My blood runs thin
Thanks to the many of you who called or emailed to pass along your condolences in regards to my grandmother passing away. Given the current circumstances (she was paralyzed on her left side and suffering from blood clots resulting in strokes, heart attacks and her leg beginning to die from poor circulation), it honestly was the best thing that could have happened. Thinking about her living any longer in a nursing home, when she was a very independent woman all her years, has been a nightmare for the whole family.
We, Rob and I, drove up to Stow OH on Thursday. We stayed with his parents and then trekked the 2 hours over to Toledo OH the following late morning. The viewing, for immediate family members only, began at 2PM. We arrived just in time and had just over an hour with her before other visitors began to arrive.
It was awful. She looked so tiny and frail. My first thought, seriously, was fear that I was going to knock over the coffin. It wasn't even wood. She is going to be cremated (she never wanted to be seen), so they put her in a cardboard box withscreen printed wood grain. My mom never noticed. I did. It looked so lightweight and fragile.
I stayed briefly after a few people arrived. I met grandma's best friend, Sandy, and a few others. I then asked for keys to go back to her apartment. There was a 4 hour window for people to pay their respects before the ceremony began at 7PM. I was not staying over that night, my Aunt and Uncle had decided to take over her apartment without even seeing if it was convenient for anyone else, so we had no where to stay. Besides, things seemed to be going well, so I figured it would be best if I stay out of the way the day after the funeral.
Boy, was I wrong.
I grabbed my brother, whom I still call Robbie, sister-in-law Tammy and Rob. The 4 of us headed over to see what of grandma's we'd like to have. I told my parents, and my uncle, that I would write a list of what I'd like to have... and if anything on that list was wanted by someone else... they should draw straws. Everyone seemed fine with this.
Boy, was I wrong.
Robbie and I had an excellent time. This was, afterall, the last time I will ever be there. The apartment, occupied as far back as I can remember, hasn't changed in the last 30 years. Not only are all the items the same - they are in the same place! Nothing ever moved or changed at grandma's.
Robbie and I went through drawers, boxes and toys discussing the many things we remembered playing with. We found things we had never seen - old photos, newspaper clippings (one of my grandmother's wedding announcement!), old letters (all condolences from 1964 when my grandfather died of cancer), and letters we had made her over the years (We found one Robbie made for Valentine's day back in the early 70's). It was amazing. I never knew how many things she had hidden away in boxes and how many things she kept. I kept saying, "I wish I had taken the time to go through all of this when she was alive so we could discuss it. So, I could find out what was an heirloom and why she kept certain things. Now I'll never know!"
Its a stupid thought, of course. This highly private woman, although very open about stories of her past, would have probably drawn the line if I ever dug through all her clippings and papers. she didn't like things messed or fussed. I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she would have been thrilled that I was so interested. Again, I'll never know.
An hour and a half in, I call my uncle at the funeral home asking for the keys to the locked closet space in the basement. He doesn't hesitate and tells me where the keys are and which locker is hers. He seemed just fine with us still over there.
Boy, was I wrong.
Robbie and I discover a nearly empty space in the locker... the shelves are mostly occupied by very neatly lined up cans and bottles (I haven't a clue why she kept things down here like a pantry when she had a pantry in the apartment). An old, ugly box in the back catches my eye. I make Robbie pull it out (I don't want to get dirty!). Turns out, its all of my grandfather's old WW2 medals, pocket knives, part of an ID bracelet with "love Millie" (grandma) inscribed on the back, old propaganda pins that say, "I wish I had a girl back home" and "Does your mamma know you're home yet?". A very tiny bible and another pocket-sized bible. All kinds of neat things. We take it upstairs to leave out for everyone - and we leave the apratment.
All in all, we were there for about 2 hours. Two hours of skimming through all my memories and saying good-bye. Quick, if you ask me. It was great that Robbie and Tammy were there, too. We did what you are supposed to in times like this. We shared in the moments together and celebrated her life. No tears. No "final good-byes". It was great, truly great.
