The Fiasco

This is the event that began to bring my mother's true colors to light for the rest of the family. This is the time when my sister and I solidified the relationship that had begun to come together in December. This is the moment that I realized when I remembered, what I remembered wasn't skewed. It just wasn't right or normal.

January was a difficult month for me migraine-wise. I thought I'd lose my mind. I had 16 days of full-fledged migraines. In the middle of this my mom called. We had just gotten back from a trip to see Joe and Blythe and she wanted to know if they'd talked about her.

"No," I said.

"I'm not surprised."

"Why?"

"They've defaulted on a loan that I made them."

It seems that they needed some money to sit in the bank for their loan approval. $4000, and they asked Mother. She agreed. The loan was for two months. Mother said they were two months late and she called Joe about it before we went to see them and Joe yelled at her. He told her he had no intention of paying the loan. That she'd made it as a gift to them.

Well, this was all a surprise to me. I sputtered a few things. I wasn't sure what I said. I tried to stay as neutral as possible. Ron was out of town. Mother said that she had an appointment with a lawyer and that at the very least she intended to ruin Joe's credit. She intended to ruin his credit? This is her grandchild she's talking about isn't it? I mumble a few things trying still to remain neutral, yet supportive. I wanted to hang up.

I couldn't call Ron because I know he's at a dinner, so I sent him an email. He needed to know in case something happened. Turned out that Ron had talked with Joe over the weekend. Joe had agreed to pay Mother back by the end of January.

After Joe talked with both of us, he called Mother. Mother was very short with him, but we have the phone records that he's called. Good thing.

In the meantime Mother mailed us a copy of the check. The check was dated November 8. This is very interesting. How can it be two months overdue if is was dated November 8 and now is just mid-January? Joe said that they had a verbal agreement for payment at the end of January. He's upset over her behavior. Blythe is upset. Ron and I are caught dead center.

The next Sunday we went out to eat. At this point Mother said she needed to talk with us.

"OK."

"I know I was a foolish old woman for loaning Joe the money, but you weren't completely honest with me."

"What?" we ask.

"I'm not going to say anything else," she says.

"You can't drop that bombshell in our laps and quit talking."

"I'm finished with this discussion," she replies.

Now this is common for her. She makes a jab and retreats. But I'm not a kid anymore. I've come to grips with lots of things in my adult life and I don't let up. And Ron's sitting there too. It's not just me anymore.

"The night I called Bitsy, she said, 'You'd think he'd outgrow that kind of thing by now.' You should have told me he had a history of not repaying his debts."

Well! I don't even remember saying that! I was just forming sentences. I was just stringing words. I was trying for noncommittal. So much for that effort. I tried to explain that wasn't what I meant. Ron and I had already shared with her before lunch about how bad a month January had been. We'd already told her about all the migraines, about the different meds, about the crying fits, about the night we got in the car to go to a Wake game with customers and he had to bring me home because I couldn't stop crying and she latched on to one phrase I said.

"You're right. I'm just a stupid old woman." She actually said that.

At this lunch, we told her that we'd talked to Joe and that he told us he'd called her. She called him a liar. We had his cell phone records though. He wasn't the one lying. We also had the copy of the check she said she never got.

We tried to placate her, but this was the beginning of the end. She wrote her grandchild off. If we were Jewish, he'd be dead.