#like bc you're MAD at him for not letting you facetime with your grandmother who has DEMENTIA

[thebestpersonherelovesbucky]

Some of you might remember about two months ago when I needed to vent about my horrible bitch face cousin, Barbara. 

Well.

I need to vent again.

Yesterday was my aunt’s funeral/memorial. It was an extremely emotional day. Top off with a lovely serving of “are you fucking kidding me?”. 

Let’s start off with our arrival at the church. On the positive side, despite the pandemic, there was an overwhelming turnout. So many people loved this woman. 

The first person we’re greeted by is Barbara’s brother; let’s call him Paschall. I haven’t seen him in several years. I could be mad about that, but I’m not cause he’s sort of just an airhead who means well and has admitted that it was wrong that no one ever came to help us with our grandmother. We hug. I hold him as he starts to cry.

Next, I see Barbara’s older sister ((the oldest of the three)) who we’ll call Rachel. Rachel hugs me and tells me she loves my hair ((it’s currently violet)).

This is all in the lobby of the church where there are poster boards with pictures of my aunt. We’ll...get back to those.

Finally, we meet up with Barbara. 

This is the first time we have any interaction with her since my first venting post about the situation. But the day was not about her ((or so we thought)) and we approach her with kindness and sympathy, which she receives the way any nice person might. We hug. She tells us that we should sit up in the front bc we’re family. ((very kind of her, right?))

But we go and up in front of the altar, where the urn would be placed, were more pictures. One of just my aunt. One of her and my uncle’s wedding. And one of her and Barbara. JUST HER AND BARBARA. Not a picture of her and all three of her children. Just her and Barbara. 

The mass starts ((Catholic)) and the procession is made up of Paschall, one of Barbara’s sons...and her fucking husband. 

Now, I don’t want to just to conclusions. I think to myself, well, maybe they asked Dad if he would be part of it and he was too upset to do it. But...nope. No, no. Barbara, who basically took over and in my uncle’s grief, took advantage and just made everything to her specifications, had her son and her husband over my aunt’s fucking brother in the service. 

For those of you not familiar with a Catholic Mass/funeral, it typically involves 3 people giving readings (the first reading from the Old Testament, a psalm, the second reading from the New Testament), the Priest reading a passage from the Gospel and He then gives His homily/sermon. The first three readings, in a service such as this, are usually done by members of the deceased family. The surviving family members ask someone to read and it’s actually an honor to be asked. 

The people who read were a niece from my uncle’s side of the family, a friend of their family, and a nephew from my uncle’s side of the family.

I am 100% not saying that my uncle’s side of their family is any less part of her family than ours, but...my siblings and I are her brother’s children. I’m her goddaughter. We weren’t asked to do anything. 

And my youngest sister is an accomplished singer. She’s sung as baseball games and other events. We thought the young girl singing in church just happened to sing at the church. 

Nope. 

No, she was the daughter of Barbara’s friend.

During the Priest’s sermon, he never mentioned our side of the family once. Obviously, this is not his fault if he was not made aware of us, but he kept referring to my aunt as a wife, a mother, and a friend. She was my father’s sister. And her mother is still alive, albeit sick with dementia and in a nursing home and doesn’t even know any of us anymore, and we’re still trying to heal from caretaker burnout but...never mentioned her. 

Because of social distancing, we were sitting behind my parents and I could see how my father was visibly hurt more and more as the service went on.

And just guess who gave the Eulogy? Go on! Guess! I bet you only need one try! 

BARBARA!!!

And she continued to make it ALL.ABOUT.HER. She barely mentioned her siblings, she talked about her husband and her children, and she couldn’t even be bothered to mention my father by name the one time she said anything about him. Which was, and I quote “she spent time in the summers with her brother.” 

As if they didn’t grow up together. As if ((until Barbara changed all our traditions)) we didn’t spend holidays together. As if he was just this one-off side character in her life. 

It should go without saying that the rest of us weren’t mentioned either. 

But! She was kind enough to mention our grandmother and basically said that if she wasn’t in a nursing home now, that she’d’ve been there with us. Like...

No, Barbara, she has dementia. She’s in a place where she’s safe. And this may come as a surprise to you, but actually trying to take care of someone with a disease like that isn’t fucking easy. But see, she wouldn’t know, bc she only helped with her own mother for maybe an hour or two at a time and only if my uncle took her kids ((I won’t sell her completely short, she did help once she was in a home. Very convenient, right?)) and she never helped with my grandmother save for the one time she came to do her hair. As a hairdresser, you’d think she’d’ve come to help with her hair so that we didn’t need to, huh? Of course, not.

The whole time she was delivering her Eulogy, Rachel didn’t even look up. Not once. She was pissed. In fact, when Barbara finished, Paschall got up to hug her, Rachel did not move. Not until Barbara actually came into the pew for one. Telling. Very telling. 

Anyway, the service ends and remember those pictures in the front of the church I mentioned earlier? 

Now we get a chance to really look at them. 

My aunt’s life clearly did not start until Barbara was born. 

One picture with her and my dad. Two pictures with her and our grandmother. Zero pictures of her and our grandfather. None when she was a little girl. A few with her other kids. Her and my uncle. TONS with Barbara and her children. And...a whole lot with her and Barbara’s IN-LAWS. 

I just...

And it’s not like she didn’t have pictures to use. WE sent her a whole bunch! Before the first round of bullshit!! Us being kind and trying to send her memories of her and her mother and it was like we didn’t fucking exist. 

And that, guys, gals, and nb pals, is how to make someone else’s funeral all about you. 

Oh, PS:

She also said to my brother “I wish I could go see grandma and do her hair for her. I hate that I can’t.”

My brother, to us, was like “Thanks, Barbara, where’ve you been the last half a decade???”