We quickly ate at Steak 'n' Shake just so we would make it back in time. My mother calls to give me some grief about my absence, but if I was going to deliver a eulogy (AND, I'm pregnant), I was going to need something in my gut to keep me from falling over.
We shared some of our findings with relatives. I brought back the photo of my grandmother - the one she recently shared with me when she said, "Just look at that. Wasn't I beautiful? Now I have all these wrinkles - ack!" We brought back her wedding announcement from the paper (both my father and uncle had never seen it before), a wedding announcement for my uncle & his wife, a pagent trading card featuring my cousin, and an autograph album from my grandmother's grandmother (complete with great-great uncle's signatures and words of wisdom dating back to the late 1800's!).
I told everyone I just had to share it all and that I wouldn't take any of it. It was up to them to split but I just couldn't pass it up. My freak cousin walked off with her parent's wedding announcement and her trading card in hand - never saying a thing to me (like "cool!" or "thanks!"). In fact, she never cracked her cold shell at any point during the entire day. She wasn't icy in an overly-emotional way... she didn't seem upset by the day's events to me. I cried with my mom over grandma in her coffin - I never even saw this girl blink. She even walked out during my eulogy. But, that's another story.
I was open and honest with the list of things that I found at grandma's. I gave my list to my mom and all seemed well with the world.
Boy,... was I... wrong.
Right before the ceremony began, my cousin asked to see my eulogy. She claimed she was "going to say something" but that I was doing it... or that she didn't know what to say... and later she says to me, "you said everything I was going to." *sigh*, I can't win?!.. She first mentioned wanting to say something in the beginning of the days events - to which I eagerly prompted her to do so. I, personally, am a terrible public speaker but I feel that in times like this, you must do things like this to honor those that have died. You must be strong in these situations for the respect of the person who has died and for those who need you most. If no one else could speak, I would & I jumped at the chance to do so. Don't get me wrong - I wrote and rewrote this speech. I turmoiled over a few things, it wasn't natural for me at all. When I got up to speak, my heart was so wedged in my throat I could hardly swallow let along breathe. I think I fidgetted the first half of my story but by the end, I think I was fine.
Again, she walked out during my talk. The event was for 20 people at most and lasted only 15 minutes - there was no reason for her to leave - other than she must have been insecure about herself.
After the ceremony, there were quick good-byes with rather flat/impersonal ones from my family. Definition of my family - Aunt Judy and Uncle Dick and their 2 kids (daughter about 23 and son about 27).
My family with whom,... from whom..., I now resign my family duties. Blood is not thicker than water in all cases - least of all this one.
Rob and I drove home Friday night - arriving at around 10PM.
Saturday, hell actually broke loose.
My parents, staying with my mother's brother, went over to grandma's around 10:30AM. The kids had left - and they took things with them. They never ran anything by my parents like I had with Dick and Judy the day before. They didn't write lists of what they'd like to have - they just took it. And we will never know what they took. They, along with some things, were gone.
And so begins the day.
My mother begins to go through the spare room. I had asked for a small wooden dresser. It was the only piece of furniture that I wanted. In fact, I had asked my grandmother for it in the past. It turns out its actually a piece from her original dining room set. I thought for sure other people would want it, too, so I told my parents to draw straws if fighting broke out. But, nope! My uncle told us at the funeral home that it was fine - I could have it. Same for the "Klippstein Co." metal calendar from my great grandfather's publishing company. Again, no problem! Wow! Luky day!
So, my mom starts to take the piece to put in the truck... and here comes Judy. Now, yes, my mother can tell stories and yes, she too has a mouth on her. But I later got this story from my brother, who was there, and from my father - 2 men who both hate confrontation and don't typically exaggerate a situation.
Judy, "Uh, Linda! what are you doing! Dick! dick! Get in here! She's taking the dresser! Dick!!!!"
My mother, "Judy, I told you about it at the funeral home, don't you remember? Dick said it was fine - Brooke wants it."
