I forgot to mention that Tom was telling this new lady at work that we’re looking for a place in a 55+ park. The woman said she couldn’t wait till she was old enough to do that too, which is something she’s wanted to do. The lady asks Tom where we’ve been looking, he tells her, then her eyes light up at the mention of the “cramped” park. Turns out the manager that we talked to there is her brother. She said we should go there and that we’d get a “really good deal” there.

Yes, we would. But that’s because it’s kind of a dumpy park. I mean, it’s well-manicured enough, but the trailers are practically touching each other and many of them are old, rundown dumps much like this. That park would only be for if we couldn’t get anything better but still wanted to own and save money. Those lots are only about $400 a month.

I still worry the nicer park is going to reject our application and that we’ll end up there, but no park is as nice as the Diamond K Estates with all the newer double-wides and garages. None of their places are under 40K, though, and if they are it isn’t very often. We’d have to stay here till he was 60 to save to get in there, thanks to Mommy and Daddy who aren’t going to look out for me in death any more than they usually did in life. We could actually save faster for one of those places in a park that was moderately expensive as opposed to this place. IDK, maybe when he retires, though I won’t count on it.

I spent several hours posting from late October 1993 to early December 1993 since I hadn’t posted old stuff in a few days. I’ve often wondered certain things about the future and people would often respond by suggesting I just let the future take care of itself. I had to laugh at that one when I wondered 20 years ago what would become of my journals. Well, little did I know they’d one day be available for the whole world to see. Not every single word of them, but most of them.

Later…

Tammy called back, although she didn’t leave a message. Deciding it must be important, I returned the call shortly after I got up. She starts off about Mom’s condition and the doctors hopelessly trying to fight it with antibiotics through an IV. I ask her why they’re bothering to fight it if they know it’s hopeless, but it’s supposedly to keep her more comfortable. I guess they also called her asking permission to give her something to help ease her pain and she okayed it. Another classic example of how God goes out of His way to protect His perps and to bless the evil with all kinds of comfort. Had it been me I’d have told the nurse to let the bitch suffer. Besides, aren’t they getting tired of being asked for beer and dates with the hairstylist?

The sooner the bitch is cremated, the sooner we can seek closure of sorts and get on with our lives. She says there’ll be a small memorial and that she’ll give a eulogy like she did with Dad. Even though they won’t be buried, both will have gravestones side by side. Poor Tammy still has to deal with what goes in the newspaper and clearing out the rest of the condo and shit like that.

I’d tell the paper she was a child abuser, throw her body in the ocean, and then pocket the money the cremation would’ve cost.

Anyway, she goes on about her health and I eventually stopped her and said, “With all due respect, sis, I just don’t give a damn. I really don’t.” At the same time, I do appreciate her keeping me up to date with things in general.

Andy said Judy said they had a prized art collection worth a lot of money, but it was news to Tammy when I asked her about it. She agreed it would be wonderful if they did, though. If they ever had such a thing it’s long gone. I never saw anything like it the two times I visited them in Florida in 1988 and 1990.

I told her the rumor was that she inherited a fortune from Nana and Pa and she said that’s not true and that it was Ronnie that actually got most of it. Ronnie was the favorite, and I know for a fact he inherited their exterminating business. I don’t doubt for a minute that Nana and Pa favored Ronnie. The firstborn tends to be favored anyway, especially if they’re males. She got enough money to get down to Florida, plus there was money from the house in MA that sold for something like 180K, but that was pretty much it.

Also, I was always under the impression that Medicare paid most of their medical bills, but apparently, that’s not so. She’s seen the many medical bills Dad left behind.

I didn’t know what to think at first, but everything she’s said so far has checked out so I don’t think she’s being dishonest in any way because we’re able to verify most of it online.

Tom said he doesn’t think my folks meant to lie or lead me on about an inheritance and that more than likely they were just naïve. Meaning, they couldn’t have had any way of knowing that the economy would devalue so many things like it has and that they’d have so many medical bills. I will be the first to admit my folk’s abuse didn’t usually involve lies, but it’s still a huge letdown. I’m sick of being teased with money! But I knew deep down since 2007 when other things fell through that God would see to it that we never received much more than 10K at once. If we’re still meant to be poor most of our lives, even though that’s looking less likely by the minute, He’s not going to let us have big bucks. Anything “big” is going to be what we work for and save, if we don’t win it or end up suing someone for some reason.

