Mom and Youngest Nephew
Sometime in the fall of 2007, I think around Thanksgiving, I was at Mom's house in Olney. The beginning of The Great Commotion was just gathering steam. My brother had already secured the money from the line of credit against Mom's house, had taken Mom to the trust attorney to have himself appointed as a trustee and had compelled Mom to agree to have a new will drawn up, to replace the one created in 2000 by my parents, which did not name his children as beneficiaries. With red flags popping up all other the place, I hired a lawyer and began the process of petitioning the court for a financial guardianship for Mom. By then, it had been nearly five years since the symptoms of Mom's dementia had become apparent.
On that day in 2007, my brother's children were with their mother, with whom I had been speaking on the phone. We arranged for her and the two boys to come over to Mom's for a visit with Mom and me. The appointed time came and, then, passed by several hours. They never showed up. I didn't think too much of it, figuring something unavoidable must have prevented them from coming.
A few days later, I asked my sister-in-law why she and the kids never showed up.
It turned out that after we made plans for her to brings the kids over, my brother called and she told him what they were planning. My brother went completely ballistic, ranting and raving and forbidding my sister-in-law from bringing the kids to Grandma's when Aunt Anne was there.
Thus began the imposed, years-long estrangement from my nephews.
May I just say that Youngest Nephew is the spit and image of my brother, both in appearance and manner. It's eerie. (And, Anne, could you put on a little lipstick, for God's sake?)
My nephews are now ages 20 and 18 . . . adults. They can go where they want, see whom they want to see, and do what they want to do, pretty much.
And, thankfully, they want to see Mom and me!
Youngest Nephew recently graduated from high school, so I called him a few weeks ago and asked him if he could meet us for lunch. We wanted to give him his graduation checks, and I have learned from experience NOT to send gifts in this form to his address at my brother's house.
(I'm going to tell a story, but before I do, I just want to say that I had such a good time visiting with Youngest Nephew. We were all together for a good two hours, laughing and catching up. Although I've seen him a couple of other times recently, those visits were quite brief.)
The first Christmas, in 2007, of the Great Commotion, I sent cards and checks to each of the boys, as usual, but my brother intercepted the mail and refused to give the envelopes to the kids. When the checks didn't clear, I became suspicious and, questioning my sister-in-law, who then questioned the boys, I learned that the cards had, indeed, been delivered, but taken by my brother.
That same Christmas, my mother received a beautifully-wrapped box of expensive French soaps, lotion and talc from my brother (who, coincidentally, was dating a woman from France). It was just at the same time that Mom moved to Antique Village, and the box of soaps, etc., was put aside there--for the time--on a shelf in her closet.
It sat up there for 18 months, it turned out, before I brought it down one day, emptied the contents into her toiletries drawer, and took the empty, beautiful box home with me.
I threw the box on top of a heap of something or other in the front passenger seat of my car. During my drive home, I had to brake suddenly, and the box went flying. The lid came off and the tissue paper fell out.
Can you guess what I found?
Underneath the tissue paper were the two cards I had sent to my nephews that Christmas, 18 months earlier! They were postmarked, but still unopened.
A mystery was born.
Who put the cards into the box of French soaps meant for Mom? Who bought the French soaps? Who wrapped the package? Why were the Christmas cards and their contents simply not destroyed by my brother? Did someone intervene? Was someone trying to return the envelopes to me in a round-about way?
I never found out the answers to these questions, but I told the story to my sister-in-law. We speculated that the French girlfriend must have placed the cards under the tissue and wrapped the gift (it was so beautifully done). We discussed the possibility that the woman may have thought my brother was being an asshole in intercepting my Christmas gifts to the boys, and that she sought to return the cards to me as directly as she knew how. I do believe, if the above scenario is true, that the French girlfriend wanted to cards to be found at Christmas . . . not a year-and-a-half later.
So, former French girlfriend of my brother, whoever you are and wherever you are . . .
Thank you.
(Also, could someone straighten me out on the who/whom and whoever/whomever rule?)
What a great looking young man--but a depressing family story. Makes me angry. My family has some similar ones to tell about my cousin, my uncle, etc...I'm glad that you get to see your nephews and that the relationship wasn't ruined by icky brother!
Posted by: Margaret | July 06, 2011 at 01:59 AM
I'm glad that you and your sister-in-law have maintained your relationship, and that you are now able to see your nephews.
I need lipstick, too, but I HATE IT so much! Yucky, greasy stuff. Actually, I think you look great in that photo. Your hair looks fantastic.
Posted by: Miz S | July 06, 2011 at 08:56 AM