why are you angry?

That is the question the therapist asked when I was talking about Mum's broken hip. Having thought about it, I know the answer. I was angry, I am angry because Mum got badly hurt because she wasn't being well taken care of, and the hurt went far beyond a broken bone because of the impact on the mind as well as the impact of loss of mobility. The important thing is to think about the anger and, in that way, to control it, to understand it, to perhaps dispel it.

I am angry now because it is my belief that Robby wasn't well taken care of. Robby's family was his own choice and of his own making but I still believe that saying he was a certain way and that he derived a certain satisfaction doesn't excuse his family from not taking care of him. I'm not convinced that he wouldn't have been pleased by a higher level of concern for his day to day life. I believe that Beth's moodiness and her living in a certain chaotic way put a lot of stress on Robby and that stress did not improve his quality of life. I know that she created stress for him because he told me so and I am angry that she would not or could not modify her behavior. I am angry that she moved to Maine, physically close to our parents and my brothers knowing full well the closeness that existed, that Debbie had been popular with all of them, and that Robby would never move from that spot. She had plenty of time, years of time, to see how that was before they married and had Charlie. Her choice was that my mother and I had to make accommodation to her , not the other way around. I think it the duty of the younger person to work harder but it does not seem as if she did regarding our mother. Mum didn't think so. That result was more stress for Robby, Mum's favorite child. For some reason that I do not understand, Beth insisted that I be different also, even though I lived 500 miles away and had little contact beyond visiting one week a year for many years. I know that she took her resentment out on Robby. That makes me angry. I am angry that Robby's daughter called him every day with many many complaints and also requests for money and went through all that foolishness of moving to Maine, staying for only about a year, having her expensive "wedding", dragging Jane as landlord into her craziness. I am angry that she posted on face book a photo of Robby dying on April 25th with her sitting next to him with a big smile. I am angry that some years ago Beth printed an 8 x 10 photo for me of Robby after that Retired Skipper's Race when it is obvious that he was suffering from a severe headache. Did she not even know while they had to sit through the tedious dinner afterward because she likes parties? I'm angry that she wanted that big boat and kept that big boat that took a lot of Robby's time when he had not enough for everything else. I'm angry that she dragged him to Italy and then she was disappointed because they couldn't see the sights in Rome. How could she do these things?

I'm angry that Beth told John and told Susan that I should have a relationship with Julie. Maybe she should have checked with Julie first because Julie is not interested, I am sure. I'm angry that Charlie never thanks me for presents. It is fine, more than fine, if none of them wants to know me, but I don't want to hear that it is my fault. They comment that I'm not like Robby and they have never bothered to notice that I am a lot like Robby.

I'm angry that all my brothers view me in a benevolent but nearly completely detached way and that they almost never make an effort to contact me, or even to reply when I contact them.

All of these things are what they are and I need to let it all go because none of it can be changed. I want the estate to be settled and I want my money, thank you very much, and I want to turn my back on the rest of it. Except for John and Laurel.

June 16

I requested to be friends with Julie but I just removed the connection after a couple of days. John had told me that Robby felt that Julie had grown up a lot but I sure can't see it. Of course, I'm glad that Robby felt that way. Susan and Sarah think that I should make an effort because Robby would want that but I think I'm right. And you know what else, Robby would be sad but he would understand. Our only connection was Robby and they have no interest whatsoever in me unless I magically become someone more like them. I think that I that I don't need them to be different, just to at least respond a little but perhaps I give myself too much credit. I'll never know. I think that they can't see I am a lot like Robby, so too bad for them if they miss out on that. At first I thought 'well, I am not he.' when, a few years ago, Beth said they are used to how sweet he is so it's hard to figure me out. Nice thing to say. Of course, I was in the situation of having to be conciliatory, and I was also taken by surprise. I could have explained that he and I are much alike. We have the same underpinning of family and experience and knowledge, the same kind of sense of humor, the same thoughtfulness for others although my circle of others is much more limited. Robby and I have much more in common than he has with his wife or daughter, though he would never tell them that, of course. So, too bad for you people. We can continue to be distantly polite if we have happen to run into each other but I am not going to chase a relationship with people who cannot be bothered to reply. I just looked at Julie's facebook page back to 4/26 and I see that she posted some nice photos of Robby, which made me realize, not only did they not say anything about my sending photos to each of them of Robby, Mum, and Dad, but no one sent me any of their photos. Screw it. Your husband and father died and what could be worse (despite the party atmosphere), but you fail to notice that my brother died. Julie posted a photo of Robby from the 25th which I wanted to see because I sure didn't take any photos of him. He is frowning slightly with eyes closed and she is smiling with her broad smile and looking in a different direction. Maybe it's meant to be a photo of Julie. It epitomizes how freaky those last days seemed to me. What does anybody think when looking at that photo?