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Sunday 4 April 2010

Medication...

The Guardian of Keys - Limited Edition Print by the wonderfully talented Anne-Julie Aubrey.

Within the space of one year and one half, all the paperwork was finally sorted. Put to bed. Or to rest, so to speak...

It had all felt like the Victorian case of Dombey and Son, if you've ever read Dickens... Mired in legalese and legislation, the process of probate can take some time in this country of ours. Even now, in these modern times... And I continued in a fog of half-suppressed grief and a zombie-limbo time, that you just have to go through to understand how it feels... Like being in a half-filled goldfish bowl, looking out and on at the world happening around you.

By this point, even the bastard bank had complied with the writs of my sassy solicitor, (whom, by now, GJ fancied rotten -- He calls her Sharon Stone, as she's called Sharon), and everyone had been paid, and in some cases, paid off...

His partner received a small payment and the right to remain in the home as long as she wished... I asked to come to the house to pick up some things that were mine, that had belonged to my mother, but I was never allowed entry by her to the house. Not without her being there to begin to harass me once more... She pulled up the draw-bridge, excluding me...

An agreement was drawn up by our solicitor for her to remain, provided she didn't sub-let, or take another partner to live in the house, with me footing the tab for repairs and whatever else might be needed...

After all this time, all the water passing under the draw-bridge, and all the bitter-ball calls, our relationship was no longer cordial or easy.

I don't think that, honestly, she'd ever been that easy a woman to deal with. As a mother, as a wife, as a local politician, as a business-woman, she could be a trial... A chore.

Hell, even my terribly quiet dad, while he was still drawing breath, sometimes had to tell her to 'Shush, woman!' just so he could hear himself think or speak above her raving rants...

...And I endured friends and family wondering why and how I could put up with this position that my dad had left me in. And I answered, "Those were his last wishes... What can I do?"

Even my beloved uncle on what was to be his death-bed changed part of his own last will and testament, written for his solicitor in my hand, to accommodate his learned belief '...that blood will out'. He hadn't been very happy about the position I had been left in, and wanted to avoid that for his own son, my beloved Coz.

And on Tuesday, a couple of weeks ago, the call came. "She's kippered it", said GJ to me.

She'd actually passed on in November 2009... Her daughter's flat voice had whispered, 'Sorry, hadn't you been informed? We thought the solicitor would have told you, but he said it was nothing to do with him...'

In fact, we'd only received the news because she'd had the courtesy to look for our number, finding an old telephone charger and plugging in an ancient 'phone of her mother's.

To finally let us know...

And soon I'll be the Guardian of the Keys.


5 comments:

Mrs Jones said...

You were kind enough to leave a message over at my blog, so I thought I'd pop over to yours and have just finished reading about your trials with the wicked step-'mother'. I can so sympathise, I had one of those as well although she wasn't as bad as yours.

I notice you read Crystal Jigsaw and Cait O'Connor - are you also on Purplecoo?

Saz said...

you are a steadfast friend and daughter....l am so proud of you!!


saz x

blognut said...

Have just been reading through all of your posts that I've missed; your family story is fascinating and well told, my dear.

I'm no stranger to my share of dark family stories, as I'm sure you've long suspected, and I just want to say that I think the way you've handled yourself through everything I've read here speaks to a deep, quiet strength within you, Fhina.

I have no doubt that you have your work cut out for you dealing with the house and clearing out the things that have such meaning to you, but I believe deep down that you will make it through better than most.

Love to you,
Bloggus
XXOOXX

Dumdad said...

All's well that ends well. It must be a vast relief to you.

P.S. When I click on your blog only one post appears. I can click on "older posts" and the previous one appears. But where is your archives file? I can't find it but probably because I'm being thick.

French Fancy... said...

I looked back to see Sunday's post that I missed and I have just given a silent cheer. If you were here I would throw my arms around you Fhina.

(goes off to look at the recent post)

xx

Something I wrote earlier...

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