<----Carmella Road; that's the view of my childhood home as seen from Homecamp Road; house on the left behind all of the trees and to the right you can see the pole my dad had put up with a mailbox that said "Air Mail"....and he WAS the first that anyone had known to do this. It was his sense of humor. This picture made me cry.
Ok, so I know that it's been a LONG time since I've been back to blog but life's been really busy and, by the time I remember that I haven't been back, it's 2 am. *smiles*
So...I've been focusing on all that is good in my life and trying to leave the pain, disappointment and anger of my life as a child behind me and was doing wonderfully until last week.
I received a message last week to advise me that the home I grew up in, along with the property that surrounds it, is going to be sold by the County Tax Assessor for back taxes; which I expected to happen eventually, anyway, because my parents had chosen the LEAST responsible of their children to sign over ALL of their property to, just prior to my father's passing. And just for a little background here; they adopted three of us, but had 2 natural children; Terry and Sherry, and raised another child that they had legal custody of but never adopted. Terry was killed in a car accident in 1963; but left behind a pregnant girlfriend *which will be important later*...and Sherry then had 3 children that were unwanted, thus, adopted by her parents *my grandparents* - to whom I referred to as 'Mom' and 'Dad.' Are ya with me so far?? *giggling*
Sherry gave birth to a son in 1964....'Mom' and 'Dad' desperately wanted this child, of whom Sherry didn't want, so they struck a deal; a new car for the baby, and *voila!* they had their son back! *no, really, they even named him Terrance Christopher and my mom looked at him over his crib when they brought him home and said, in front of everyone "Look! God took him away from us and now he's given him back."
Ok, at this point, SOMEONE should have stopped them from adopting any more children.....
A few months later, Sherry's pregnant with me. At birth, she refused to even HOLD me..said to the nurse *again, in front of everyone present* "Oh my God, that kid's ugly! It looks like a bug! Get it away from me!" :o( Sad but true.
Fast forward another couple of years....they get a phone call from Terry's *the one that was killed in the car accident* former girlfriend, and baby mama, that her new husband doesn't like Terry's son and that if my parents didn't want him they'd put him up for adoption elsewhere....so they took him. Now, one would think, at this point, that IF Ronnie was Terry's son, and Terry was the proverbial apple of my mother's eye, that Ronnie would have been 'The Chosen' one, right? W R O N G. My brother, Ronnie, was treated so horribly by these people that it made my treatment look good. *My dad would later tell me that they blamed Ronnie for Terry's death.....because Terry died chasing Ronnie's mother, who had met another man, was on her way to end the pregnancy. She changed her mind, out of guilt, after Terry's death. So....Terry gave his life to protect my brother's...hence, the 'blame' thing. Makes NO sense to me..but I'm normal.* Anyway....they had birthday parties for Chris, never for us. What's worse? The fact that Ronnie and I were made to stay upstairs during Chris's birthday parties. Yeah, we had it like that.
Fast forward....and my other blog posts talk about this in more detail...but I had my son taken away from me at birth and was told that he was a 'bastard' and that I was a 'whore'....and then the day I return from the hospital WITHOUT my son, Chris and his girlfriend announced that they were pregnant, gonna have the baby and live at our house...my parents were THRILLED!! They were gonna have a grandchild!! *are you seeing the 'big picture' yet?*
Again, zoom forward....we get the call in 1999 that my dad has cancer and it's not looking good that he can survive it so they ask for all of us to make one more trip up at the same time so we're all together one last time *which was easy for Chris because he lived in a trailer right next to my parent's home; still being supported by them at 34 years old*.....my dad promises all of us that we'd each receive an acre of property and share ownership of the family home with a clause that if whomever was in control and living there *Chris* wasn't caring for the property then the rest of us could throw them off and properly care for it so we'd 'always have someplace to go' if our lives ever caused us to return....*awwwwww, you say...isn't that sweet* Sure, it's a great gesture; however, it was a lie. Within weeks of our all *except Sherry, she stayed to take care of my dad because my mother never DID...she only cared about Chris and we all knew it, especially our dad* returning back to our lives, I received a phone call from Sherry, whom was heartbroken. It seems that our mother had pressured our father into signing ALL of the property and ALL other possessions *boat, cars...bank accounts* to Chris. Her reasoning? Because he was the 'only one' that stayed. OF COURSE HE WAS! He never had to work, pay a bill, buy groceries, pay car insurance or car payments!!! Oh, and beside the fact that they had told the rest of us to 'get the hell outta here' as soon as we were 18. So my dad did what she wanted and Ronnie, Sherry and I were left nothing. Zilch. Zero. Oh, except for the money that our dad had invested for each of us when we were young so that we could retire early, right? W R O N G again. My father had cashed them ALL in and combined the money into one large account so that my mother wouldn't have to ever worry about money, 'even if she lives another 50 years'........ahhhhhhh, if only that had been true. *FYI, within 11 months of my father's death, Chris had gone through more than $220,000...taking fishing trips to Canada, hunting trips to Newfoundland and Wyoming, buying quad runners and vehicles....how? *you ask* Why, because my mother added HIS name to HER account. He spent at will, until eventually there was none left to care for her and Medicaid had to. *Karma??* So, I call my parent's attorney, Paul Cherry, and ask for a copy of my dad's will......he refuses to give me a copy. Says that I'd need my mother's permission, which she granted over the phone, yet he refused. No estate had been filed, he said, because everything had been given away before my dad died, or had automatically reverted to our mother. No probate necessary. Secrets kept.
