So whilst all the big ass shit has been brewing and causing havoc with my world … theres been other, seemingly more minor shit going on … and because I’ve been actively ignoring the big shit, the ‘little shit’ has been stuffed as well.
Oh, I don’t do stuffing well … which is why my poor blog is getting a thrashing now 😉
I’ve touched on the aftermath of my sisters death … the drugs and the heart attack … and I think I’ve semi come to terms with all of that part … that she made choices … I wish she hadn’t … that she had stuffed stuff too and not let those around her know what was going on for her … she did what she did and the repercussions took her life …
And that fucks me off. Period.
And I wish it hadn’t. But it did. Period.
We’re all dealing with it in our own ways.
But since that time, I’m the ‘daughter who survived’ … who doesn’t have a drug habit … who is the one who’ll plan the fathers funeral (when it happens) … the one who gets rung and talked too …
It’s not a bad thing … but bear in mind, no cunts spoken to me for fucking years. And now my sister is gone, I am the go to.
I’m not sure how I’m dealing with that .. but as it happens, i’ve decided to take stock immediately and process straight away … so as not to let it fester … and to make sure I say what I need too during the conversations with my father, instead of clamming up.
‘Better Out Than In’
So, at our last conversation – Me and My Father that is – my sisters Insurance came up.
Yes, thats right … Insurance. Life Insurance.
I’ve seen families have insurance issues after a loved one has passed away, but I’ve never been involved in it. One, cos none of us has substantial amounts of money. Two, cos none of us has substantial insurance policies.
My sister did. To the tune of half a mil apparently.
When my Aunty told me, all I thought was … Cool … she took care of her girls.
And then this hideous conversation ensued ….
…. that ex husband wants some
…. that the other ex husband wants some; thinks he’s entitled
…. his kids want some
…. the aunty wants a plane ticket
…. the uncle wants to invest for the kids future
…. the boyfriend wants some
…. they’re all entitled to a bit ….
Oh My Fucking God … WTF.
I’ve never heard shit like that up close and personal and I find it freaking revolting.
So I listened and simmered slowly … and didn’t really respond.
But today as I talked to my Father, with my newly acquired knowledge re: keeping shit real and a short list of shit … I let rip.
I let him know in no uncertain terms that NOONE other than my sisters babies, were to touch that money and that if anyone of those money grubbing thieving grave robbing fuckwits even sniffed around the loot, I’d dissect the lot of them … he laughed … nervously … and then went quiet.
I went on to say that all of them had had their time … they’d made their money and spent their money and fucked up their finances and done shit with their finances … that my sister had left money for her girls. No-one else. And no matter how entitled any of them felt, they had absolutely NO right to any of it. That the three babies that my sister had given birth too, were the only ones who had their mama taken from them and that money would not even touch the rim of grief that they felt … but they were provided for.
My sister didn’t leave the money for any other greedy cunt to spend or invest or whatever they like to call it … she left it for her babies.
And I’d be fucked if I was going to see anyone else take it from them.
After a rather long and prolonged silenced … my Father agreed.
And I am still left with this uneasy creepy and revolted feeling … that the people around her still want to take from her …
over my dead fucking body fuckers!