The War On The Homefront

The irony of posting on Face Book is that no matter how true a post is, someone always takes exception to it. Take this little war that has brewed between my mother and I. I posted, back in February, a little post about how I felt. I told how my mother had basically taken away all of what I was to inherit and pretty much had broken every promise she made to me. I also included how I felt that she did not understand that I no longer made what she thought I was making, as far as pay, since I had dropped considerably in hours worked.

What had started my little airing of the truth was her sudden dumping of a bill, twice to three times higher than it should have been, on me to pay at a time where I really did not have the extra to put toward it. When I had tried to explain this to her in person, she went ballistic and demanded that we turn ALL the bills back over to her. So we did. A few days after we did so, I wrote the post and the war had begun.

Let’s back up a bit…like a day or two before. I wrote a post expressing my disgust at how, everyone seems to expect you to drop everything and do for them, but when you ask them to do things-like take a few hours out of their busy day to witness a marriage license for you- they suddenly find every excuse as to why they can’t show up. I even made the statement-not aimed toward my mother, but indirectly at the person I was actually talking about (a cousin I had asked to do the honor)-that I was not going to help family anymore. OK, so I said family. But I was talking about those who expected things to be done that were a PART of the family.

I can understand my mother’s desperation. For over twenty years, I have been the only child who would do for her. Now that I am married and wanting to move out of the area, she feels that I am abandoning her. Once I am gone, or so she believes, I will no longer take the time to help with anything. Well, that might happen, but not for the reasons she is placing on it. For instance, just because I put a little distance between myself and her does not mean that I would not be able to help her with things. It just means that I am not as close and cannot be spied upon or disapproved of as quickly. I can have peace and quiet while still being able to help her from a distance.

But what she is doing at the moment puts more distance between us in ways she cannot imagine than any amount of physical distance. Her slow, methodical removal of different things, the car being the most recent, continues to widen the gulf between her and I. It pushes me away, not pulls me closer. She has started treating me like a pariah due to me telling the truth about what is going on, what is wrong with the house, and how I feel about it all. This, from any angle, is wrong. Especially when she taught me NOT to lie.

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