it doesn't affect you as much. A scar will form over the wounds on your heart, and then she and all of this won't hit you so hard and there won't be any more tears. You are strong. You will be okay.
I’m so sorry for your loss. Just breathe and feel how you feel. Don’t let anyone tell you how to grieve. Know that your sister will always be in your heart. I’ve seen company’s that make a pendant with finger prints etched in. Perhaps you can have that made. Wishing you only happy memories.
You're on the of healing, you your brother and dad and you all have one another. Your mom has not only lost one child but now she's lost all of them because of her actions.
Four and a half months later, the OP returned with an update.
It's been some time since I last posted here or elsewhere (and my last post on my profile was not wonderful.) I don't realistically think I'll need or want to update again after this but I do plan to keep the account because I've also been lurking in grief communities which has been a big help too.
I just know I posted a lot, sorry. Said it once before but it has been really helpful to have this community's support. It was actually really surprising and reassuring, it helped a lot to feel less like I was to blame for it all.
I have my sister's finger prints. I had to call again and again and I felt terrified they would be like my mother, but the person I spoke to was so incredibly apologetic for not having delivered sooner.
It was kind of nice, in a selfish way, to have someone apologize for not following through on a promise to me. Dad also found a footprint of hers in clay from when she was a baby, one of few things my mother let him have.
Working on finding a tattoo artist now. I'm not dead and I'm sober since effing up again in August. (Tomorrow marks 100 days.) Dad is doing great, he spends a lot of time at a community center that has scheduled events and outings for older people to get together, and my brother is engaged to his girlfriend.
She's wonderful, she makes him a happier person, and she has a knack of reading people and making you feel like she's always genuinely happy to see you. I think in the coming months I might see if she wants to spend some time together too, to bond. It might be nice to know her better and spend time one on one.
My mother showed up to visit me September 14th. I let her in. She actually admitted she was wrong; didn't stay that track, of course not, but she lead with that hook. The first words out of her mouth were an apology. "I'm so sorry I hurt you with her ashes."
She even seemed like she meant it at first. I told her I didn't want to talk about anything to do with my sister then she boundary stomped (I AM learning from therapy, I'm just slow and dumb) she started guilt tripping me, weeping about how this whole time she was always just trying to make things right but we couldn't come to a reasonable compromise.
When she did it she couldn't get over her own pain and she was sorry, and "life is finite but a mother's love for EACH of her children is infinite, I let my pain overwhelm showing you that love," and how she kept trying to find a way to fix what she said to me so thoughtlessly.
I believe her admitting it was thoughtless but I don't believe the situation was thoughtless. She offered to separate the ashes and she lied for years with many chances to come clean.
But she said her attempts to mend things kept falling through and we wouldn't help her find a solution "for us all to have what we wanted." I didn't ask for elaboration. Call me stupid I let it go even though I am more certain than ever that she did something less than legal with my sister's ashes.
I'm actually really proud of how I handled her apology, how it compares to how I would have just accepted it before; thanking her for it but not forgiving or absolving her. She didn't seem to notice I never said anything like "It's okay" or "I forgive you" or even "I understand."
I didn't bring up the plot or ashes again. I let myself not quite pretend we were fine, like this never happened, but I just tried to see if I could even stand to be around her anymore. We just sat together and talked about banal, unimportant things and her work and what she's been up to.
Other than stringing me and my brother along about our sister's remains. I even hugged her. I ruminated over that hug, that whole visit, for a while after. I have the vocabulary now to know she was hoovering me, deliberately trying to get me to come back into her sphere of influence so she could control me and get whatever it is she gets out of my emotional distress, but in the moment I was stupid.
When she was leaving I promised her that I would call more, but I wasn't ready to keep seeing her in person again. She did not like that I didn't let her come back in my life without any sort of barriers or limits.
She refused to understand, she had banked on this working on me: coming over unannounced against my wishes, empty promises that she loved me, and unsubtly blaming me for the fact she refuses to tell me the full story or take accountability. Unfortunately it would have before. Again,terrible night all around but proud that I learned better.
She told me "keeping yourself alone is an ugly way to live, you'll regret it later" and how my sister would hate how I'm destroying the family over a mistake that she has tried many times to fix, how it was a mistake made by a mother suffering a loss I will never understand, and we all stood together after her death but I have single-handedly ruined everyone’s healing process.
I know ultimately my reaction gave her exactly what she wanted, a chance to play the victim because her child called her horrible things when she was "just trying to make amends."
My response then was like projectile vomit but curses and vulgarity and sheer cruelty, calling her words I have never once in my life uttered before. I told her she has been ruining our lives ever since she broke things off with Dad, that she apparently loves shaking people up and squeezing them for her own entertainment and satisfaction.
How she is a horrible human being that I wished never procreated because she has done nothing but bring misery into this world, the only good thing to come of her was reduced to dirt and rainwater because of her own selfishness. Things from previous years came up, big and small. The time when I came out.
My first serious boyfriend that she freaked out over and made disgusting comments to. My track meet that she missed in favor of screwing around with my current step-father. The fact she treated me like an inferior back-up to my brother. Every single time she made me feel small in comparison to her love for herself.
