( 11:50 AM ) oboemuse
I'm not quite sure why I'm always so irritated with everyone. I'm a sarcastic, vituperous person. I quickly find fault in the way other people speak, write, behave. Everything pisses me off.
Recently at our family farm, a place where no one is presently living, a couple of people converted one of our granaries into a methamphetamine lab. We had actually given permission to one of the people, a childhood family friend, to be at the farm and in the house. He seemed to think it was alright that his girlfriend moved in, and SHE seemed to think it was alright to go through every closet, drawer, cabinet in the house and move, RE-move, appropriate, PAWN(!) whatever she found. When she and several other morons were arrested, she actually had the brazen boldness to ask for her 'personal things'.
This extraordinary intellectual left 'letters' for us in the house. She left dozens of pages of ramblling incoherent inane jabber. Here is one letter which actually reached my mother. I was enraged because my mother was terribly upset and confused.
4/17/03
*****,
I will be out of any communication with society for approximately 60 days. I spoke with Officer ******* ****** and he claims the sewing machine is gone. I am very sorry and the only person I know that would have this is ******* ******, phone # xxx-xxx-xxxx. He claimed he spoke to your brother ****** on Sunday prior to bailing me out, at the farm.
I had no idea the clock pawned in my name belonged at the farm and was / is your mothers. My credibility probably is crap to you but I am not a thief and refuse to ever deal with any person who steals. I am very glad you were able to recover it and plan on reimbursing you for any and all expenses. I purchased the saddles and tack at an auction and wanted to get those items along with my personal items before I leave but I will not have time, prior to me going into teen challenge. I leave tomorrow
I will try to get in contact with ******* ****** again, he resides in the ***** Trailer Park west of **** and drives a light blue Dodge Caravan. I know that I placed the sewing machine between the bookshelf and cedar chest in the sewing room on the floor and it was there when I left Tuesday after noon 3/25/03. I did not see it when I arrived back at the farm on 3/30/03. I found it extremely odd that Kevin stated he had been out there at the farm to pick up cash to bail me out on Sunday as he claimed to know that I kept my cash upstairs in a green basket in the bedroom and also wanted to see what was left over.
Once again I apologize for the hell you all have gone through. I met ******* ****** through ******* ******, I knew him less than two weeks.
I am writing a note to him also - falsely stating that he is on a surveillance tape removing items from the property - hoping you will get the sewing machine back.
I will contact you when I can.
Sincerely,
Jerilyn **** Crackwhore *****
People who talk too much irritate me. People who write incoherently irritate me. She is the target of most of my recent vitriolic repugnance. I hate her. I like to refer to her as Jeriyn Crackwhore, but I suppose it would be more appropriate to call her Jerilyn CRANKwhore since Crack probably refers to something other than this substance that they were trying but were too stupid to produce.
Her letters had this mistake repeatedly: "I would OF" and "I could OF". That mistake places her squarely within the trailer park boundary. And the way she says what she says in this letter really kills me: "The clock pawned in my name" Yes, Jerilyn, that would be the clock that YOU pawned as evidenced by the pawn ticket with YOUR signature on it. And the saddles and tack? Bought at an auction. I doubt it! Probably stolen. We are presently investigating that with the law officers of our own and adjacent counties. "I had no idea the clock .... belonged at the farm and was your mothers." REALLY?? How strange. I thought EVERYTHING that would be at the farm would belong there AND belong to my mother. Did you bring that clock with you, Ms. Crackwhore? No, you didn't. You picked it up off the bureau and said to yourself 'I wonder how much money I can get for this so that I can go gamble at the casino?' Another: "I know I put it (the sewing machine) between the book case and the cedar chest." Well, first of all she was tresspassing, she had no right at all to be there, and she certainly had no right to move anything in the house. Which she did, by the way. All the furniture was rearranged, and I already mentioned that she went through all closets and drawers. And she goes into "Teen Challenge". HA! This is an incredible joke. I know that the reason she is doing this is so that she can look like she's a good Christian person when she goes to trial. I haven't mentioned that she was picked up with a couple of my mom's checks, that she had previously had a record which includes auto theft and check fraud. Remember though, she refuses to ever deal with any person who steals. What a piece of work this girl is. Oh, teen challenge? This woman is 38. She has a 19 year old daughter. Nice role model, eh? I'll bet her daughter is pretty pissed off.
What I should really do of course, is try to start this at the beginning. There somehow seems to be no real beginning. It just seems to be this endless stream of incidents that make me angry.
My dad dies. That was terribly sad. I loved my dad so much. He was such a good guy, gentle and sweet. He'd sing to the cows while we were milking, and he had the most beautiful whistle that you can imagine. Whistling is a difficult thing to do gently (unless you are a house wren or a warbler) but his whistle was so soft and sweet, and the cows were sweet and gentle, I think as a result of the way they were treated. He was a good farmer, caring well for his animals and his land.
