Posted by: Judy | January 7, 2019


My sister shared this post, last month.

My mother passed away in December. I wasn’t sad, except as regards what could have been if she’d chosen to work to be healthy, to stop living in fear. She didn’t. I chose to not let her darken another Christmas. It’s a new year, and I need to clean the slate.

I also received a sympathy card within a week of her passing. I placed it beside the circular file, not quite ready to toss it. My sister posted, and I read the card again and tore it a few times to make it easier to fit in the circular file. I wasn’t angry; I simply didn’t feel it worth keeping.

Where was the sympathy as my mother shredded my reputation? Where was the sympathy as she lied about me, repeatedly? Where was the sympathy as she starved me, neglected me, abused me, and set me up to be abused? Sending me sympathy for her death is a bad joke.

However, I understand the importance of treating others with kindness, so I simply say, “Thank you” or nothing at all.

I don’t feel the need to dance on her grave. I consider that progress.

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