Again I feel like an idiot: I danced to her tune, one way or another, and gave her a reaction that validated her feeling of being the REAL victim. I can picture it now: "Can you believe my ungrateful, evil child? Yelling at me and cursing at me for apologizing for a little misunderstanding." At this point I doubt she would bother gendering me right though.
She ended up slamming my door on my hand, threatening to pour her ashes down the drain. I followed her to her car and just kept screaming. I have never felt such rage and irrational panic flow through me. She drove off and I haven't entertained her BS since.
She IS still trying, but I know I have to wait it out. My therapist likened it to a toddler used to crying and getting a cookie, now doing it repeatedly in hopes that the cookie will come.
The longer I deny her the cookie, the more likely she is to give up and search out another source of the emotional boost she gets out of it because I made it too much effort to try to get it out of me.
Pretty sure that has already happened with my brother, since she nosed around to ask what he was up to and I know my brother's tendencies and the way he's felt toward her ever since this began.
During the fight I started experiencing some palpitations and vertigo, as well as breathlessness and fatigue and eventually later on nearly passing out. But I ignored it then because I was angry and focused on the fight, then later because it was only intermittent and I never actually completely passed out.
Also I didn't want to bother with it or deal with it and frankly didn't care. I cared about my job, my work, I cared about my brother and father, I really didn't have it in me to care about an issue with my heart. It was at the point I debated canceling my yearly check up.
Thought process was a little like if there was anything wrong I didn't want to find it, not sure if I wanted it to get to the point of no return or just didn't want one more thing to go wrong.
Been through a few therapists at this point, to the point I wondered if I just don't want to feel better or put the work in to fix myself, but the one at the time he hinted that it could be considered passive suicidal ideation and that therefore I was a risk to myself.
Pretty much a false threat but enough to push me. So I agreed to go to the doctor, but unfortunately had a minor incident beforehand and had to go to the emergency room.
Stress induced cardiomyopathy. Basically I literally worked myself up so much for so long my heart said "I want to have a temper tantrum too." Honestly in the end it wasn't that bad, sounds worse than it was, looked more than it was, because some lifestyle changes and medicine were enough. Time off work, reduced hours when I came back. No smoking.
My dad's still been calling to check in often and to chit chat but he's not doing it daily anymore and it's not like a big thing anymore, we're just talking. And my brother and his fiance have "just happened" to be in the area a dozen times since. But I do appreciate it when they come by, or dad does, because it's more fun to cook for them than just one person and my house is less quiet.
The neighbor that called 911 for me never really treated me any different, not about her having to do that for me, not about the fact I've had two very loud and messy confrontations that disturbed the peace. I'm grateful for it.
She came by with herbal tea and ready meals for me a couple times for the first few weeks and a jar opener to let me borrow, then surprised me with one of my own. But she didn't fuss over me or act like there was an elephant in the room either.
She just treated me as normal. I appreciated it so much but didn't know how to phrase my gratitude without feeling inadequate because I'm ashamed of my issue with my mother leaking into spaces where others could have overheard, but I settled for starting to bake.
I used to love it. So for while I was just dropping these packages of brownies and cookies at her doorstep like a weirdo. Thankfully she's not allergic to anything or diabetic so it wasn't as if I were repaying her kindness with something harmful.
I felt weird singling her out so I also made some stuff for my other neighbors and my dad and brother and sister-in-law. Dad used to joke when I got in a baking mood I was trying to fatten them up, but he hasn't. He's just said it's nice to see me acting a bit more like myself.
It's selfish of me and shows how self absorbed I am that I didn't know the family across the street was struggling until I delivered some to them, so I started giving them actual meals too instead of just sugar. At first I was afraid I was intruding but they haven't told me to back off since and it's been some time since I started.
It's been nice talking to him too about his struggle taking care of his wife and kids, or getting him to go out for some time with his buddies or getting some one on one time with his kids so caregiver fatigue doesn't get to him, or spending some normal hang-out time with her like watching movies, or helping do her makeup and nails, or cleaning the house up or grocery shopping, or helping with the boys.
I say helping with the kids but mostly just supervised distractions for them or getting them out of their hair for a little bit of time. It feels weird being leaned on by people outside my family.
I'm not good at grieving, or stress, I didn't handle either right, I'm not good at emotions and I'm still drowning some days, but I help where I can and I'm just glad that it's actual help. Plus the kids are cute.
The older one is delightfully opinionated about things like what blankets go with which sheets and which pillow needs to be in what order, and he enjoys playing games where he can boss me around and make a story, and the younger one was shy at first but now practically screams hello whenever he sees me and doesn't hesitate to tell me all about what I missed since the last time I saw him, every second.
I decorated for Halloween and even dressed up. It felt strangely nostalgic even though it was the first time for me doling out candy instead of trick or treating or doing nothing at home.
I didn't get all too many kids at first, but then I lost track of time and the kids and suddenly my bowl was empty. My across the street neighbors came through and I don't know how to put it.
I know the kids are dressed up but it kind of surprised me how many kids and parents I recognized and how many recognized me as they came by, but especially how positively they seemed to react?
