$35 Refund

Me, Hank, and Momma

I thought that when my mom died (a thought which was never in my realm of possibilities before), we'd all come together as a family and honor her and everything she wanted us to be. Well... that hasn't happened. The three sisters are closer than ever and we've reconnected with my older brother. There was that one missing piece though. We planned everything out. My mom wanted to be cremated and spread over our great-grandmother's grave up here in Illinois. We decided that all of Mom's kids should be there for that, including my little brother Hank so we started planning everything around him because he's currently incarcerated in Florida. He is being released on February 1 and what seemed like a day we should be celebrating is becoming more of a day to dread.

I hadn't talked to my brother in quite a while because I couldn't afford the phone-an-inmate cost. I thought it was kismet when I found the $50 gift card my mom had given me for Christmas. It's what Mom would have wanted, I told myself as I put the money on my phone account. Three calls in and I was asking for a refund.

I posted the picture of my stress rash and it still hasn't gone away. If anything, it's gotten worse. My tongue had sores on it for over a week now, my teeth have been super sensitive and sore because I clench them so much, all due to stress. It hasn't been fun the past couple of weeks.

My mom had been there for every one of us. She would give you the shirt off her back and the food in her pantry, not asking a single question about where you've been or where you're going. She was just that kind of person. Especially with her kids. Hank and I were known as "the babies" until recently really. We got the last of what Mom had. My dad was hard to deal with at times, for many reasons, but Hank's rule-breaking and self-entitlement was more than enough to drive anyone crazy. He was thrown into juvenile facilities, county lock-up, and finally about five years ago, he went to the big house. He's since become an overly-tattooed racist. I don't care if it's a way to survive prison or if it's his actual personality, I'm not in the mood to deal with it.

My mom's ashes sat in front of me as I listened to him tell me that she'd given everything to him. The house, the car (which legally belongs to my sister anyway), everything. He wanted me to mail the car keys to my older brother so Hank will have them when he gets out. Today, instead of "How are you? How you holding up?", it was "So you're sending the keys, right?" No. No, I'm not. No one is sending keys anywhere. Then he tells me that he's going to use the car to take his driver's test and then he'll probably trade it in or sell it. With no regard to Mom or what she went through for him, he was still thinking all about himself. Hey, asshole, Mom has bills that need to be paid. If anyone is going to sell the car, it will be the owner of said car and it will be going towards the bills that were just dropped onto our laps. Not yours because you don't give two spits about anyone but yourself.

I spoke my peace to him and after he hung up on me, he called me back to tell me that he couldn't have negative people in his life so he couldn't be around me anymore. Fine. You just lost the last person you had. I've stood up for you in every conversation and every argument. My sisters have become annoyed with me because I was doing what Mom did and that was defending you. We defended you when no one else would and you spit on us both. You can say or do what you want when it comes to me, but don't you dare disrespect my mom. She was driven to an early grave because she couldn't leave you behind and she was so worried about you. You didn't deserve half of what she gave you and I hope you understand that one day, and I know that one day will be the day hell freezes over.

I'm getting refunded $35 because I closed my phone account. I'm done with you. I refuse to waste anymore of my energy on you.