When my mother was alive we would get together every other Sunday for mom's spaghetti dinner. When we were at mom's house all differences were put aside. No matter who was arguing with who or who wasn't talking who, it didn't happen there. It was like mom's house was a safe zone or home base. That all went away when my mom died, it seemed like my family fell apart.
After my one sister took off it was left up to me and my other sister to clean out my mom's place. I really didn't like my sister's husband at the time, but for my sister I tried. I got what I could get of my mother's stuff and my sister and her husband put the rest in storage. I offered 2 or 3 times to help pay for this storage unit and was told that they had it and we didn't need to. I remember my sister saying as we were closing the door on the storage unit that if we ever decided we didn't want something of mom's to offer it to one another first before we sold it. Next thing I know everything that my sister and her husband didn't want was sold, never offered to me.
I was told the reason it wasn't offered was because I never helped with the storage unit rent. I felt so betrayed, I know it was most likely her husband, but I remember thinking it was all her fault. I thought that even my own sister was just like everyone else I had met, out for the hustle to take advantage of anyone and everyone. So I pushed the people closest to me away, I didn't know how to let people love me. I didn't know how to love. I had this big hole in my life, something was missing and I thought pot filled that hole. For that couple of hours I was high I didn't have to worry about anything.