Judy, "Uh, I don't think so! That belongs in the family! That's very expensive - its at least $1000!"
[at this point the conversation gets wacky.] My mother, supposedly stunned, says nothing about the fact that I am not only family but the second eldest grandchild. No one points out that my dad is the eldest son AND that both he & Dick are equal executor's of the will - Dick is not the main decision maker in the division of the estate. My dad DOES interject to remind Judy that her daughter got grandma's diamond ring - complete with three 1-carat diamonds from 2 marriages. Judy does escalate and exacerbate the sitaution by yelling, "Well, I didn't appreciate the fact that YOUR kids were over here going through the apartmant when my kids were at the funeral! We never even had a chance to go though it all ourselves yet!". Again, no idea why my parents didn't remind them that they A. stayed there 2 nights in a row... B. That I was only given 2 hours to look through things... C. No one ever said her kids couldn't come with us (but I'm glad they didn't!)... and D. I never took anything without asking like her kids clearly did that morning.
My parents gave up at this point.
They took it all. Dick and Judy took it all. They took other pieces of jewelary for my cousin (namely the aquamarine ring) like the biggest piece of them all, the diamond ring, wasn't enough. They took all the WW2 memorobilia my brother and I found - my dad got 1 pin. They took all the china. The pots and pans. The coo-coo clock made in Germany. My grandmother's rocking chair from when she was a little girl. All the family photos - my uncle gave my dad 1 baby photo. They even took that old family autograph book that I found and brought to the funeral home to share. My cousins had supposedly made "claim" to nearly everything before leaving the apartment... and my parents never challenged anything. They even took a picture out of my dad's hands while he was looking at it, "Oh, ha. Sorry about that Bob, I've got dibs on that." They took my grandmoher's antique silverware out of the dresser I wanted... to sell on Ebay.
They took it all. I seriously just picture the Grinch taking all the ornaments off the Christmas trees and leaving behind empty strings with no light bulbs. They even, get this, are making my dad help pay half the rent for one more month so they can go back in February with a U-Haul for the rest.
And what are they doing with it all, you ask?
Selling it on Ebay. Selling my grandfather's WW2 pins. Selling the antique silverware. Shit, its one thing to want to keep it all for yourself - its another to assume all rights to family heirlooms only to see it all on Ebay.
My father? How is, he you ask? Shocked. Appauled. Saddened. Disheartened. I think he lost more than a mother this past weekend. He finally lost whatever shred of hope he had for actually having a brother (Dick's always acted like a business colleague and less of a family member).
My dad apparently cried the day my parents drove back. It hit him and he let it all go. It makes me mad. Sick to my stomach. I feel a little violated. I feel like the whole weekend was raped of any fond memories left behind all those years spent in that apartment. I feel like screaming - I feel like retaliating... somehow.
I do plan to see when and if he lists things on Ebay. I do plan to bid and try to win back some things. Irreplaceable things like WW2 medals. Its a daunting task, though. I don't know when he'll list these things and I'm sure he'll never tell me his seller's name for fear I'd track his earnings. I don't want the money - I want the memories. I want to keep these items in the family. I want to pass them on.
I will also write my aunt and uncle a letter when all is said and done. A break-up "Dear John" letter, if you will. I've had co-workers behave more emotionally, friendly, sympathetic, and adult-like than I have seen that "family" act.
All this really begs the question for me. What is the definition of family, really? Because you share blood with someone that gives them the right to shit on you only to expect you to be there waiting for more? Not me. Certainly not my mom. I wonder which way my dad is leaning. I know he doesn't want to make that final choice. And its a fucking shame that he should have to, let's be honest. But, he's seen plenty in the last month to know who his friends are and who his family really is. Dick and Judy didn't open the doors for him when he needed a place to stay in Toledo last weekend - my mom's brother did. Dick and Judy didn't say a fond word about her throughout the whole funeral - her friends did. My cousins didn't cry at the site of her - my mother did. No one backed off and wanted only 1 little clipboard to remember my grandmother - my brother did.
