Noded on July 12, 2014.
grundoon died on March 29, 2012, the day after my birthday.
I saw her last on March 22, 2012, the day before hers. Not the most fun birthday year we'd ever had.
Over the weekend between me seeing her and her death, the ex-boyfriend moved out. I suppose trying to elicit anger by moving out at the meanest possible time but I was so numb I didn't care. Glad, really. I was tired of him trying to get me to carry his anger for the six months before that. Every time he tried, I'd cry. I had LOTS to cry about and lots of grief.
So grundoon died. Then I watched Facebook and the email and everything2 and I could see the court case coming like a fucking train.
I told my neice's birth father. He did not believe me. "Go bring her up here." I said. "Now. She can finish 8th grade and go to Mount Saint Helen's and bond with the incoming class."
"No." he said. "She wants to finish school there. She wants to stay a few weeks after school."
The memorial neared. I shut down Facebook, signed off everything2, tried to ignore the email. I asked to have my e2 account locked so I COULDN'T write on it. I was chasing the local bug, nearly panicked. Realized I had it. I had tickets to the memorial but I didn't want to go. Bam! My immune system said, "Your wish is our command!" and I was sick.... and sicker.... and septic. Emergency room twice. Went to my doctor. Frantically rattled cages, asked for help, took myself off work immediately. The night before the memorial, was hospitalized for observation. Septic but they decided I was nuts. Great. Thanks. Support from my peers.
Treated sepsis at home. Sick as snot. At one point I sat in my pink velvet chair with my eyes closed and thought, "All I have to do is not get up. I am losing 10 liters of fluid daily. I can feel it starting again. If I stop drinking to keep up, I will die. Fast."
I considered it. I was so fucking tired.
I got up. Two reasons. One was that I thought that if I died, Kwan Yin and my sister would meet me at the gates of Hell and scream at me: "You were supposed to take care of the fucking children!!!" The other was that I might not die. They might find me and the local hospital might pull their fucking heads out of their asses and pull me through. With a stroke or kidney failure or heart attack from low blood pressure. Then my kids would have to deal with that. Fuck. Also I'd promised my sister, "I will try to stop the Bad Pig from hurting anyone else." Even though I didn't know what the fuck she meant by the Bad Pig in her house. Greed. Envy. Untruthfulness. Any of the 7 deadly sins I suppose.
I continued to rattle my brother out laws cage as I recuperated. My so called family and the noders did not seem to give a shit that I had nearly crossed the River Charon* with my sister, but they were distracted by the Cult of Grundoon. I fucking hate cults. And fivenoders cared about me. Youse knows who youse are. Maybe five people caring is enough.
My brother out law put me on avoid and ignore, I was obviously nuts and obsessed.
Until today. Today the legal documents arrived and he showed up at my clinic.
"I can't believe she signed this." he said. "It says I haven't been an involved parent. It says she doesn't know me. It says she has no friends in our town."
"Yeah, well, we know those are lies. And I have 12 years worth of photos. You have the lawyer. I don't like lies and we are going to fight."
It was the day before my sister's daughter's 14th birthday, which is when the California courts will take the teen's wishes into consideration.
But courts, too, dislike lies. They do not like teens to lie and they don't like adults to encourage teens to lie. And neither do I.
And two years later, my question is, what game was my sister playing? She said to herself, when she didn't realize I was in the room, "I have to keep it all separate. I have to keep them separate." I said, "No, you don't anymore, do you? Can't you let it all come together?" She wouldn't answer.
She was subtler than me, for years. When I get upset, my black bat wings, fangs, claws, armor, sword, knives, katana, all pop out, like a super evil heroine's outfit. That is, I don't hide it too good. I don't know what she wanted, if there was a deeper game.
Dang sister. Trouble right from the start.
*River Styx. Fucking details. Charon is the boatwoman. She got tired of being a man and had a sex change. She spells it Sharon now.