I was so naive when my mother married for her 3rd time. I’d been raised to think she had an endless supply of money, and she was fairly generous to those who would be nice to her. I loved her very much at the time, and appreciated her for her generosity. I didn’t take much from her, feeling strongly independent, capable and wanting to stand on my own. But I thought to myself how surprised and pleased my new step-siblings would be when they discovered how wealthy she really was.
I didn’t realize at the time that my step-sister saw me, and my siblings, only as an obstacle between her and the money.
The first awareness cracked through when I left my 2nd husband in a panic, for fear he would hurt my child with his drunken irresponsibility. My step-sister, who had shown very little interest in my life, was suddenly sitting beside me as soon as I arrived in the state. I was moved that she would be so concerned to come over and support me in my great despair.
Instead of expressing any concern, she began to explain how she had made it through her crises without any help whatsoever from her father. She shook her head dramatically from side to side, stressing the point that she never received any help. It’s funny, that, at the time, I didn’t think about the house she had been living in ever since her first divorce. A house her father gave her, free of charge, free of taxes, free of rent, that she lived in for 5 decades. That wasn’t considered financial help?
Instead, I sat there silently, while she lectured me. I stared down at the table, humiliated when I realized that she resented me for coming home and didn’t care the least little bit about me or my children. I’d always had a fond feeling for her, despite her lack of personality. I’d always felt sorry for her for growing up in such a small town and ending up without a single friend.
I did not say a word, despite that I knew that any help from ‘the family’ would be coming from my mother’s wealth, which my step-father had nothing to do with. She was staking her claim for my mother’s wealth from the moment she was aware of it, that was clear.
You would think that I might have grown wiser from that encounter, but I did not. Sixteen years later I went to the hospital in an ambulance, due to a brain aneurysm. When I got out of the hospital I was pleasantly surprised when Karen called me on the phone. I assumed she was concerned for my health, and that gave me hope for a real sibling relationship with her.
News must have gone around to the family that I had no health insurance, having worked as an independent house cleaner for the past 18 years. She did not ask me how I was, or wish me well in any form. She simply said she was good at paperwork and would help me fill out any forms for charities that could help with my medical expenses. I realized she was terrified that my health condition was going to cost ‘the family’ money, and that was her only concern. I never bothered to talk with her after that, and my condition never cost ‘the family’ one damn cent.
I have to say that I’m ashamed I ever held out hope for her, as any kind of real sister, when the first thing she said to me, after the loss of my little sister, that her death was the “best thing that could have happened for ‘the family’ “. My heart froze when she said that to me, and I knew she had no clue what real love was. She hadn’t known Marilyn at all, had no idea or right to determine her worth on this world. Deep down, I suppose, I’ve always resented her for sharing that selfish insensitive point of view.
She also treated my daughter and grandchildren like shit, for no reason they ever deserved.
I share these stories now, because it is clear to me that unearned wealth is a dangerous thing that can spoil the character of everyone around it. When I think of the many family betrayals and damages people have done to one another, I realize it always seems to be about money, and it’s usually about money that no one in the family has earned.
Oikos 