No one else is letting all know it - but I am... I renounce my aunt, uncle and cousins.
We, Rob and I, drove up to Stow OH on Thursday. We stayed with his parents and then trekked the 2 hours over to Toledo OH the following late morning. The viewing, for immediate family members only, began at 2PM. We arrived just in time and had just over an hour with her before other visitors began to arrive.
It was awful. She looked so tiny and frail. My first thought, seriously, was fear that I was going to knock over the coffin. It wasn't even wood. She is going to be cremated (she never wanted to be seen), so they put her in a cardboard box withscreen printed wood grain. My mom never noticed. I did. It looked so lightweight and fragile.
I stayed briefly after a few people arrived. I met grandma's best friend, Sandy, and a few others. I then asked for keys to go back to her apartment. There was a 4 hour window for people to pay their respects before the ceremony began at 7PM. I was not staying over that night, my Aunt and Uncle had decided to take over her apartment without even seeing if it was convenient for anyone else, so we had no where to stay. Besides, things seemed to be going well, so I figured it would be best if I stay out of the way the day after the funeral.
Boy, was I wrong.
I grabbed my brother, whom I still call Robbie, sister-in-law Tammy and Rob. The 4 of us headed over to see what of grandma's we'd like to have. I told my parents, and my uncle, that I would write a list of what I'd like to have... and if anything on that list was wanted by someone else... they should draw straws. Everyone seemed fine with this.
Boy, was I wrong.
Robbie and I had an excellent time. This was, afterall, the last time I will ever be there. The apartment, occupied as far back as I can remember, hasn't changed in the last 30 years. Not only are all the items the same - they are in the same place! Nothing ever moved or changed at grandma's.
Robbie and I went through drawers, boxes and toys discussing the many things we remembered playing with. We found things we had never seen - old photos, newspaper clippings (one of my grandmother's wedding announcement!), old letters (all condolences from 1964 when my grandfather died of cancer), and letters we had made her over the years (We found one Robbie made for Valentine's day back in the early 70's). It was amazing. I never knew how many things she had hidden away in boxes and how many things she kept. I kept saying, "I wish I had taken the time to go through all of this when she was alive so we could discuss it. So, I could find out what was an heirloom and why she kept certain things. Now I'll never know!"
Its a stupid thought, of course. This highly private woman, although very open about stories of her past, would have probably drawn the line if I ever dug through all her clippings and papers. she didn't like things messed or fussed. I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she would have been thrilled that I was so interested. Again, I'll never know.
An hour and a half in, I call my uncle at the funeral home asking for the keys to the locked closet space in the basement. He doesn't hesitate and tells me where the keys are and which locker is hers. He seemed just fine with us still over there.
Boy, was I wrong.
Robbie and I discover a nearly empty space in the locker... the shelves are mostly occupied by very neatly lined up cans and bottles (I haven't a clue why she kept things down here like a pantry when she had a pantry in the apartment). An old, ugly box in the back catches my eye. I make Robbie pull it out (I don't want to get dirty!). Turns out, its all of my grandfather's old WW2 medals, pocket knives, part of an ID bracelet with "love Millie" (grandma) inscribed on the back, old propaganda pins that say, "I wish I had a girl back home" and "Does your mamma know you're home yet?". A very tiny bible and another pocket-sized bible. All kinds of neat things. We take it upstairs to leave out for everyone - and we leave the apratment.
All in all, we were there for about 2 hours. Two hours of skimming through all my memories and saying good-bye. Quick, if you ask me. It was great that Robbie and Tammy were there, too. We did what you are supposed to in times like this. We shared in the moments together and celebrated her life. No tears. No "final good-byes". It was great, truly great.
We quickly ate at Steak 'n' Shake just so we would make it back in time. My mother calls to give me some grief about my absence, but if I was going to deliver a eulogy (AND, I'm pregnant), I was going to need something in my gut to keep me from falling over.
