Oh because even when I was flat broke

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten 

Part Eleven

Bev and I drifted apart after the last confrontation, partially because I was starting to see her for what she was and partially because I had graduate, so was no longer going to her house after school every day.

She didn't like this.

Upon graduation, I met a guy named Dave who was a few years older than me. He was also from a very traditional, devout family who had him convinced that - at 21 - he was far too old to be unmarried. Within three weeks of dating, he was pressuring me about marriage. I was only 18, had just graduated high school (read: didn't have a clue what I wanted to do with my life), and had watched my mother go through three marriages. Needless to say, I did not take his pressure kindly. After explaining this to him, and him not being able to stop, I ended up breaking up with him. He threatened suicide. That was awesome.

Not long after that, I met Matt, which was a disaster and a half. Then Jeff, which was another disaster and a half. I continued working in Big Box Retail Store hell (was there for 10.5 years, and it was soul-crushing). I started university with the intention of getting into teaching, but after taking an Intro to Criminal Justice course, completely changed my mind.

I dated a handful of guys, all briefly. I seemed to break things off before they went too far or got too serious (read: the sex); I have a feeling it was lingering bullshit from Matt. When I turned 19, I turned into a bit of a "bar star" in that I was there pretty much every weekend and often both Friday and Saturday nights (what can I say? I'm from a small town with noth.ing. to do). I wasn't a big drinker, volunteering to be the designated driver the majority of the time.

Fast forward a few years. Mom had to have a hysterectomy for a fibroid tumor that had grown to the size of her uterus (because she hadn't had a pap test in EIGHT YEARS. Get tested regularly, ladies!). We were having a family dinner the night before because - much like with them going anywhere by plane - she was superstitious-ish about anesthetic and getting in "one more dinner" with her family, "just in case."

She had been really stressed out by the upcoming operation; the more time that passed with no call from Bev, the angrier she got: Bev had a hysterectomy years before, but she'd been through it, so surely she could have told Mom what to expect. Instead, Bev chose to call the night before, interrupting dinner, to do nothing but talk about Donna (even though Mom had asked asked Bev MULTIPLE times not to discuss Donna with her: at Taylor's 5th birthday, Donna got it in her head that Mom and a friend were talking about her, so she grabbed our cousin and stormed out. She CHOSE not to speak to Mom - or the rest of us - after that. They still don't speak). Mom was understandably annoyed and got off the phone.

The day after her surgery, Gramps called to talk to Brad, saying that Bev felt "uncomfortable" visiting Mom in the hospital because she felt like she "wasn't welcome." Brad finally had enough and told Gramps that he, Bev, and Mom had a lot of things to discuss. That was the last time we heard from them.

A few months later, Taylor got a card with a cheque in the mail from the grandparents. Two weeks later, I got an empty card. I thought it was odd, but thought maybe Bev forgot to put the birthday cheque in the card. I stopped in to see Gramps not long after and found him to be very brusque and cold; the only reason I could come up with was that I hadn't gushed over my $0.37 card from a random box of impersonal Amway cards - rude, sure, but I didn't really feel that deserved gushing over.

Six weeks later, Nick got a card... with a cheque in the mail. It became plainly evident that I had been excluded on purpose, although none of us could figure out why. All these years later, all we could come up with was that they figured I was my mother's daughter and had no brain or opinion of my own, so if Mom wasn't talking to them (or they weren't talking to her), I was persona non grata as well.

That Christmas, they pulled the same shit: dropped off cards with cheques at Dad's for Nick and Taylor with nothing for me. 17-year old Nick got in his car, drove to their house, and handed back his card, telling them that if they weren't going to acknowledge his sister, he didn't want their gift either. That's when Bev got on the phone and - IN FRONT OF NICK - demanded I "name [my] price." Any amount: she'd write a cheque if *I* would stop ignoring THEM. 1) *I* wasn't the one who stopped talking to them, and b) how could she SAY that in front of Nick? "Oh, you're only worth $100, but your sister's worth ANY amount."

Mind? BLOWN.