A Shameful Family Affair

In my wonderful mother's later, almost totally blind years, due to macular degeneration, it was sad to see my own eldest brother and sisters, nephews and nieces, treat my mother like a blithering idiot. All they wanted was for her to die soon and leave them all her money.

One of my nieces went to stay with my mother, supposedly to look after her. The selfish girl betrayed my mother’s trust by stealing her bank card and using it to withdraw cash for her own selfish means. My mother had entrusted her pin number to the girl so she could use the card for shopping.

One day, my mother was asking the girl if she had seen her card, as she seemed to have lost it. The girl threw the card on the floor, right next to my mother’s bed. “Oh look, Nanna,” the girl said “it’s right here on the floor next to your bed. That’s the problem with being blind Nanna, you don’t see things.” The girl’s big mistake was to confuse blind with stupid.

My mother went to the bank alone, with her white stick, and asked the female teller about any recent transactions on her account. The figures revealed that the girl had quite literally been robbing my mother blind.

My elder brother was no better. He took my mother into his care and had her unwittingly sign a power of attorney, giving him control of all of her finances and assets.

He then put my mother’s house up for sale, hoping to pocket all of the equity for himself. Again, my mother was not as stupid as he thought.

Once my brother had my mother ensconced in his house, he intentionally failed to properly care for her, in the hope that she would soon pass away from neglect.

Mum soon cottoned on to his intention and asked him to take her home to collect some personal things. He took her home, and as soon as she set foot back in her own house, she told him home was where she would stay, his little game was up and to never speak to her ever again.

Eventually, my eldest sister stepped in and professed to have my mother’s real interests at heart. We all fell for her seemingly sincere promises, only to later find out that she was the biggest thief of the lot. Almost all of Mum’s money was syphoned off into money laundering bank accounts, not even in the country.

Two of my other, younger sisters, also tried to take my lovely old mum to the cleaners. And to add salt to the injury, they also bullied, insulted, humiliated and demeaned her. When I found out I was furious.

I told Mum I was going to step in and sort the little witches out. Mum begged me not to get involved. She said that if I did, as soon as I left to go home, they would go around to her house to give her a very hard time.

In the end, my mother had the last word. She totally disinherited four of her eight children. Having passed away, she was safely beyond their evil reach, though it did not stop them from trying.

One day, the week of the funeral, the two younger, evil sisters were so, so angry at being cut from my mother’s will, they went mob-handed to mum’s house. Mum, not yet buried, reposed in her coffin in her own house, for those who knew and loved her to go and pay their last respects and say an emotional goodbye.

As the diplomatic, pacifist of the family, I went out to speak to them as they stood on the front path screaming and shouting at the tops of their voices. I politely asked them to leave and was suddenly physically, brutally attacked by the little witches.

One held me by the throat whilst the other beat the shit out of my face, leaving me with a broken pair of spectacles and lots of scratches and bruises. Then, like the little cowards that they were, they simply ran off back to their cars.

I must mention at this point, both of these individuals are nurses in a state hospital, specialising in care for the elderly! If I could name and shame them without being prosecuted for defamation, I would.

As there was no love lost between us I called the police and asked for them to be charged. The police took photographs of my injuries and said they would get back to me.

A few days later, I asked the police if they had arrested and charged my ex sisters. I was astounded when the police told me that they do not arrest wrongdoers, anymore.

They have to invite the offenders to go of their own free will to the police station, on a day and at a time convenient for them. Really? Is that what we do these days with all offenders? Murderers, Serial Killers, Mass Shooters?

“Dear sir, or madam, we would be ever so grateful if you could, at your convenience, pop into the station and have a cosy little chat with us about the seven dead bodies buried in your basement. Please let us know in advance when you can make it so we can get the coffee and biscuits ready for your arrival. Yours sincerely, the police.”

In the end, I was informed by the police that the CPS (Crown Prosecution Service) had declared my case not to be in the public interest to pursue. Am I not the public then? Am I not entitled to some form of justice? It seems not.

The upside of losing my mum, if I can put it that way, is that I no longer have to tolerate my disgustingly horrible ex-brothers and sisters. Mum used to be the only reason I ever had to have any contact with them at all.

Now they are all dead to me, all but one out of the seven. My youngest brother is a lovely lad and he is all I need. Suffice it to say, he too was abused by the rutting pig siblings.

So, back to the main subject of this article, getting old. If the abuse my mother was subject to, by her own selfish children, was any indication of what was in store for me, I am happy to be estranged from my own four children.

Back in 2010 I certainly saw some early signs of potential future abuse. My youngest daughter called me a perve and a homophobe (I am neither) in a very insulting tone of voice, just to get a laugh from her elder sister and her friend. The cheap-trick, idea was to demean and humiliate me for a laugh.

When I reacted by giving my daughter a stern telling-off in the privacy of my kitchen, she did not take it well. In fact, my daughter has not spoken a word to me since, and that was thirteen years ago.

My mother used to say “Those who dish it out can seldom take a plate full themselves.” Blind she may have been, but right to the end my mother’s mind was as bright and sharp as a pin.

Another thing my mum used to say was the problem with getting old is that you become invisible. That is unless you have a bank account full of money and your own valuable house. Oh to be a fly on the wall after I pass when my four discover I have left them nothing, nothing but the truth.

In the end, my mother had the last laugh on those who treated her appallingly. She found a way to outsmart them, even if it was after her passing.

My one abiding memory is, I could believe how anybody could abuse an elderly, disabled and/or vulnerable parent. To think, that parent bore you, she nurtured and provided for you all of her life, with food and clothing and a roof over your head. She even did without herself at times, just so that you could eat.

In my case, I will never, ever forgive nor forget those horrible people who dared to do that to my beloved mother. And I will most certainly never allow my own offspring to treat me in that way. More fool them if they try.