The other day i saw some pictures from Karl Lagerfeld’s funeral and I couldn’t help but think about my own passing and how different it would be.
His was crowded with people both inside and outside the church. And I’m quite sure it was very beautiful considering he had planned everything himself.
When I die it won’t be a human being there except the priest and the organist, and perhaps my hubby if he’s still alive and we are together.
Somehow it is fitting considering the only one who really have loved and liked me is my mother, my siblings not so much, to be honest I don’t know why but I suppose they have had their reasons. Once when I asked my mother she said they were jealous, but what has there been to envy…
That I was born disabled and with a face that could scare Frankenstein’s monster, or that I have spent more or less half my life in hospitals for different operations, as far as I can remember I didn’t get many visits from them while I was hospitalised, during the time I was in once for three months they came once. Just to tell me that one of them was cheating on her husband, exactly what you want to hear when you are ready to scream of pain...
When I was somewhat over 20 and tried to commit suicide and was lying in coma for three days and the doctors said that if I didn’t die I would most probably become a vegetable, I remember when I woke up how everybody was standing around my bed crying and telling me how much they loved me, it took a month so was everything back to normal i.e. nobody gave a shit.
When I met hubby and decided to move to Spain with him the only one who cared was my mum, the others didn’t give a shit.
When my mother got sick it was I who had to fly to Sweden to make a silly phone call that one of my sisters could have done, but I suppose it was more convenient that I flew across Europe to call someone that was living not very far away from my mother, the constant excuse I got was that I was so good on talking to people just because I had been working in a similar field.
Every time I was home I shopped the fridge and freezer full and cooked for her so she shouldn’t have to do that.
The only thing as far as I know is that my sister went and got money for her and then “borrowed” big sums that she never had to pay back considering my mother felt sorry for her.
Once when my nephew "came along" on his birthday he said he wanted money as a gift and that even before he had said hello and given her a hug!
My mother wanted me to arrange her funeral but as I said it would take days before I could be in Sweden, and for some reason it took two weeks before we got to know that she had died despite that both I and my sister were written as contact persons.
So my sister fixed the funeral and as expected she picked the cheapest things so it would be as much money as possible to inherit, she even asked if all of us could share a wreath, I told her that it was customary that each family sent one, and I knew she would share with someone else so I bought a wreath and hubby a bouquet, and despite we had talked about colours nothing matched.
After the coffee and sandwiches in a room in the church we all went to the grave and my nephew had a scene more or less taken from one of Shakespeare’s plays, throwing himself on the ground and screaming how much he loved her, oddly enough he never called or visited her while she was alive, but I suppose that’s love now a days!
It was so embarrassing so most of us had to look away except his dear mother that was so comforting so she didn’t see how all of us were looking away.
After that we all went to my mother’s flat and she didn’t more than open the door until my nephew started collecting things, after a while when he asked if he could take a thing and I said no he told me I had a good eye for valuable things and I replied just like you it seems, perhaps you should let us kids take what we want before you start picking out everything that is worth anything. (and I could tell that several things were already missing) Yes, I can be a bitch but I hate hypocrisy, because all the time in the flat he was laughing and joking like he was on a party while the rest of us tried to show some respect.
To be honest it was like a funeral from hell... Hubby said that he didn't see my sister cry at all while my niece's kids were running around screaming and playing, they are around 1-5 years old.
Plus that only hubby and I were dressed for a funeral, my sisters family came in ripped jeans and cropped sweaters...
When my sister messed me and asked to call, I have lived here 15 years and I think she has called once or twice all the other times I have called her, she told me mum was dead and wasn’t it nice to be rid of the old witch.
I got so shocked so I just said aha or something like that. There you can talk about love between child and mother…
And things I know my sister had said she tried to make me believe mum had said, she didn’t know that my mother had already told me the right version, among other things that it was best if my brother didn’t know that I was gay and married to a man.
Terribly enough is most of my family like this, except my brother and his kids, they are totally the opposite!
Unfortunately when I had had enough of my sister and her lies I deleted everybody including them which I regret enormously!
If I dared I would send them a friend request, but I’m terrified of getting a no or no answer at all.
I could write a whole book about my family and all shit that has happened during the years, but there is already a book written about us so…
So in a way am I enormously grateful that nobody is coming, and I am sorry sis but you won't get a thing, if hubby is alive I will tell him to empty the flat and sell all things and the money will be donated to animal shelters, and my money in the bank accounts will also be donated as they are going to a Spanish bank. And if he can't I will make sure someone else does it!
Maybe I should write that book anyway... I'm not exactly short of material ;-)