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[eipsanda1cs]

I think he did something to her, Do you??

If 2022 was a sandwich…this one is layered with losing my mom, a con artist/rapist/arsonist/potential murderer/stolen valor trying to destroy everything in his path and topped off with very dark secrets.

February of this year was the worst month of my life. It was the month that at 39 years old; I was now an orphan. I know it may sound crazy but you can feel like an orphan at 39. It’s now November 28th and since February 14th 2022, I’ve been living in my personal own dateline episode. Unfortunately, no Keith Morrison, who is so effortlessly cool. The lean with the arms crossed. Fonz who? Keith Morrison will never jump the shark.

Feb 14th started the longest short stretch of 10 days that changed my life forever. They rushed my mom to the ER. She had a brain aneurysm, and it wasn’t looking good. The first 2 days were very touch and gone but she made it. The Drs were amazed. She had a long road ahead, but that was one tough woman who grew up in the Bronx. She could navigate any stoop, block, corner, save, country road or interstate. She was headed back on track. I’ll never forget Feb 22nd. I spoke to my mom daily while she was in the hospital. I spoke to her that day. I learned she was getting the drain out of her head. She was moving floors and my mom was looking better by the minute. Around 5pm I get a call from her husband. We were not on speaking terms for 2 years prior to this, but that’s something I’ll get back to. It breaks down to I don’t tolerate racism, hypocrisy and liars. In the sole interest of my mom’s health, I was being kind.

The phone rings at 5pm. That man we begged her not to marry years ago is mad. Mad Mad. His first visit was that day because of Covid. Doing what he did best, he spoke about himself the whole time. My mom, doing what she had so long ago forgot to do, told him to shhh, it’s not the (insert random enemies' name here). He was mad. He called me on the phone and started trash talking to her. Hello McStupid, this is my mom and if she wasn’t in there, we wouldn’t be talking. Watch your mouth, troll! We hang up and 2 hours later my sister calls me to let me know “Mom’s in a coma, she’s braindead and we need to get to Florida right away. We live in NY. The next morning my sister hops on a plane. My brother-in-law, 2 nieces and I get in the car and drive straight thru. We get to the hospital and the woman at the desk decides she’s going to give me a hard time. She is sassing me. I’ve just sat in a van from NY straight thru close to Miami. It’s that time of the month. I have swamp ass and oh yeah, I’m going to see my mom for the last time while she lays in a coma and is brain dead. She gets nasty and all the lessons I’ve learned since having children fly out the window. Here comes the mouth that works similar to a fully automatic rifle. She tells me she knows I’m from NY because I’m rude and my accent. She tells me she’s British. I tell her a spoon full of sugar will help my fist go in her face and the next thing I remember is being pulled from the desk.

We finally get thru the red tape and the next person running interference is the troll. It was the strangest thing. He made these wailing like noises and his appearance looked like he might cry, but there was absolutely not a tear. Not one tear. I let it go and my sister takes me in the room with the life support patients and I look for my mom. Surely this person in front of me is not my mom. My sister informs me it is and I lose it. Maybe disbelief, but these last 2 days I was certain everyone was wrong and my mom would tell me which celebrity was Jewish and how so and so was so young and she can’t believe they were dead. Not her, though. Not my mom. Yes, it was. That person in that bed is an image I will never get out of my head. Every time I try to fall asleep, there it is. I was the last person with her. They took her off the machines. The whole time I’m making promises to God that in no way, shape, or form did I may make, but if she came alive, I was going to figure out how to honor them. My mom passed as I ran my fingers thru her hair. Not knowing if she heard anything, I told her. How sorry I was for every disappointment I blew her away in my younger days.

I come out of the room and I see my sister, Brother in Law and nieces. The troll is there too. He begins by telling us no one loved our mother more than him. This undefined noise was something between a sick whale and blown speaks on a fire truck with the sirens on. I just promised my mom for the first time that I wouldn’t fight with him the whole time I’m there. I had to honor that. He made it damn near impossible, though. He orders immediate cremation with no autopsy. My mom never wanted to speak about plans for death. She didn’t have a will. She didn’t have many assets, but she didn’t want to be cremated. My mom was proud to be Jewish. She wasn’t Shabbat Shalomin ever Friday, but she practiced every holiday and loved the cultural aspect of being a Jewish girl from the Bronx. We don’t do cremations. He told us he would bury her in Florida so we would have to travel to go visit her. We decided since he lived in Florida and us in NY, we will do the cremation and split the Ashes. (So strange).

This is the point where it takes a turn as we go head first into my personal roller coaster of true crime. See you in a day or 2.