The Remodel
I will remodel my soul as many times as I am called to. How I have railed against it with every fiber of my being! And yet, the change comes…
Thanks for reading <3
A Song For The Road:
A few years ago, my aunt remodeled our “family home”. She bought the house the year I was born and is still the sole owner. She took care of my grandma and my uncle (her brother) for years in this house. Eventually, construction of the new road got to be too much, too loud so they moved across town (2007/2008). My family moved in Thanksgiving day, 2008. I was 10 years old. We proceeded to spend the last 17 years filling the house with people, love, and laughter. A few memorable fights, and plenty of sibling rivalry. (Love you, Zach!)
About two years ago, my siblings and I were all hitting a rough patch at the same time, and Mom always said we could come home anytime, so we did. Turns out Auntie Lynn was also hitting a rough patch, but we didn’t know it, didn’t understand the extent of it.
My aunt figured she would try to help by making the house bigger with the money from the sale of her house in Brunswick. We all underestimated the emotional value of the same-old-walls and the emotional tax of construction. I wonder how much the remodeling of our house contributed to the remodeling of our family.
I took great care to fill as much of the space as I could. It felt good to not be small and quiet after living in dorms, apartments with roommates, and a rather harmful college relationship. Coming home was not something I wanted, but I knew it was what I needed at the time. I worried that I would be stuck there, trapped in family obligation, and in a way I was, much of my own doing. I am helpful to a fault. I just wanted to feel at home again.
Her house sold quickly, within days of being listed. It all happened so fast. She and her son had moved in before I even made it back home from Buffalo. Plans to renovate were already in the works. I asked my mom, “How can she afford this? Especially right now?” My mom had the same questions but Lynn said, "It’s my money and my house, I can do what I want.” She thought she was saving everyone. You could see it in her eyes, in the micro-expressions on her face. She had an idealistic plan.
I was concerned that the house would become too big. It was already huge, just not quite enough bedrooms for the people at the time. But I kept saying, “I’m not trying to stay forever.” “Zach and I shouldn’t be planning to live here forever. We should be focusing on how to move out and live our own lives.” But all I got in response was, “Don’t worry, you aren’t stuck. We’ll find someone to rent the room when you leave.” Forget that there was no extra money to save while paying her rent.
Zach and Taylor were kicked out first. It took them 3 months to find somewhere else to go. A friend’s trailer, that was a a camera short of being an episode of Hoarders. They’ve only just finished cleaning out the second bedroom (over a year in!) and they still don’t have a full sized fridge because the one that was there had fruit flies in the FREEZER. Needless to say, it was not ideal, but it got them out. The whole time Lynn complainedd to everyone that they were still there. And we never found someone to rent the room.
Construction took over a year and she ran out of money. I kept saying that she should focus on her space. Forget about the upstairs, finish your kitchen, get your jet tub. She worked so hard her whole life, she deserved something nice for herself, but everytime I brought it up she’d get mad at me. “I can do what I want with MY house and MY money.” But it wasn’t her money. She planned the finances on having $800 per bedroom a month. She was not clear with us on this. She put the heating system on her card because the bank only gave her half of what they had “approved” and winter was coming. With her asthma, we couldn’t run the wood stove. We also couldn’t light a candle or stick of incense. If you know me…. I love a candle or fire of any kind. I cheated a little here and there, but only soy wax/essentail oil candles, and only for like 5 min at a time. It was still a problem.
As the time went on, Lynn got more and more adament about the rent. She never produced a lease agreement, despite my asking for one. I paid her $800-$1000 until I quit the job that was making me sick. I broke up with the man who was promoting unhealthy habits in my life. I worked so hard to regulate myself, to make healthy decisions for my life. Building a life you don’t want to leave is no easy task. She didn’t see any of it. She saw her emptying bank account and took it out on all of us. I asked several times if we could sit down and go over the bills together. I still have no idea how much it cost to run that house - the taxes, the eqity line, the utilities. She told me “You have no right to know MY finances.” But she had a right to claim constantly that “We are going to lose the house.” So much for “Family Home” it was “Her House.”
Every time I asked for adivce, I was left feeling like I was the problem. I started a business and she gave me advice about it for months. Every $50 bill I handed her, she looked surprised. I was back up to $200/month in rent within 3 months of starting my business. If all had gone to plan, I was only 2 months away from giving her the full $800. I has clients reaching out left and right. I talked to her about this constantly, talked to everyone about it. The last day we spoke she told me she never supported my business, she wanted me to “get a job” and give her money. How was I supposed to feel free?
The night she kicked us out was complete chaos. My mom and I had taken the kid to go swimming for the day. She had 8-10 hours of peace and quiet. Within 30 minutes of gettting home and starting bed-time routines, the kid was running around the house, throwing things off the counter, etc. My mom tried to step in, but it only escalated the situation. I came out of my room when I heard the commotion. Lynn was at the top of the staris screaming at my mom, “It’s time for you to go. I wasn’t yelling, You’re the one who is always yelling. It’s time for you to move out!” Meanwhile, my mom paid for a fair amount of house related things, as well as household tasks that Lynn couldn’t physically do such as trash duty and mowing the lawn.