We shared some of our findings with relatives. I brought back the photo of my grandmother - the one she recently shared with me when she said, "Just look at that. Wasn't I beautiful? Now I have all these wrinkles - ack!" We brought back her wedding announcement from the paper (both my father and uncle had never seen it before), a wedding announcement for my uncle & his wife, a pagent trading card featuring my cousin, and an autograph album from my grandmother's grandmother (complete with great-great uncle's signatures and words of wisdom dating back to the late 1800's!).
I told everyone I just had to share it all and that I wouldn't take any of it. It was up to them to split but I just couldn't pass it up. My freak cousin walked off with her parent's wedding announcement and her trading card in hand - never saying a thing to me (like "cool!" or "thanks!"). In fact, she never cracked her cold shell at any point during the entire day. She wasn't icy in an overly-emotional way... she didn't seem upset by the day's events to me. I cried with my mom over grandma in her coffin - I never even saw this girl blink. She even walked out during my eulogy. But, that's another story.
I was open and honest with the list of things that I found at grandma's. I gave my list to my mom and all seemed well with the world.
Boy,... was I... wrong.
Right before the ceremony began, my cousin asked to see my eulogy. She claimed she was "going to say something" but that I was doing it... or that she didn't know what to say... and later she says to me, "you said everything I was going to." *sigh*, I can't win?!.. She first mentioned wanting to say something in the beginning of the days events - to which I eagerly prompted her to do so. I, personally, am a terrible public speaker but I feel that in times like this, you must do things like this to honor those that have died. You must be strong in these situations for the respect of the person who has died and for those who need you most. If no one else could speak, I would & I jumped at the chance to do so. Don't get me wrong - I wrote and rewrote this speech. I turmoiled over a few things, it wasn't natural for me at all. When I got up to speak, my heart was so wedged in my throat I could hardly swallow let along breathe. I think I fidgetted the first half of my story but by the end, I think I was fine.
Again, she walked out during my talk. The event was for 20 people at most and lasted only 15 minutes - there was no reason for her to leave - other than she must have been insecure about herself.
After the ceremony, there were quick good-byes with rather flat/impersonal ones from my family. Definition of my family - Aunt Judy and Uncle Dick and their 2 kids (daughter about 23 and son about 27).
My family with whom,... from whom..., I now resign my family duties. Blood is not thicker than water in all cases - least of all this one.
Rob and I drove home Friday night - arriving at around 10PM.
Saturday, hell actually broke loose.
My parents, staying with my mother's brother, went over to grandma's around 10:30AM. The kids had left - and they took things with them. They never ran anything by my parents like I had with Dick and Judy the day before. They didn't write lists of what they'd like to have - they just took it. And we will never know what they took. They, along with some things, were gone.
And so begins the day.
My mother begins to go through the spare room. I had asked for a small wooden dresser. It was the only piece of furniture that I wanted. In fact, I had asked my grandmother for it in the past. It turns out its actually a piece from her original dining room set. I thought for sure other people would want it, too, so I told my parents to draw straws if fighting broke out. But, nope! My uncle told us at the funeral home that it was fine - I could have it. Same for the "Klippstein Co." metal calendar from my great grandfather's publishing company. Again, no problem! Wow! Luky day!
So, my mom starts to take the piece to put in the truck... and here comes Judy. Now, yes, my mother can tell stories and yes, she too has a mouth on her. But I later got this story from my brother, who was there, and from my father - 2 men who both hate confrontation and don't typically exaggerate a situation.
Judy, "Uh, Linda! what are you doing! Dick! dick! Get in here! She's taking the dresser! Dick!!!!"
My mother, "Judy, I told you about it at the funeral home, don't you remember? Dick said it was fine - Brooke wants it."
Judy, "Uh, I don't think so! That belongs in the family! That's very expensive - its at least $1000!"
