Wingless Vultures Ride The Current of Death

I smell vulnerability.

My stories are neither new nor uncommon. I know this because between support groups and happenstance, I have heard too many variations of them to say anything but they are all too common.

When someone dies, the wingless vultures, sensing the current, come swooping in to scavenge whatever they can. These people act like they are at some sort of end-of garage sale give-away. The practice, and all that it implies, all the nastiness that comes with it, disgusts me on a visceral level. I have taken the high road on this particular avenue, not because I am some kind of saint, but because I am exhausted; because I know the best thing given to me by those I have lost cannot be taken from me -- the love and memories, the legacy of people themselves. However, when I know the deceased had wishes to be carried out, do not get in my way as I see to exactly that.

When my late husband died, a couple of his out-of-state family members showed up at my house. I had never met them, and that was intentional, as my late husband didn't really want to cut them out of his life completely, but he didn't want them around his wife and children, either. Just to say how close he was with them, my late husband had an entire previous marriage of which they had no knowledge. He traveled for a living, and when he ended up in their area, sometimes he would visit. He always had his dog with him, so these family members knew her, and just as everyone did, loved her. My late husband was killed on his motorcycle when a driver made a left turn directly in front him. I don't think I will ever forget the call I got from one of those family members, pissed that she had not been able to obtain many of his belongings, "If you really loved him, why weren't you with him that day?"

Picked Dry.

 And, as if she had no understanding of the immediate legally binding contract of marriage, "You're living in his house, using his truck, and keeping his dog."

It turned out, they were after his truck and his dog. My late husband had spent years building that truck with a stepson from a previous marriage, one he was still in contact with up until his death. He wanted the stepson to have the truck, and so that is where it went. As for the dog, she came with the man when I married him, and then she quickly became family.

When my mother passed, I was devastated, but I was not new. In fact, I had seen it all coming nine months before her death, when her husband had already passed and her health was failing, a family member had suddenly waltzed back into her life after eight years, as if nothing had ever happened. I told my mom my concerns, but I also told her it was her life, and it had nothing to do with me. I loved her, and I respected her choices, and I did. I stayed out of it, knowing what was coming, but keeping it to myself.

Sure enough, and this time I have had to stay one step ahead to ensure my mother's final wishes were granted. It angers me that I have never been allowed to grieve without having to keep my guard up constantly, but perhaps that is another post. Protecting a loved one's closing request is the last thing I can do for the loved one. That is sacred to me, but I would do it for a total stranger because once someone is not here to speak or act for him/herself, then someone should be there to do it for them and exactly as requested.

When my late husband passed away, no one entered my home without my permission, so no one took items from us in that way. Things that were loaned out before his death were not returned, and so things were stolen that way. However, my mother did not live alone, and my sister gained entry before I did. I know she made some things disappear before I got there. I know because I knew those things existed, and I knew where they were kept. She also wanted the majority of my mother's furniture. I didn't realize it until I was standing in my mom's bedroom, but my mom must have also seen this coming because months before, she had insisted I take all the family heirlooms home with me. Every one of them. She also left some things in my name, and in only my name. It didn't even take two hours after my arrival for me to be told, "You know, she wanted to change (these things) before she died."

Did she now? You see, what they don't know, and what I do know, is my mom. Not only was she very smart, but she and I knew each other well. This is why she trusted me. Had she wanted to make any changes, one phone call to me would have done it because she knew I would not deny her request, even if it disgusted me, and she knew that because she knew me. Odd then, how she never said anything to me, this woman who kept me informed every step of the way and on subjects a lot of people avoid as if the topic itself will cause fire to rain down upon us all. I am my mother's daughter; she was also one step ahead.