Grief Brings Out the Worst in People--and the Best

The emotional turmoil of life after Rox seems to have no end to its twists and turns. The latest chapter of the saga, which I've anticipated for a long time, is this: my stepkids, Alex and Owen, have begun to inquire about the fate of "our mom's half of the house proceeds." Of course, given that Rox and I were never divorced and thus remained married when she died, the house was transferred into my name per her will, and it would seem they have no legal claim. But I'm acutely aware of the potential emotional minefield that comes with this topic.

Alex started by bringing it up at one of Jackson's soccer games a few weeks ago, which upset me greatly. This came about a week after she informed me that she'd spent essentially all of the life insurance she collected upon Rox's death--a large amount that should have set her up for a decade, not been squandered in little more than a year. Naturally, I associated the two, assuming that since she had blown her gravy train, she wanted to find another one to replace it.

Anyway, in talking with Owen about this yesterday, he divulged to me that Alex feels that I'm "profiting from our mother's death," which is utterly ridiculous and intensely hurtful. To be fair, I'm not sure I wouldn't be in the same state as Alex if my mom had hung herself last year and I'd followed that up by frittering away the biggest financial gift I was likely to see in this lifetime.

There are so many ways to react to this scenario--on the one hand, I see her as acting like a spoiled, impetuous teenager throwing a tantrum because she's realized there's no one to take care of her any more. In which case, I should do my best to ignore her accusations, and wait for her to figure things out on her own. On the other, I also know she's a profoundly wounded person. Rox's mental illness made Alex's life pretty hellish--her nervous breakdown in the early 90s, just before I met her, forced Alex into a pseudo parenting role way too early in life, and then they fought horribly through her teen years. They always had a special bond, but also a special repulsion. In the 19 months since Rox died, Alex has had no therapy (and neither has Owen), and has not only put her mother on a posthumous pedestal, but also has begun to take on even more of her personality. So maybe this episode is actually all of her pent-up angst about her mom, and guilt about her negative feelings that she's not expressing, coming out in the worst of fashions.

The problem is, none of this armchair analysis is worth a damn, because she's nearly 28 years old, her life is none of my business, and she never listens to anything I have to say anyway (in fact, she treats me a hell of a lot like her mom did, and naturally, I probably treat her a hell of a lot like I treated her mom--it's a pretty sick dynamic, when you get right down to it). But there is so much potential for further damage to our family that the whole thing has to be taken seriously.

Luckily for me, a family friend who has done what he can to advise her and Owen on what to do with their money has agreed to talk with them and help them to see the lay of the land. Then maybe she and I can talk. Really, as far as I can see, there are only two paths here: She can wake up, realize that she's being totally out of line, and express some contriteness for letting such ugly feelings out at our expense; or, she can continue to pursue the topic, and even if it can never go anywhere, she can continue to resent me for "profiting from her mother's death."

Of course, my practical answer to that hurtful implication is, didn't we all profit from her mom's death? What was the life insurance she's been blowing? The bottom line is, none of us ever would have wanted to profit in any way from this, but when someone dies, something has to happen with what's left behind. And given that we were married, and I'm left to raise our son, there's no way I can let an irresponsible, disrespectful 27-year-old make off with one penny of my financial foundation. (And coming just around the corner is her wedding, which she'll no doubt ask me to help with too--again, no chance. She needs to learn a lesson from her unhealthy impulsiveness.)

There is a coda to this little part of the story, though. Last night, I was ranting about the whole situation to my cousin Ernie, when I caught myself in the midst of railing irrationally about what a selfish bitch Rox was and how she'd ruined my life, and realized that Jackson was in the next room playing video games. I don't know if he really heard anything I was saying, but I went in and sat down with him to check in. He said he didn't really pick up on what I said, but I chose to let him know that even if Daddy says some terrible things about Mommy from time to time, it doesn't mean she wasn't an amazing person and that he didn't love her very much. Quite the opposite--she had this profound affect on him, eliciting such emotional reactions because of how much he (I) cared for her. Then I reminded him that what Mommy did was wrong, and stupid, and selfish, and he nodded his head and said, "It WAS selfish."

When I asked him why he felt Rox had been selfish, he said something I'll never forget, and that I'll forever be so proud of: "Because what she did ripped a piece out of all of our lives, and she did it only to help herself, not anyone else."

Maybe we are on the road to recovery after all.