Joyce has passed away.
I’ve been told to stay away from the funeral “because of all the drama I caused at Sean’s funeral” and my “blog full of lies.”
I’m actually ok with this; I don’t think I can pretend to grieve. I’ve searched inside myself and there’s nothing there. No sadness, no rage, no regret, no hope for a chance to ‘fix’ things. I never wished for Joyce to die; now that she has, I feel nothing. Not even relief.
She never bothered to meet her great-granddaughter.
I hope to live another 50 years. I’m not going to live under anyone else’s weight.