A time that puts everything into perspective

As those of you that are close to me know, I recently reconnected with my Mother.  She had cancer as well as a multitude of other health problems.  She lost her battle for life on September 16th, 2011.  I last spoke to her on my birthday and she said she was going on Oxy for the pain but would call me in a few days.  Little did I know at the time that that would be the last time I ever heard her voice again.  Within 2 days she was in a coma like state and within the 6 days after that, she was gone.  I got the call at a little after 3 a.m. my time, from a man I loathe...her husband.  Most of my life I was never close to my Mother.  My Great Grandmother, for the most part, raised me.  I always felt, and rightfully so, that my Mother chose her husband over me.  He always came first. He treated her badly, like really badly, made her feel worthless and stupid and tried to control her in every way, right down to how she spent her money, the money she busted her ass for in a hot, dangerous steel mill. I tried over the years to connect with her, but it always ended badly.  We would argue and then not speak.  I always felt at a loss and unloved, to say the least.  Her family never had anything to do with me, so I truly felt like an outsider.  A few weeks before she died, she had asked me to write her a letter, telling her all my pain due to her, all my complaints etc.  I told her I didn't want to, that there was no point in upsetting her.  She assured me she would get over it, that she really wanted to know.  I started an outline of the letter, but never finished it.  It just seemed too cruel to upset a dying woman.  Back in the mid 90's she took in two brothers and raised them as her own.  This hurt me deeply.  However, this past summer I got to spend a lot of time with Dylan, the younger one, and he is such a fantastic kid.  She truly gave him the best of herself.  I couldn't resent him for it, as it wasn't his choice and again, I was and am so amazed at him and how great he is.  He came to stay with me a few months ago and was so good to my son.  I had originally said I would not go to her funeral because I didn't want any part of the drama, however, Dylan needed support and in the end I just felt it the right thing to do.  I had so many mixed feelings about her death, I decided to drive instead of fly so I had time to think.  I finally got to my big brother's house in the wee hours of the morning.  Always lovely to see a friendly face.  The next day we stayed in our pj's literally all day before I headed to Indiana and our hotel.  My poor son was scared at his Uncle's, even though our Jeff is a Federal Cop, has a red nosed Pit bull and numerous guns for protection, being in the 'Hood wasn't for my baby.  I called Dylan when I got to the hotel and he said he would come over.  The next day we went to the wake together.  He surprised me as he was dressed in a lovely suit and kept asking if it was ok.  As soon as we entered and saw Mom we fell to pieces.  Again I felt like an outsider because my Mother's family came up to hug and comfort Dylan and barely said a word to me.  I felt like screaming "I am her daughter". but of course I didn't.  Kindness came in the strangest of places.  Close friends of mine begged off and didn't show, you know, the ones I expected to come.  However, my "aunt" Rhea, who  I truly never expected to see, came, and she hugged me.  Stacey, who I haven't seen in 15 years came and she hugged me.  Strangest and nicest of all, Dylan's grandparents on his dad's side came, as well as his Uncle and cousin.  They were all so gracious and all hugged me and said I was family with them now.  For someone such as myself who really feels pretty alone in the world, that meant everything to me.  My Step dad was telling all his lies to everyone that would listen, even though everyone knew he was lying.  He made up pictures to give everyone of him and my Mother together.  No one wanted it, but we all took them.  I cut him out, as did I am sure, most everyone else.  Some of my Mother's work friends made sure they spoke to me.  Right before we left a heated discussion came up about pallbearers.  Her husband wanted his two son's and my Mother didn't like them.  Besides, we had more than enough "family" to handle it.  The next morning when we arrived at the funeral home I decided to give my contact details to my Mother's family.  A argument broke out again over the pallbearers and the funeral director told me since my Mother's husband paid, he had all the say.  Lovely, always about the money.  I told him if that was the case, I would pay but he walked away.  In the end, one of my step brothers was a pallbearer.  Sorry mom, I truly tried.  At the grave site another argument erupted.  I had walked away but could hear the screams back by my car.  Apparently her husband was demanding just HIS flowers be left on her grave and Marcus wanted his there as well.  Rightfully so, she adored Marcus.  Luckily Marcus's Father in Law stepped in before it came to blows.  After all that her husband thought everyone would want to join him for the gathering and meal.  I begged off, said I felt ill, but everyone actually got together at a local restaurant.  I was put out because I didn't see Stacey anywhere and then my Uncle Bill told me...she didn't come because when she went up to the casket to pay respect to my Mother that my step dad was trying to pick her up!!!  Yes, he was so devastated over my Mother's death....Asshole!  After the dinner, my Mom's sister and brother both hugged me and said to keep in touch.  Dylan and I went back to my Mother's grave and then by her house.  My step dad acted ok but seemed in a huge hurry to be rid of her things.  I really didn't feel right touching stuff so soon but did take some photos that she had and a few bits and bobs.  I asked him to please not get rid of her things, that I would be back.  As I told Dylan, most I probably won't want for myself but would like someone in the family or circle of friends to have.  Just so he doesn't throw the stuff away or have some tramp he picks up touching my mother's things.  I am more than likely going to have to hire a lawyer to help Dylan get what Mother left him.  Her husband seems to think he is in total control of all and that is so wrong, and definitely not what my Mother wanted.  I just want her final wishes carried out, no matter what they are.  I made the horrible cross country drive and am now home.  I have already heard from both my Mother's siblings.  I asked Dylan to move here with me, however, I also told him if he didn't want to due to not wanting to leave family and friends that I would move back.  The thought of going back is not an appealing prospect, as I love it here so very much.  However, in all of this I have learned, having family is important.  Being close to people is what matters.  I will never fully understand my Mother, how she thought, why she stayed in an abusive marriage etc, but I do wish I had known her better.  I wish I hadn't gotten so caught up in my own pain to not see and try to understand hers.  I hope to continue to get to know her siblings and all those dear to her.  She believed in a god and an afterlife, I do not....however, and maybe it is just the grief, but I saw a rainbow where there was no rain in Illinois crossing into Iowa and then a shooting star in Wyoming on the drive home.  The shooting star made me think of the song "Drops of Jupiter" by Train.  Pat wrote that for his mother, and it surely fits.  For a second there I did think it was mom trying to tell me something. I have learned I need to have more grace and forgiveness in my heart and not stay so closed off.  It truly is better to love and lost than to never loved at all....