As we both agreed, we never liked our uncles. Both of them were just aggressive bastards who didn’t give a shit about anyone but themselves (one is dead). Except for cousin Philip back when I lived in Springfield, our aunts, uncles and cousins have never given a shit about us. Speaking of Philip, he’s living with Ruth in Florida. I was surprised to hear this. Isn’t he around 50 these days? I am a bit disappointed, though, that he never tried to look me up, but oh well. I’m used to the “family” not caring for the most part. I’ve only seen my mother twice since 1990. Once was in South Deerfield in 1991, and the last time when she and Dad drove to Phoenix in 1997 since mom has a fear of flying.

I was wrong in saying she saw Norma. She actually called her. I guess she and Mom were close for a while. She didn’t hate my mother but she hated what she’d done. She even tried talking to her. rolls eyes Look what good it did. But as most of us know, you can’t “talk” someone into being a better mother. Just like you can’t tell yourselves or others what to think, feel and believe, you can’t make a better mom with words. People can be influenced by others, but only they can change themselves. I don’t hate God because someone told me to. It was my experiences and seeing things like tsunamis instantly wipe out thousands of lives that influenced and honed my hate, along with events such as a 13-year-old rape victim in the middle east that ends up stoned to death while her rapist goes free.

She asked if I wanted anything from the condo, but again, her clothes and shoes are too big for me, we’re set on kitchen stuff, and so there’s not really anything we could use. She did say she’d send some knickknacks. I said that was fine, but not to worry about it. She knows I like bright colors, particularly pink and purple and modern things instead of antiques and earth tones. Sheets and towels are always nice too, but only if they’re in mint condition.

I didn’t think to ask what would become of her wedding ring or what became of Dad’s, but if she kept them, fine. Unlike most women, I was never big on things like jewels, furs and trips to the salon. My hair probably won’t see a pair of scissors till I’m 50 anyway.

Later…

Tom stopped at the mail place and Burger King after getting off work after 10 hours instead of 12. The fries were ok, but the chicken strips were a bit peppery. I couldn’t eat it all anyway since I’d had some clam chowder before he arrived, not knowing he was stopping for fast food on the way home.

No calls from the park and no letter from the attorney, but the new mattress is here. After I did some things I needed to do, it was so nice to relax on it after sitting at the computer for hours. It’s amazing that they can roll a 13” thick mattress into such a small duffle bag. It was a bit of a struggle getting it out of the bag, but once we did and cut the plastic seal, it started hissing as it began sucking in air. It was neat seeing it expand in just seconds, though it says it can take up to 48 hours to fully expand. It’s the perfect height for the headboard shelves because there isn’t enough of a gap for pillows to slip under it. I may still live in a trashy trailer but I sure as hell don’t have a trashy bed anymore! The mattress is firm enough to give me the support I need but doesn’t leave me feeling like I might as well be sleeping on the floor. The surface of the mattress isn’t too slippery so sheets should hold in place well and not slip and bunch beneath me.

Tammy’s youngest daughter turned 22 today. She asked about my doll collection and what I got for the ones I sold. I guess Becky’s really into the Twilight series (I’ve never seen or read any of it) and she and Sarah have gotten a lot of stuff on eBay. I told her to tell them to be careful of eBay and all the scams they’ve got going on and that they’re better off with Amazon.

Someone (Adonis?) said they didn’t get how I wouldn’t miss my mom. Yeah, I suppose if I had a loving mother I too, wouldn’t get how anyone could say they wouldn’t miss their mom. A part of me wishes I could be all emotional and balling my eyes out with tears of sadness over her impending doom and that I had this loving mother I would miss like crazy, but just like I’m determined not to let people’s precious little eggshell-like feelings stop me from expressing myself over things like the muzzies in the middle east, I’m not going to lie, play down or sugar coat my mom either. The woman was just plain mean, period. She was evil, negative, selfish, domineering, controlling and even scary till I was around 12. No doubt about it! So even if I wanted to shed a tear when she goes belly-up and even if I wanted to miss her, I couldn’t if I tried.

My one and only funny memory of the bitch was when I was quite young, like somewhere in grade school. One day we were getting ready to go somewhere. She put on her bra, she put on her underwear, and then she put on her shirt. Next she goes and does her makeup. Then she slips her shoes on, picks up her purse and declares herself ready. That’s when I burst out laughing. Yeah, the dipshit forgot to put her damn pants on!

I finally started having mobile home dreams which I’m hoping means we’re getting closer as the lack of dreams has pretty much been a sign that we weren’t close enough. I always “see” things in dreams right before we find a new place. In one dream I was admiring one with shutters outside the 4 or 5 windows that ran along one side and how they alternated in colors of pink and red. Only problem was that the place wasn’t in a park. It was in the woods.