Back to the original reason for my return to unhealthy feelings...lol....so the 7 acres that house the family home, barn, garages and, of course, Chris's lovely abode, are going to be sold at auction....it's sad and funny at the same time. Sad because my dad and Terry built that house, literally. On nights and weekends they would build...it took them four years to complete it. That house meant the WORLD to our father. Now, it stands in serious disrepair; ceilings falling in, basement full of water, rotted roof and shingles.....all because they chose their 'beloved' Chris to hand it to. I'm upset because it was not ever my father's intention that anyone other than family own that house; but it's funny because we ALL told him that it would happen. Will I help Chris save it? Absolutely NOT. I would never do ANYTHING that would enable him to live an easier life. He never made it easy for Ronnie and I....and, near the end of my father's life, would tell my father 'just die already, old man, no one wants you around anyway.' He is the EPITOME of evil. I would pee on him if he was on fire.
So, upset about the loss of the family's homestead due to an irresponsible, spoiled demon, we then find out that there's one acre of property that's adjacent to the homestead that was never deeded to Satan...er, Chris. My brother Ronnie and I were thrilled! Maybe we could salvage that one part of our dad and share in it's possession??? But, why didn't anyone know about this? Why weren't Ronnie and I notified that my mother had ONE possession??? Why? Because Satan...er, Chris was the administrator of our mother's will and never filed for probate in Clearfield County!!! So, again, I call Paul Cherry...who's now a judge....he finds my mother's will but not my father's *shocked? I wasn't...secrets* and says that, although the will was updated in 2003, any property that my mother owned at her death was to be shared by me, Satan, Ronnie and Sherry....which is really odd because Sherry died in 2001, only 5 months after our dad died. So I use this information to contact the county....can we fight the tax sale and save this piece of property???? Well, 2 attorneys and multiple county departments later, yes, we can....but it'll cost almost as much as the property's worth. Cost not being the primary issue here; it seems that, even though Satan lied to Ronnie and I, never filed the estate nor paid any inheritance tax after our mother's death in 2007, there are no penalties in PA. None. He can't be arrested, fined...nothing. How can he violate a state law and not be a criminal? AND if I were successful in saving the property from tax sale then HE would be entitled to his share of the ownership!
So....after days and days and days stressing over what the 'right' thing to do is, I've finally decided to turn my back and walk away. After all I've had to deal with growing up in that house I've decided that I wouldn't even want to visit, let alone own the property that's connected to it.
You know, there are a lot of people that try and make me feel guilty for shutting that part of my life out and never looking back; but I have to admit that if I hadn't then you probably wouldn't be reading this blog right now because I would have ended my misery, rather than healing the wounds and starting a new life. Being adopted is not always in the forefront of my mind. Being adopted by people that didn't really WANT me is. I often wonder how differently my life may have turned out had I had loving, supportive parents, like so many adopted children have had. Then, I'll stop the what-if's and remember...I am who I am today because of all of that's happened and, you know what??? I like me. Even if 'they' didn't. I bought my own home, pay my own bills and have two amazing daughters and a son out there, somewhere......I think I've done pretty well for myself without their help.... especially compared to the life of the 'one' that they handed everything to.....yeah, I'm ok. Thanks mom and dad.