My mother passed. It was a stressed and estranged situation. I suppose what is bothering me more than anything is my lack of ability to grieve. I understand that the majority of humanity had parents that sought to protect and raise them, I was not a member of the majority. It has been several weeks, and I am not a vocal, or emotional person. I like the anonymity of the interwebs for that fact. Here I am who I am. Not who I pretend to be. In life I am a highly successful and put together cat. My wife has noticed a crack in the last few weeks. But she hasn't pressed the issue. I am good at what I do. I don't have many flaws. But I did not have the white picket fence my current self would lead others to believe. Even in my honesty. My mother died. I am the oldest of six. I was the only one there. I stepped up after failures and paid for and arranged everything. I have achieved my childhood dream of having my mother's body in my trunk. I don't know what do to after that fact beyond not doing something I will regret. I have written off the 'family farm.' I have written off my siblings. I would die before my heathen experienced the life that molded me. And that is possibly what grieves me the most. I am who I am for what I have experienced. I once wrote to Dear Prudence for advice, and she thankfully confirmed that what I have accomplished was me, no guilt. But I can't lie, I still feel guilt. I have a homeless sibling, two in jail/prison, a victim of the welfare system and a full blown alcoholic failure. Is it guilt I feel at being successful and accomplished? Think of the worst of the worst, and that was my life. My first suggestion for my mother's occupation on her death certificate was 'drug addict whore.' We settled on CNA after the realization that 'Homemaker' was just as much of an insult. After all, she did work as a CNA for a week or two. It is times like this that I wish that I could forget it all. I came up through the foster care system. Why do I care about the other life? Why does every bad decision in my life haunt me? Why does every good decision in my life bring into sharp contrast the bad decisions? I am not seeking sympathy. I am not seeking support. I don't know what I am seeking. I do know that I have to get this off my chest. I spent the weekend with my mother's last boyfriend, he would have been her fourth husband, but they never married. As such they lasted twenty years. He is a hell of man. My daughter calls him Papaw. He is proud my me. And I love him as my father. He knows this now. Of that I am proud. Of my heathen I am proud. Of my wife, I am proud. Of my house, cars, dogs, guns, and guitars I am proud. My name is Bob, I am from Tellico Plains Tennessee. I left there more than twenty years ago. Shelbyville Kentucky is where me and my family make home. i am part of the Shell/Jones clan. I will cut your throat and smile.