You always told me that family was the most important thing in the world. You always said we had to stick together, no matter what might happen. You always said you would be there for me, and be around, and a part of my life.
But you didn't mean it, did you? Because of you, I find myself partly sad, when I should be elated... wishing I had someone to call - when I should know I have someone to call. Let me tell you what sparked this letter: This weekend, just yesterday, your granddaughter crawled for the first time. I had thought she was just going to "roll" herself where she wanted to go, until she figured out how to walk - but no - yesterday, while we were at Andrew's mother's house - she took off crawling across the floor... and realized what she had done. She was so proud of herself, and I was so proud of her. Andrew's mom was practically jumping up and down she was so ecstatic that she got to see the first time she crawled... and in the back of my mind I just kept thinking how I wish I could call you to share this with you. But I couldn't. Even if you had a phone - and had not decided to insanely break ties with me this past November - I still would not have been able to fully share my joy with you. Why? Because you would have been cold, and lacked emotion for the situation because of your jealousy of Andrew's mother getting to be involved, instead of you.
When you were still here in NY, after munchkin was born, things momentarily seemed promising... On Monday - your day off of work you were coming out here to see us, and things seemed good. Then of course the shit hit the fan with your cars - because you feel you have the right - above anyone else to "fly under the radar" of the police and drive a totally illegal car, and things just began to deteriorate from their. Your boss was horrible to you... so you were quitting - oh - but wait... your boss got FIRED just before you quit. Quitting your job, and the fact that you felt you were "mistreated" by the LAWS of NY were your reasons for leaving... just over a month after your granddaughter was born. And I had to sit there and listen to you, and Matt (my "little" brother) bitch about how much you hated NY and how you were going to never come back here if you could help it - as you held my baby girl for the last time before you left. And things had seemed so promising. You were making the most money you had made in a long time at your job, you had gotten around having no car by taking the trains and the busses... and you were coming to visit me once a week. But it wasn't enough for you - was it? Why? Why is it never enough? You had the gaul to say to me "your brother and I could be living under a bridge and you would just drive right past us, wouldn't you?" How the hell am I supposed to answer THAT??
Let me weight my options here: If I "drive right past you" I am an "evil" person who to most people should be hung in the town square for treating her mother in such a horrible manner. But - if I stop, and take you in... you won't "stay with me a week" and find yourself a place - you would just expect to stay. Period. I have a life and family to take care of - how dare you even say that to me. First off - your situation never came to that. Second - Why the hell should I worry about finding you "under a bridge" one day anyway?? You HAD a good job up here. You WERE MAKING THINGS WORK for you. But it wasn't enough for you.
And now, back there in Texas you have made ME look like some horrible person, who kicked her mother to the street and would not help her out of her "horrible situation." YOU MADE YOUR BED. (For the umpteenth time.)
Anyway, saying all this to you is a pointless waste of breath. You feel your right - and there is nothing I can say to change that. But I will say this: Thank you. Thank you for truly showing me the value of a family. Thank you for being the perfect example of how family's should never treat one another. Thank you for showing me how I should never be as a mother - though I never could be like that anyway.
All I wanted was to be able to share my immense joys as a mother myself - with you... my daughter... and children's grandmother. A child should have two grandmother's. I guess mine will just get one.