He died of cancer. From the time my mother told us until the time he died was two weeks. And if you don't think that pissed me off, you haven't been reading carefully. She wanted to wait until we could all be together before she told us and she never told him. She didn't want to tell him because she thought he'd give up. But she didn't tell us because she didn't want to worry us. Oh, my god, did that piss me off.
After he died, my sister in law (and this is like the ultimate piss-off situation) decides that she needs "closure" so she arranges to have a "funeral" for my dad at her church. Now bear in mind that this was following an obituary being written and a statement being made that "a memorial service will be held at a later date". And this "funeral" was in a Christian Church for a person who lived his life as a non-Christian and who would have been repulsed to have a Christian service at his death. AND she called all of our cousins and his sister in law (our aunt) and people in her church to say that there would be this service for him. They came and wondered where our mother was. It was a head-shaker. How on earth could this white-trash wife of my brother think it was acceptable to have a Christian service for a man who was never a Christian? He donated his body to a medical school, believed (I'm pretty sure) that life was here on this earth and living a good life was its own reward. (Have I mentioned that Christians really piss me off?)
My father lived a good life. His desire was to farm, and he did that with a beautiful pedigreed heard of Jersey Cows, a well cared for acreage, good equipment, and an uncluttered life. That this sister in law (the tin roof on the trailer) decided she needed "closure" which in her mind was being chanted over in a Christian church was an incredible insult to my mother and to others of us in the family who find Christianity meaningless. Closure - what a stupid word. It just pisses me off! Hey, you know, my dad died. That's closure.
So we actually went on with life, although I was so pissed off at my idiot CHRISTIAN sister-in-law that I didn't speak to her for years. I still only tolerate her, and only because I actually respect my brother, probably because he keeps it close to the vest and doesn't divulge what a grind it is to be married to such an idiot. He may not feel that way, but he has so much class that I'm sure I'll never know.
Life was pretty stressful for a time. My mother cried a lot. You might expect that after being married 54 years, it would be quite a change losing your mate and being alone. I did get pretty worried when she told me that she had 'seen' him. She was as shocked about it as I was, I guess. She 'saw ' him at the kitchen table one morning probably about 2 weeks after he died. The good sister and I had spent about 10 days at the farm with her after Dad's death, but we finally had to leave, had to get back to some kind of lives. She wanted us to go. She wanted us to be ok. I think maybe she thought that our being 'ok' would help her with being 'ok'. When she told me she had 'seen' him, I knew the feeling of "Fear gripped my heart" (as in some literary work). I thought her mind was gone. I was worried that she had lost it. She explained that she thought it was his way of telling her that he was gone. Her words. It was worrisome, but I realized then that anything is possible. Whether she saw 'him' or some kind of energy that allowed her to create the vision of him is less meaningful than the message she got from seeing him. The message was not "I'm alright." The message was "I'm gone". That really made me sad.
My mother has a stroke.
Yeah, this is pretty terrible. I remember the day vividly. The good sister and I went up to the farm on December 19 to visit with our mother. She was sitting at the table trying to write something, a card, to one of our neices, to her granddaughter. She couldn't write. Nothing would work, and she couldn't say words that made sense to us. I remember her saying something like "ribifluf" and looking at us questioningly. It was terrifying. It also showed how well the good sister and I can work in tandem.
We called the hospital and explained what was happening. We brought her in and they confirmed a "bleed to the brain", "cerebral vascular accident", "stroke".
Six days prior to this day, I began a new job. I was so happy about the position, knew it was a perfect fit for me, and I knew that both my employer and I would benefit from it. I probably went up to the farm that day, Sunday, to tell my mother about the new position, to hope she would be happy for me as I knew she would be, to visit, to 'check in' as the good sister and I did frequently.
The heartbreak of this day will probably be with me my entire life. I felt like I was really getting along well with my mom, which hadn't always been the case in my growing up years. She was so smart, and politically astute, read everything and very eclectically so. She'd read Mother Jones to U.S. News and World Report (although I'm sure that she preferred Mother Jones). She was really doing fairly well by herself at the farm, but the stroke affected her ability to reason and to remember. Her brain was injured in such a way that learning new things is almost impossible for her. She was such a confident person, and she doesn't have that anymore, nor does she have the ability to reason with logic or organization. Brain injuries are very strange. I can equate it to some electrical wires being cut or melted and then rewired. She sometimes says and does the strangest things. I'm really angry that she had a stroke. I'm angry because my impatience with her is a burden for both of us. I want to not be the scary evil daughter who makes all the decisions which affect her life. Maybe that's why my evil sister keeps her distance. I AM the evil daughter who makes all the hard decisions (like making sure that mom has a safe place to live and people to care for her even though she hates it) while the evil sister is still the sweet and cheerful and untroubling (albeit ABSENT) daughter who mom talks about all the time. GRRR.... That really pisses me off.
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