It’s almost here, again. Christmas. The most dreaded time of the year.
Another year of nothing from my natural family. Another year of dealing with Ramona. I shouldn’t complain. I’ve been told by many people that my mother is the one who raised me. I wonder why I just can’t go along with the script and believe it.
I can’t stand Ramona. I never could. The worst part is, she lives with me, and I don’t know how to get away.
Some background: My adoptive father died in 1990. I am an only adopted child. Ramona was much too sickly to ever adopt again. Ramona owned an apartment, and lived alone. She never drove a car and was dependent on A dad for all her transportation. In 1997, I gave birth to my 4th child. My dear husband did not have a high paying job, and we were struggling. Our house was in desperate need of repairs, the taxes were overdue, you get the picture.
Ramona sold her place and moved in with us. I was reluctant, but my husband said, “keep your eye on the prize”. I wanted my children to grow up in a nice house, so I gave in. Ramona invested the money in the house, and we added an apartment for her, more bedrooms and a bigger kitchen. The house is great.
Cut to 20 years later. My kids are grown, but three of them still live at home. Ramona is still here. In fact she’s hovering over me right now. I took the day off from work, and promised to take her to the store, so she’s checking to see what time I’m going. Once she starts a conversation, it’s very hard to stop her. She asks question after question, until you want to tear your hair out.
She is 87 now, and in good health. I wish for her death everyday. My heart sinks when I hear the noises she makes when she gets up in the morning, because I know she lived through the night. Once she did not answers her phone, and I hoped for the worst, but she was alive. I feel like a monster.
She drives my daughters and husband crazy too. This morning I had to lead her out of the kitchen where my 29 year old daughter was making herself breakfast before heading out for the day. She just hovered, asking question after question, about Christmas gifts for her sister. I felt bad for DD, so I stepped in and took Ramona out.
Giving Christmas gifts is very important to Ramona. It’s one of the ways she earns her place. She pays rent, and buys some groceries also. We could live without her rent, but I can’t kick her out. She has no place else to go. We could sell the house, and move, but it would be expensive to find a place big enough for me and my family. If my girls ever move out, I would love to get a smaller place with just me and my husband. I wish Ramona would die already!
I left home at 19, because I could not stand Ramona, but I ended up back with her. Between this, my natural mother’s death, and my father’s family shunning me, my heart is in tatters.
I shouldn’t complain……