Whack A Mole

I wake up every morning to the slamming of the bathroom door. No, I don’t mean loud closing. I don’t mean closing a bit hard. Every morning at around five thirty in the morning my mom slams the bathroom door.

This is a mixed curse. Normally we use the phrase “mixed blessing” but I sure as heck do not feel blessed. The mixed part is that while the sound wakes me up out of a sound sleep, it does mean that she is still alive. I am happy that my mom is still alive, because, when she dies, I will have a nightmare on my hands.

My parents were divorced when my father passed. My sister, when I called her to inform her that our father had died said ‘That’s nice’ and hung up on me. Mom, the one who promised to help me with anything that I needed that was reasonable, when I asked her to accompany to the funeral, refused to even consider the idea. My father’s estranged sister, his cousins and, the woman who, in my opinion, stole his estate and I saw my father off. Had he been alive, my father would have made fun of the proceedings.

Then again, my father was a harsh man.

When mom dies, it’s all me. My sister may, or may not, cause problems. She may or may not show. At the Shiva house there will be problems and quite frankly, I don’t trust my cousins around valuables. Any valuables.

I also don’t know what my mom’s will provides. How is the estate divided? I live there now. Will I have a place to live after? It will just be a giant shit show. I don’t want to live like that.

That’s why, when I get woken woken up in the morning with that giant slam, it’s a mixed curse. I am glad she’s still alive. Truly I am.

But that’s in more ways than one and some of those are selfish.