My brother was disappointed that he had misinterpreted the letter from the Social Security office. He had made decisions based on receiving a larger payout from mother's claim. However, he didn't stay upset long. He was a creative man and didn't rely on only one source of income. We began rounding up mother's affairs so that everyone could finally grieve in their own way.
The Social Security account was reconciled, and everyone received their money, except my twin brother; he would have to wait until he got out of jail. Interacting with my siblings was now different. For years, most of them didn't want anything to do with mother, and now they had genuine tears that only they knew the meaning behind.
I remember not understanding how my brothers and sisters could let our mother end up in a homeless shelter. To say she wasn't perfect would be an understatement, but homeless? Our mother? I attached this same disregard to how they were older than me but allowed predators to harm and take advantage of their underage sister. Then I had to remove my approach to healing with mother and understand that trauma triggers many emotions, including rejection and neglect. Mother's poor choices left mental and physical scars; the same way I felt about our grandmother was the same way they felt about mother. Their tears no doubt had many meanings, one of which I imagine formed from mourning the mother we had and the one they wished we'd had.
I remember being so angry with my siblings, and then one day it hit me—they did the best they could.
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