Cleaning Out

 

Finally I am getting into my mothers room to clean more of her things.  It's a terrible feeling inside really.  There is a dread, there is a pit in the bottom of my stomach like I am the one who is doing something terribly wrong.  I can remember right after she passed away my brother going through her things, and it was ok for him to have his feelings and yet I was never allowed.  I always had to be careful what I said and how I felt about things. I was sad for him and for Vincent and Mariska but there wasn't a sad for me.  Looking back it wasn't fair to me at all. I was supposed to be careful of my brothers thoughts, opinions and feelings.  But me I as supposed to keep all of mine inside.  Each thing that I find of hers , just gives a very uneasy feeling.  There are no feelings of love or warmth or care and that is more than hard. I had a vase from school with all bright colored flowers, and I put that on top of the dresser, it made me smile and brought some happy into the room.  We will never know what she did with all of her things.  So much was gone, but we knew she was planning on moving out, so who knows. You know sometimes you can walk into a persons room and feel them, I don't have that.  A little over two years later and I am the only one that has cleared out anything. It's a very lonely job, and one that I wish wasn't all mine. The only reason that I am holding on to the bedroom set, is for Vincent one day that is something that he might want.  She was gone for me way before her death so I think that made things different for me.  She was so cold and hated me so, there was so much distance, that her passing was more of a relief than anything else.  I did not wish her to die, but I could not imagine having her here again. I can remember feeling that intense sense of relief , because I could not imagine living the way that I was for another 5 years.  That disgusted my brother, and made him angry.  Of coarse it did he didn't have to live with the day to day, he went on vacations and got to drop her off and go home. It had been such a long time since I felt like I had a mom, her passing didn't feel much different for me.  Each time that I tried to share I was just the ungrateful daughter. I wasn't ungrateful, I was hurt and felt more than misunderstood. No one saw that, and didn't care to ask. 

For me there is a breath of fresh air in the cleaning out. Still it is hard, because there is a part of me that feels guilty throwing things away, most of them mean nothing to me and that is hard. I was the one treated like shit, and I am the one left cleaning things alone.  Something is wrong with that picture.  I haven't heard from my brother in a long time, and that is his loss but still it hurts.  Once again he takes the words of others and I become the bad guy.  I do not miss the drama, I do not miss the family drama, I do not miss his girlfriend or her children.  It's just a sad that she led him to believe so many things that were untrue about me.  So I keep cleaning, throwing things away bringing more of me into the space.  It's amazing that you never think about things like this. When I am done once again I will close the door until I am ready to clean some more, I made a huge dent.  I got rid of so much trash and I am glad it's done. So here is the cleaning out making space for the things that matter to me.  My overall feeling is one of relief and I won't apologize for that anymore.  I am relieved, that I am no longer looked down on.  I am relieved that I don't have to care for her. 

I heart your heart.