28
Jan

So I heard something this week that shouldn’t hurt my feelings.  It was something that I partially brought on myself but other aspects were out of my hands.  I know that I’ve complained about my Grams on here a few times about how I wish I just had a loving Grandma to be a part of my life.  I’ve come to terms with the way things are but it doesn’t hurt any less when I get a confirmation of how I fucked up things are.

It may be cowardly of me not to want to get together to hash things out.  To be adult about it and not blame her for things.  She is not a mature person, I don’t think she ever was.  And just because I say I don’t want to get together to yell out my frustrations doesn’t mean that there isn’t a tiny part of me that would like to.

In short, my mom’s good friend J, who had been a part of their family for years going on trips up north with them etc, wrote my Grams an email trying to get back in touch with her.  Because unlike me, J wanted to get things out in the open and reunite with her friend after years of being apart.  It should be said that J was pushed out my Grams’ life when she married a control freak who didn’t care for J, over 15 years ago.  Now that the husband is out of the picture there shouldn’t be a problem.  When I was talking to my Grams she said she wanted nothing more than to reconnect with her old friend.

BULL SHIT.

J waited for weeks for a response to the email she sent.  She finally accepted defeat and sent one more email saying Goodbye.  Which got a response from my Grams stating that  ” she thought it would be easier for J and I  if she stayed out of picture”.

WHAT THE FUCK?  Clearly, it’s easier for her to not have to face either one of us.  Why?!

So yeah, that hurts a little.  That while I may not have done a lot to reconcile that my Mother’s Mother, she has decided what is easiest for me without even including me in the conversation.

Anybitches, did you know that the crockpot is the best invention ever?  You put a bunch of stuff in it and when you get home the house smells like you have a 1950′s housewife cooking for you.

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