RIP

My brother called me and told me our mother's husband was dead. He then told me to do with that information what I would. He knows we weren't close. At the best of times, we just tolerated each other. Though it was barely that, to be honest.

He survived my mother by just over ten years, living on land given to her by my grandparents. He lived there because my brother let him and because he really had no other place to go. I think my brother felt like he was the last link to our mother, perhaps it was her last wish to have him there.

I realize I sound unfeeling here but there is reason. This man wasn't the worst husband she ever had, but he certainly wasn't a gem either. He was emotionally abusive to her. He was a dick about all of her ideas. He thought he knew best when he knew nothing about this area, these people, or our lives. I like to think she would have eventually come to her senses and kicked him out the door, but she was with him for years before she died, so I guess that's actually unlikely.

My body is responding strangely to this. I don't feel like myself. I guess I mostly feel bad because my brother is having to handle all of this. He always liked the man more than I did. I have no idea why. Then again, he always bought into mom's propaganda more than I did.

I don't know. Maybe I feel weird because it is one last connection to my mom that is now gone. I just feel odd.

Despite all of my personal issues, I do wish him peace now that he's gone. Hopefully he'll find good things in the next life.