(no subject)
I am very, very upset right now, and it's like... for the stupidest reason but...
My mom is selling her house. This isn't why I'm upset, though it's connected, and well, yeah, I'm a little upset about that. After all, my parents bought that house sixty years ago, and have lived there ever since. I grew up in that house. And I worry that because my mom has roots buried deep in that house, ripping them up to move is going to be a shock to her system. I know she has to move, I know she can't live there by herself anymore, but... I also am very well aware of the consequences to elderly people who have a deep emotional connection to a house.
Now, Mom and the Flaky Sister are buying a house together close to the Blonde Sister. While this concerns me, because Mom and the Flaky Sister drive each other nuts, the house is big enough that they can get away from each other and out of each other's hair. It might be too big, but they're both big girls, this is their decision... and the Blonde Sister will watch over them both. I'm fine with that.
However, here's the stupid thing that I'm upset about; the kitchen table.
I love that table. I have a lot of good memories wrapped around that table. Playing under it and pretending it was a cave, or my own little house, or a teepee, or whatever I needed it to be. Sitting in the kitchen with my papers and crayons, drawing pictures, or learning how to bake with my mom, how to shape dough, how to frost a cake...
I don't ask for a lot from my mom as far as inheritances go. I mean, I'm getting the piano, but I didn't ask for it. I'm getting it because I'm the only one who ever played it. And I'm cool with that, and so are the sisters, because they think it's ugly and they don't want it. Fine. But... I asked for that table. I asked for it when my parents were making their will, because I knew neither of my sisters wanted it. And I asked for it again after my dad died. And again when Mom first started talking about moving. I asked yet again when we were last there, saying, "I am getting the kitchen table, right?" And every single time I asked, I was told, "Yes, Auntie, you are getting the table. It's yours. The girls (meaning my sisters) both know you're getting the table."
That was important to me, because I wanted to be sure it was understood. There's a history here that I'm sure y'all are picking up on, and I just wanted it to be certain that I was getting the table. No argument.
Well, the Flaky Sister called me tonight to tell me the house has been sold, and the closing date is either the 22nd or the 24th. Fine. And the house they're buying, they can move in on the 26th. Great. We talked about a bunch of other house-related things, and then she reminded me we needed to get the piano. Fine, we'll do that. And I said, "Oh, and the kitchen table..."
"Oh, I'm getting that and putting it upstairs for my quilts. It'll be just perfect for cutting my quilts out on."
My mouth fell open and I said, "But... Mom said I could have the table."
"Nope. It's mine." She sounded so smug. "I'm taking it. I get the table. I'm oldest, it's my table."
And that was the end of it, and I... can't do anything about it. Because... Mom will cave. She always does. I can just hear it now; "Well, she is the oldest and you had to know that if she wanted it, I have to give it to her." The Husbandly One didn't help when he said, "Well, we have nowhere to put it right now anyway."
THAT'S NOT THE POINT!! THAT'S MY TABLE!!!!
God, I feel so stupid and childish about this. My sisters both have continually had the attitude that because I came so much later, I should just be happy with whatever I get, and... my parents have pretty much supported them in that. Though I will admit, the Flaky Sister is worse about it than the Blonde Sister. Is it any wonder that I used to be convinced I was adopted??
*head-desk*
I want to fight for that table, but... past history on similar issues is not on my side. I will be made to look childish and selfish for not realizing that my older sisters have rights, and I, as the youngest AND an Accident, should just step aside and let things be. And not complain.
Excuse me, I'm just going to go curl up in a little ball and sob my eyes out, and think about growing a spine. Why can I stand up to anybody else... except my family?
This? Sucks. Majorly.
My mom is selling her house. This isn't why I'm upset, though it's connected, and well, yeah, I'm a little upset about that. After all, my parents bought that house sixty years ago, and have lived there ever since. I grew up in that house. And I worry that because my mom has roots buried deep in that house, ripping them up to move is going to be a shock to her system. I know she has to move, I know she can't live there by herself anymore, but... I also am very well aware of the consequences to elderly people who have a deep emotional connection to a house.
Now, Mom and the Flaky Sister are buying a house together close to the Blonde Sister. While this concerns me, because Mom and the Flaky Sister drive each other nuts, the house is big enough that they can get away from each other and out of each other's hair. It might be too big, but they're both big girls, this is their decision... and the Blonde Sister will watch over them both. I'm fine with that.
However, here's the stupid thing that I'm upset about; the kitchen table.
I love that table. I have a lot of good memories wrapped around that table. Playing under it and pretending it was a cave, or my own little house, or a teepee, or whatever I needed it to be. Sitting in the kitchen with my papers and crayons, drawing pictures, or learning how to bake with my mom, how to shape dough, how to frost a cake...
I don't ask for a lot from my mom as far as inheritances go. I mean, I'm getting the piano, but I didn't ask for it. I'm getting it because I'm the only one who ever played it. And I'm cool with that, and so are the sisters, because they think it's ugly and they don't want it. Fine. But... I asked for that table. I asked for it when my parents were making their will, because I knew neither of my sisters wanted it. And I asked for it again after my dad died. And again when Mom first started talking about moving. I asked yet again when we were last there, saying, "I am getting the kitchen table, right?" And every single time I asked, I was told, "Yes, Auntie, you are getting the table. It's yours. The girls (meaning my sisters) both know you're getting the table."
That was important to me, because I wanted to be sure it was understood. There's a history here that I'm sure y'all are picking up on, and I just wanted it to be certain that I was getting the table. No argument.
Well, the Flaky Sister called me tonight to tell me the house has been sold, and the closing date is either the 22nd or the 24th. Fine. And the house they're buying, they can move in on the 26th. Great. We talked about a bunch of other house-related things, and then she reminded me we needed to get the piano. Fine, we'll do that. And I said, "Oh, and the kitchen table..."
"Oh, I'm getting that and putting it upstairs for my quilts. It'll be just perfect for cutting my quilts out on."
My mouth fell open and I said, "But... Mom said I could have the table."
"Nope. It's mine." She sounded so smug. "I'm taking it. I get the table. I'm oldest, it's my table."
And that was the end of it, and I... can't do anything about it. Because... Mom will cave. She always does. I can just hear it now; "Well, she is the oldest and you had to know that if she wanted it, I have to give it to her." The Husbandly One didn't help when he said, "Well, we have nowhere to put it right now anyway."
THAT'S NOT THE POINT!! THAT'S MY TABLE!!!!
God, I feel so stupid and childish about this. My sisters both have continually had the attitude that because I came so much later, I should just be happy with whatever I get, and... my parents have pretty much supported them in that. Though I will admit, the Flaky Sister is worse about it than the Blonde Sister. Is it any wonder that I used to be convinced I was adopted??
*head-desk*
I want to fight for that table, but... past history on similar issues is not on my side. I will be made to look childish and selfish for not realizing that my older sisters have rights, and I, as the youngest AND an Accident, should just step aside and let things be. And not complain.
Excuse me, I'm just going to go curl up in a little ball and sob my eyes out, and think about growing a spine. Why can I stand up to anybody else... except my family?
This? Sucks. Majorly.