[at this point the conversation gets wacky.] My mother, supposedly stunned, says nothing about the fact that I am not only family but the second eldest grandchild. No one points out that my dad is the eldest son AND that both he & Dick are equal executor's of the will - Dick is not the main decision maker in the division of the estate. My dad DOES interject to remind Judy that her daughter got grandma's diamond ring - complete with three 1-carat diamonds from 2 marriages. Judy does escalate and exacerbate the sitaution by yelling, "Well, I didn't appreciate the fact that YOUR kids were over here going through the apartmant when my kids were at the funeral! We never even had a chance to go though it all ourselves yet!". Again, no idea why my parents didn't remind them that they A. stayed there 2 nights in a row... B. That I was only given 2 hours to look through things... C. No one ever said her kids couldn't come with us (but I'm glad they didn't!)... and D. I never took anything without asking like her kids clearly did that morning.
My parents gave up at this point.
They took it all. Dick and Judy took it all. They took other pieces of jewelary for my cousin (namely the aquamarine ring) like the biggest piece of them all, the diamond ring, wasn't enough. They took all the WW2 memorobilia my brother and I found - my dad got 1 pin. They took all the china. The pots and pans. The coo-coo clock made in Germany. My grandmother's rocking chair from when she was a little girl. All the family photos - my uncle gave my dad 1 baby photo. They even took that old family autograph book that I found and brought to the funeral home to share. My cousins had supposedly made "claim" to nearly everything before leaving the apartment... and my parents never challenged anything. They even took a picture out of my dad's hands while he was looking at it, "Oh, ha. Sorry about that Bob, I've got dibs on that." They took my grandmoher's antique silverware out of the dresser I wanted... to sell on Ebay.
They took it all. I seriously just picture the Grinch taking all the ornaments off the Christmas trees and leaving behind empty strings with no light bulbs. They even, get this, are making my dad help pay half the rent for one more month so they can go back in February with a U-Haul for the rest.
And what are they doing with it all, you ask?
Selling it on Ebay. Selling my grandfather's WW2 pins. Selling the antique silverware. Shit, its one thing to want to keep it all for yourself - its another to assume all rights to family heirlooms only to see it all on Ebay.
My father? How is, he you ask? Shocked. Appauled. Saddened. Disheartened. I think he lost more than a mother this past weekend. He finally lost whatever shred of hope he had for actually having a brother (Dick's always acted like a business colleague and less of a family member).
My dad apparently cried the day my parents drove back. It hit him and he let it all go. It makes me mad. Sick to my stomach. I feel a little violated. I feel like the whole weekend was raped of any fond memories left behind all those years spent in that apartment. I feel like screaming - I feel like retaliating... somehow.
I do plan to see when and if he lists things on Ebay. I do plan to bid and try to win back some things. Irreplaceable things like WW2 medals. Its a daunting task, though. I don't know when he'll list these things and I'm sure he'll never tell me his seller's name for fear I'd track his earnings. I don't want the money - I want the memories. I want to keep these items in the family. I want to pass them on.
I will also write my aunt and uncle a letter when all is said and done. A break-up "Dear John" letter, if you will. I've had co-workers behave more emotionally, friendly, sympathetic, and adult-like than I have seen that "family" act.
All this really begs the question for me. What is the definition of family, really? Because you share blood with someone that gives them the right to shit on you only to expect you to be there waiting for more? Not me. Certainly not my mom. I wonder which way my dad is leaning. I know he doesn't want to make that final choice. And its a fucking shame that he should have to, let's be honest. But, he's seen plenty in the last month to know who his friends are and who his family really is. Dick and Judy didn't open the doors for him when he needed a place to stay in Toledo last weekend - my mom's brother did. Dick and Judy didn't say a fond word about her throughout the whole funeral - her friends did. My cousins didn't cry at the site of her - my mother did. No one backed off and wanted only 1 little clipboard to remember my grandmother - my brother did.
No one else is letting all know it - but I am... I renounce my aunt, uncle and cousins.
posted by Brooke Ullman at 8:54 PM
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