I really want to help my loved ones. Yeah, maybe I’m too kind, but I can’t get past someone else’s grief. Now getting to the point.
My sister is only related to me by her mother. Her father went into hiding as soon as he found out my mom was pregnant. She and my dad got together when Arina was 12 years old. When she found out that Mom was expecting another man’s baby, my sister got hysterical and threatened to leave home.
Daddy tried to make things right with her, but she wouldn’t let it go. Since then Arina took it out on me, she hurt me and made fun of me. Over the years she calmed down a little, and we started talking normally. There was no sisterly love, just human contact.
When I turned 7, I had my first nephew. He lived with us, because my sister divorced her husband almost immediately after my son was born. Mom and Dad fought a lot because of him, because Mom made me play with him, look after him, take him for walks. And Dad kept telling me that I should have a carefree childhood. Arina had given birth, so she had to take care of the child. My nephew grew, as did his appetites. Mom let him. A loving grandmother bought all sorts of sweets and toys, as long as her grandson smiled.
Mom was not interested in my life, not at all. When my father got tired of watching this, he stopped giving her money. She never worked and was completely financially dependent on him. My sister was angry at my mother for not giving her money, so she went and begged her husband for a handout for Arina.
At first I was angry with Dad. For some reason it seemed to me that he was to blame. But I knew he wasn’t greedy, he bought me everything to make up for my mother’s spiteful attitude.
When the boy was 6 years old my sister got married for the second time. That’s when my mother remembered me, but I didn’t need her attention and care anymore. I learned to be independent, and our interests were too different. I liked drama theater and historical movies, and my mother liked tearful soap operas and shopping.
After a while my father bought an apartment so I could live alone after my 18th birthday. But when my sister broke up with her boyfriend again, my mother insisted that Arina move in. The quarrels between my father and mother became more frequent. I did not get into details, because I studied in another city and came home only on vacation.
One day I found out that my mother regularly took huge sums of money from my father and gave them to my sister. That was my father’s boiling point – he put her on a dry ration. They made up, of course, but Arina continued to mangle everything and incite my mother.
Although her father did not give her mother any money, he covered absolutely all her expenses. Any whim was fulfilled, only her parent did not hold the money in her hands. Dad did not forbid to help his sister and grandson, but the problem was that mom saw no limits.
The boy never treated Daddy like a grandfather. He called him uncle and showed no basic respect. Naturally, his father’s attitude toward his grandson was also appropriate.
A few years later my mother had a stroke. No matter what we did, she remained bedridden. To tell the truth, mother’s illness brought father very close to Arina, as we all took turns taking care of her. All the conflicts came to naught.
Recently my mother died. Before she died she called her grandson to her, wanted to say goodbye, but he never came. That moment stuck in my father’s memory – he could not forgive. He said that he would help, but there could be no family ties.
After a while we found out that mother left all her property to her grandson. And the house, and the apartment, and the cottage. But she didn’t own anything – it was all my father’s property. My sister tried to sue him, but the court did not approve her claim. After the trial, he got even angrier at her, because she didn’t want to share peacefully, so she was left with nothing.
I tried to reconcile them, but it didn’t work out. Now I help my sister financially, because my father does not give even a penny. He said he has only one daughter, which is me, and he doesn’t even want to hear about other relatives.
I understand him, of course, but I feel sorry for Arina and my nephew. Yes, I’m stupid, because she stomped on my life, but I can’t stand by. How do I get them to communicate with each other? How do I get over this wall?
