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<blockquote data-quote="lovemysons" data-source="post: 765927" data-attributes="member: 3305">I’m up late tonight Nandina.&nbsp; Your post spoke to me again.&nbsp; You see this afternoon I was dusting my bedroom when I began to relive the phone call my son Jarod made to his grandmother (my mom).&nbsp; It would be the last time they ever spoke before his death just months later.&nbsp; Jarod had asked her $50.&nbsp; Never in his life had he asked her for more than $15 and that was when he ran out of gas once near her house.&nbsp; My mom said No!&nbsp; She didn’t explain herself.&nbsp; Jarod knew why.&nbsp; He accepted it.&nbsp; He wasn’t angry at her.&nbsp; But now I am. He was homeless and likely desperate or he would never have made that call to his grandmother who everyone in the family knows has her selfish self serving side to her.&nbsp; So in that moment while I’m dusting I began to cry for Jarod.&nbsp; And then I began to be extremely angry at my mother who was on a “girl trip” when this call between them took place.&nbsp; And even more anger began to well up inside me.&nbsp; Because it reminded me of all the times her friends came before me while I was growing up.&nbsp; As you know I have mental illness and was a difficult child growing up.&nbsp; One time, to straighten me out, we went to one of her friends homes and this friend told my mother to leave the room.&nbsp; Then when my mother left, this friend had me sit in front of her and told me to NOT make a move without her permission!&nbsp; She began hitting me in the face periodically.&nbsp; She actually thought she could beat my spirit down to get me under control.&nbsp; Back to my original story…and to touch on a point you make.&nbsp; Grief is still with me I find like today while just dusting.&nbsp; It sneaks up out of nowhere and I am back there in pain again.&nbsp; Just wanted you to know I am your sister too like your cousin who has this cross to bear.&nbsp; Sometimes it’s overwhelming. I’m so glad we have each other.&nbsp; Love, LMS</blockquote>

[QUOTE="lovemysons, post: 765927, member: 3305"] I’m up late tonight Nandina. Your post spoke to me again. You see this afternoon I was dusting my bedroom when I began to relive the phone call my son Jarod made to his grandmother (my mom). It would be the last time they ever spoke before his death just months later. Jarod had asked her $50. Never in his life had he asked her for more than $15 and that was when he ran out of gas once near her house. My mom said No! She didn’t explain herself. Jarod knew why. He accepted it. He wasn’t angry at her. But now I am. He was homeless and likely desperate or he would never have made that call to his grandmother who everyone in the family knows has her selfish self serving side to her. So in that moment while I’m dusting I began to cry for Jarod. And then I began to be extremely angry at my mother who was on a “girl trip” when this call between them took place. And even more anger began to well up inside me. Because it reminded me of all the times her friends came before me while I was growing up. As you know I have mental illness and was a difficult child growing up. One time, to straighten me out, we went to one of her friends homes and this friend told my mother to leave the room. Then when my mother left, this friend had me sit in front of her and told me to NOT make a move without her permission! She began hitting me in the face periodically. She actually thought she could beat my spirit down to get me under control. Back to my original story…and to touch on a point you make. Grief is still with me I find like today while just dusting. It sneaks up out of nowhere and I am back there in pain again. Just wanted you to know I am your sister too like your cousin who has this cross to bear. Sometimes it’s overwhelming. I’m so glad we have each other. Love, LMS [/QUOTE]

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