I don't know. Makes me feel like I'm actually part of the neighborhood. It isn't like I was some recluse in the neighborhood before, but I didn't reach out much to others and when this mess started I was basically ignoring them. It was kind of nice to feel like they might actually enjoy having me as a neighbor.
Taking down the decorations was less fun than putting them up but I think I want to go bigger next year or see if there's anything in the community for events that maybe I could volunteer my time toward. If I remember right the theater used to run a few plays during October and the proceeds went to one of the high school's drama club.
I knew the more family oriented holidays would be difficult so I started preparing early. Getting a game plan in place with my current therapist (who is still not the best fit but feels more like what I need even if what she says is not what I want to hear), brother and dad, planning who to visit and when, how to handle any Mom Related Events, things to do to distract myself, just making plans in general.
But in the end I ate dinner with my family and it was lovely. My brother and his fiance hosted. It was a good time. I haven't laughed that much or spent time with my family in such a relaxed environment in a long time. I could breath.
I brought by some food to my neighbors across the street and a little gift basket each for both kids, and invited my next door neighbor over for pie and to join me in Christmas tree shopping the day after.
Christmas itself is going to be hard. I know it. I could go on about why, and how the camaraderie and goodwill and the feel-good-ness of everyone being together made it her favorite holiday. This is already so long.
My mother's husband apparently showed up at my house on thanksgiving per next door neighbor and dropped off a plate of food and a jar of cranberry sauce with a note. I threw it all out.
I plan to talk to my therapist about it and to realistically plan on what I want to do about the fact she and her husband keep dropping by my house. My brother is just so happy with his fiance, and she's genuinely a kind, funny person who just suits him and he lights up around her.
She asked if I would help with dress shopping (which is the ultimate proof she's a sweetheart, I'm as fashionable as a potato sack so she's only asking out of the kindness of her heart to invite me into an important part of her wedding preparation, which truly I'm grateful for)
Plus she's thinking of going back to finish her degree before marrying and listening to how my brother talks about her passion and drive and every other positive quality he admires is really sugary sweet, rot your teeth. I know they fight, everyone does, but they do handle those fights in a way I honestly have high hopes for them.
My brother and my future SIL (still not used to calling her that but I love it) haven't set a date exactly, especially if she does go back to school. It will be at least next year so they can save up.
I keep looking at the amount left of that original $2,000 I put aside and I could help a lot with that, or with her schooling. I don't know what I'll do in the end but I think that is the perfect use of the remainder.
I don't know what my mother is going to do with the rest of her life without any of her kids. Guess what? I don't care. I know I said similarly before but I have even more support now.
I have had a lot of help to recognize that what she's pulling is manipulation, not love. That helps keep me on the right track. The loss of her aches, like when you pull a rotted tooth, but I'm allowing myself to feel that pain instead of trying to fix it or numb it.
She isn't the mother I want her to be. She isn't even the sort of person I would willingly want to be friends with. I don't allow myself to check her socials. I have her and her husband blocked everywhere I can. I changed the locks a while back.
I don't allow myself to think much about her threat and what it means about the ashes. There's so much about this that hurts. I feel like I can't move on from my sister without it somehow being a betrayal, or like the ashes were actually inhibiting my grieving which makes me feel like I wasn't honoring her the right way.
It's hard to move on from my mother because it practically encoded in my DNA to love her. Plus I've never been that good about enforcing boundaries in regards to my loved ones. I'm working on it though. I'm realizing I'm not good at ending things or wrapping them up and I've been adding to this one update for a while now so it's gotten really long now.
There's more in my present than my sister. It feels callous and wrong but also like a good step to admit that. And I don't just mean my work, which was what I was relying on so much, or the endless chase after my mom and answers.
I'm spending time with my neighbors and doing things other than working, I'm getting out of my house, actually planning for longer than a couple weeks ahead. It feels weird. The hole is there and it's still so deep and gaping and painful just to look at.
But I don't feel anymore like the best I can do is teeter on the edge, I'm not falling in all the time or barely hanging in anymore. This time I think I actually have the support and the knowledge I need to be able to stay strong and not let my mother ruin things for me.
I'm going to post this then go out to dinner with my neighbor. Thank you to everyone who has helped me work through this absolutely nightmarish rollercoaster and to get to this point. I owe a lot to all of you. I never would have dreamed feeling even an ounce like I could ever come out of this spiral for a long time.
Here were the top rated comments from readers in response to the OP's final update:
Oh, I'm so proud of you! For your sobriety, standing up to your mother, going to therapy, trying to get your health under control, and actually getting out and spending time with people.
I'm just a random internet stranger, but please believe how proud I am of you. None of those things are easy at the best of times, and especially hard when you are dealing with grief. I wish you the best for your coming years.
Drinks and drunken friends are bad counselors They’re never gonna find out what happened to their sister’s / daughter’s remains. I’d never speak to that woman again.
She probably did something awful like chucked them in the trash and that’s why she won’t say where they are. Or… she just likes lording it over them. Torturing them with the secret.
This is one of the most strangest yet infuriating things I have read. Jesus what in the world is wrong with this mother?!?! Piece of work she is!