Mother Millrat left this world. I missed seeing her alive by all of 20 minutes. That after driving 23 hours to see her. It seems that the nearby children chose to commit her to a poverty ward run by a local religious outfit, rather than care for her.
No arrangements were made, so I signed the documents required for her cremation. She always told me that she took up little space in the world, she felt no need to take up valuable ground space in her death.
As my siblings converged in town, I saw little reason to attend the memorial they arranged. It seems it was an occasion to get drunk and call me to tell me what a horrible person I am. I asked each of them if they felt better after their rant.
I grew up on welfare. From the time I was 12, until the time I joined the Navy, every dime I made went into supporting the household. Mom re-married and had no need of my support when I left. I never looked back.
I was told last week that I am the reason she was locked up in that home, because they did not know how to reach me. And yet they reached me at the last possible moment. Funny that.
The last time I saw mother Millat was in the late '90s. She came to visit. She owned her home, bought her youngest son his home as a refuge to old age with a guarantee to have a home for life. When I saw her a week ago Tuesday, all of her earthly belongings fit into a 1 gallon zip-loc baggie.
During our week in Florida, I had 2 dreams of Mom. In the first, we were having coffee in our old home. She told me it was good to see me and my newest son, but that we needed to leave before the other kids came, because things would get hectic when they arrived. (Her and I often chatted over coffee).
In the 2nd dream, she told me not to own my siblings' guilt. I followed her advice. All I can say is hold your parents close, and your siblings at arm's reach if you have a family like mine.
And listen to the dreams when they come.
Millrat
10:09 PM PT: Thanks to all for your support. It was an amazing week in many ways.