One Week

Well it has been one week since my grandma died. Well at 9 tonight it will be one week. The crap has already started with my various aunts and uncles. I knew there would be back stabbing, and general snarkiness, but damn, I was hoping I would be wrong.

It appears as though grandma left a bit of debt behind. They found a credit card bill with almost 12 grand charged to it, and they are sure, as am I, that there are more. What is even more disturbing, is that she has insurance, which I am sure would be enough to cover the funeral at least, but they cannot find the papers. Call the insurance company you say? Right, well if they knew who she had her insurance through they would. Yeah, not good.

Apparently last Sunday evening, she had gone to the casino, and won like 600 dollars. She made sure to let everyone know that she had won 600. Everyone. Well, apparently she had 34 dollars in her checking account, and 100 in her wallet. No one is admitting where the other 500 went. So someone has taken it.

Oh yes these are the types of people my relatives are. They would rather back stab to get things, then actually be decent human beings. Jackasses the lot of them, and frankly I don't want to insult jackasses by calling the relatives that, but there is no other word to describe them.

So of course my mom is upset. I get that she is upset about not getting any photos, or any real mementos from my grams house. Honestly it upsets me too. But this is something out of her hands. I would love to tell her that she should just not give a shit about it, but I can't, because honestly, I would feel the same. Only I would probably bitch them out. Which I may still do if things get shitty. I have nothing to lose. I won't see them again, except for the funerals to come. Dead serious here. They won't get together regularly. That would just leave each one open for some sort of personal attack.

It is sad really, but I think my grandma set this all into motion. She always had favorites. Yes, honestly she did. My mother for whatever reason was not a favorite child. The faves became the haves, and the unfaves the have nots. So there is a ton of baggage that goes along with how everyone is acting.

All my mom wants is photos, and maybe some other personal mementos. Not money. Not the house. Not anything of monetary value. Just things with personal meaning. I am sure the house has been gone through, and pictures picked through. I am sure any sort of personal memento that my mom would have wanted is also gone.

This truly sucks. This sucks big hairy baboon balls.