The Dysfunctional Family

Now that I know the whole truth and nothing but the truth about my mom's will and my sib's crazed reaction to it, I still dislike her intensely, but I don't feel as depressed. (it's amazing what a little forced honesty can do.) Still, ever since the funeral, we have been officially estranged, and I like it that way. Sure, I miss not having a close relative to bear my soul to (as if I would choose the OCS sib to give away my most private thoughts!), but c'est la vie, right? About six or seven years pass and we don't speak. But I still am able to gather information via Google and Facebook. I still exchange pleasantries with my niece on FB. She posts photos, and I'm able to get the latest comings and goings of the sib and her family. She even invites me to a few birthday parties, which of course I pass up. I'd have to have my head examined (which in fact I do on a monthly basis) to subject myself to the OCS sib and her tribe. Besides, I think this niece

Safe in Arizona, about 2,500 miles away from the OCS sib, I realize that I'm still under her metaphorical thumb. She is the executrix of mom's will and as noted before, has refused to give me copies of the financial statements on my mom's estate. I figure I'll go to the financial consultant directly and ask her for copies, but she defers to my sib, who, as we all know, had manipulated my cognitively deficient mom into signing everything over to her eldest daughter. So I'm stuck with dealing with an OCS relative. Mix relation with OCS and money and you get what I got: a maybe fair accounting and distribution of the estate. The OCS adult doesn't know the word "equal." He or she knows "sequel," and that translates to more, more, more for the OCS. I'm not accusing my OCS sib of cheating me (that might be conceivably construed as slander or libel), but her actions gave the appearance of it. Plus her personal accountant did the math, and th

Mom's transfer to the West Orange facility supposedly guaranteed her better dementia care, but it turns out that the sib was bamboozled into accepting this as fact. It was dementia unit in name only. I pleaded with the nurse assistant at the Somerset nursing home to spend some time each week with mom. She agrees and reports that the unit's decor is dreary. Within 10 days of her transfer, the facility reports that my mom can't control herself--that she reaches out and touches other patients. Duh. Isn't this expected of dementia patients. Besides I know plenty of "normal" people who do the same. The nursing home sends her to a hospital, and when I speak to the charge nurse there she tells me that patients are often sent there if the nursing home deems they may be a danger to themselves or others. The nurse assistant I hired visits mom at the hospital and reports that ironically she is getting better care there than at the West Orange facility. But they cannot

Consistency is something you can count on with the OCS adult. In a weird way they're predictable. When the behavior or the offense is minor, you often feel bored or taken advantage of. For example, everyone knows the story of Cinderella. Well, the stepmother is an OCS adult with nasty intents. She forces Cinderella to work like a slave, won't allow her to go to the ball and tries to prevent the prince from fitting the glass slipper on Cinderella's foot. She's only interested in her own agenda, no doubt about it, but what certifies her as an OCS is her self-aggrandizing perspective. My sib had similar characteristics. She chose a nursing home with adequate credentials, but after seeing the individual care mom received, she failed to look at it from mom's perspective. Due to her dementia, Mom needed even more of the  attention and compassion she received as a normal functioning adult. If you don't already know this, nursing homes are really energized by the n

To refresh your mind, the last time we saw my sib (the OCS I've profiled here), everyone was celebrating my niece's wedding. I'm staying at my mom's condo, so I  hang out with her new friends, a couple about her age who recently moved into her residential community. As we talk, I gather a few more clues about my mom's physical and mental condition. She is now having problems telling time, and she calls up her new friends many times a day. The news isn't good. I fear the worst. Over the next few months Mom has to recuperate from a heart attack, and my sib and I agree that an assisted living facility should be the next move. Up to now the sib and I are more or less on the same page. Soon this change. When finances rear their ugly heads, I learn that somehow my sister has prevailed on my mother to sign over all her monies and house to my sister. All documents are now in my sib's name. The condo will be up for sale, and my sister has deposited my mom's inh

Due to recent deaths in my family, I decide to reconnect with some of my Florida cousins. It takes me a few out-of-state social visits, but eventually--and unfortunately--I uncover another OCS person in my family. Surprise! Older than me, petite and extremely energetic, my cousin has all the makings of  a great role model for aging. I figure I can learn a few things to enhance my life skills. Boy was I wrong! At first, I was totally taken in by her niceness, her politesse. She seemed really happy to have me join her family and friends at the reunion venue at a Florida motel on the East coast of central Florida. We caught up on family happenings, and Barb seemed genuinely interested in my recent book publication of a biography on Beyonce. When the reunion ended, we pledged to stay in touch and we did, so much so, in fact, that my husband and I returned a year later to Florida for the wedding of Barb's niece. At that affair Barb and I didn't get a lot of "chat" time

Before you go assuming that my sib is the only OCS person I know and have contact with, let me put your mind at ease. The OCS person--whether child or adult--is as common as cockroaches and come to think of it, they're just as hearty. I've been told by entomologists that if Russia, Iran, or North Korea don't play nice and we end up suffering through a nuclear winter, there will still be cockroaches to feast on. Happy thought!  I guess it would follow that OCS humans would be the first homosapiens to return to Earth. As I was planning to say before I interrupted myself, I had a friend for more than 25 years who was an OCS. Of course for most of that time I was ignorant of this because I was either just plain stupid or I have a propensity to associate with self-absorbed people. I have a sneaking suspicion that I could be both, but that's my depression talking and I'd really like to give it the day off. So we can safely say that Toni, the friend I've known fore