The last time. The final time. Was a week ago, today. It started innocently enough, but with the mother episodes always begin that way.

My children and grandchildren were coming to spend the afternoon, play in the wading pool and have a barbecue. I mentioned this to the mother and reminded her that she and dad were welcome to come spend time with us. Pasted below is her actual response:

” I know you have said that before..but you said your brother isn’t so we will not come over either. If he had a choice to come or not is different..will not get into to this again either”

My parents will not visit my home unless my 45 year old brother who lives in their basement can come with them.

Let’s put aside the reason why he is not welcome. Let’s just focus on the fact that we just bought a house. My parents have been in our home one time. Did not even bother to look at the entire house or property and stayed roughly half an hour….if that. And my children ( their grandchildren) and my grandchildren ( their great grandchildren) were going to be here. They refused. Flat out refused to come because my brother, who has lived in their basement for years, who has been institutionalized for abusing both of them, who has told them both that he hates them and wishes they were dead, is not welcome.

But she insists they are not picking one of us over the other. Insisted that this was my doing. That I forced them to choose (that they are not doing). I seriously cannot make this shit up.

it wasn’t until all the nastiness was said and all the anger had been spent that I began to realize that I would never be a part of that family. Oh I’ve known this for years. But a part of me, maybe the little damaged girl in me(?) held out hope.

There is no hope to hold onto. The mother wanted a child but she never wanted to be a parent. Hell. Maybe she never even wanted a child. Who knows.

If all my months in therapy have taught me anything it’s that this is not my fault. I literally have given 100% to try to build a relationship with those people. The mother is a miserable woman who turns everything she touches to rot. Dad. He’s weak. He sees it. Sees how she is and how she treats me but does nothing. Says nothing. The brother. She has brainwashed him into believing all of this is normal. The whole house is pathetic.

I feel a loss of what could have been. But will never greave for what actually is.