I stepped in, “Let’s take some deep breaths and not make any rash decisions while we are angry.” I took the kid to my room to calm down and hear his side of the story. I heard Nancy and Lynn yelling at each other from the top and bottom of the stairs. I have no idea what they were saying. He told me that Lynn had hurt him and that was why he got out of bed. He’s a fibber, so I asked him to be specific. How did she hurt you? He showed me a mark on his arm where she had dug her elbow into him, on purpose from the way he was motioning.
She later said that she was stuck in the bed, that it was an accident, but she didn’t say that to me when I asked her. She lost her shit when I asked what happened. My aunt has a history of losing her cool. She’s slapped 3 members of our family, adults and a kid. So I lost my marbles. I was pissed. We had a great day with this kid. Not a single issue or behavior problem, and within 30 minutes of being alone with her, he was off the rails? He said he was tired and wanted to go to bed. I said, let me make sure Lynn is ready for you again.
I went upstairs to check in. Had she regulated? Was she done screaming? I asked her point blank, “He wants to go to bed. Is he going to be safe if I let him come back in here?” The look she gave me was hateful. She actually raised her hand like she was going to hit me. I looked at her like, “Really?”, I said, “Go ahead and hit me Lynn. You’ve got a history of slapping family members and I will 100% call the cops right now.” She proceeded the scream at me, backing me down the hallway to the kitchen. She pushed me physically with both hands on my shoulders. I said, “Absolutely not. He’s not being left alone with you tonight. You need to get regulated.” Her response, “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT HE DID TO ME FIRST!”
”I don’t give a single fuck what he did. He’s a child. You are his adult. There is NOTHING he can ‘do to you’ that warants this reaction. If you can’t be calm, that’s why Nancy and I are here. Call for support. Go cool off.”
This is when she told me that “I could go too.” And when I asked her how that was supposed to work, with Nancy and I being HUGE support for her child, for the general running of the household, she said, “I don’t care. I’ll figure it out. I want you GONE.” Then she stormed out the front door. We didn’t exchange a single word for 6 days. She wouldn’t even look at me if I entered the room. I didn’t think she meant it, honestly. I thought it was heat of the moment, words of anger, but boy was I wrong.
Our first conversation in a week became a whole new fight. “Why are you still here? I told you to get out.” As if I had anywhere else to go. That’s why I moved home in the first place, because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I screamed at her until I collapsed. I have never been so upset, hurt, angry, abandoned, betrayed. I don’t think I’ll ever feel like that again either. I know better now. I will never rely on that much help or “kindness” from someone again because they can just take it away whenever they want. Even family, especially family.
I said things that were awful and I wish I regretted them but I don’t. I told her she was destoying our family and running people out of the house. It was empty becasue nobody wanted to be around her. Several of my friends expressed uneasiness in her presence. A feeling of being watched by her that made them not want to be around anymore. I told her that we all knew she was sick but she wouldn’t let anyone in to help her.
At every turn I questioned her motives, her financial stability, her emotional safety. And I was right to. I saw right thru her facade. She is/was suicidal. The day she finally admitted it was another fight. I told her I couldn’t be her sounding board for issues with my mom. She took it as I didn’t care about her and screamed “I’ll just kill myself then.” I told her I knew already and I was thankful she finally acknowledged it outloud to us. She stormed down the hall to her room, slamming the door behind her, never to bring it up again.
I left a note on the BHP’s car. I said I was highly concerned about both her safety and the kid’s safety if my mom and I were both leaving. In the end, the kid chose to go to a group home, thank God. There he has rules, boundaries, routine, all the things Lynn couldn’t give him.
She sent us all an email a few weeks ago, letting us know that the hosue was going on the market come spring. She wanted help cleaning out the house. Cleaning that she yelled at me for doing because she “couldn’t find anything.” when all I did was sort bullshit in the garage. And frankly, you kicked us all out, why the fuck should we help you now? Figure it out lady. I’ll admit, I responded with very little care. I sent her an email that just said, “I just want my life back. I fucking hate you.” which was a mistake, but I actually don’t care. It felt so good to be honest about how I felt. I hate that my middle name is hers. One day I’ll change it and erase her from my life completely. She’s not my mess to deal with.
I’m having a hard time today. I know that she is sick (alcoholism and addiction don’t just go away when you stop drinking.) but I am hurt that she pretended perfection for so long. I’m hurt that she made it all our fault, rather than taking responsibility for her own life and her own choices. She actually tried to tell me that I never spoke against the build even though I was a total bitch about it for months trying to stop it. Everyone else remembers it.
In the end, I figured it out. I have such a robust community, all over the world, and my darling friend took me in. She finally got me to LA. We have an adorable, freshly renovated, 2 bedroom. Her parents are so generous and have helped us out as we settle into a new life. My wonderful boyfriend will be here in a few weeks with his cat. Things are looking up and self-reliance is on the horizon.
I am hopeful that thru acceptance, this massive change won’t be so hard, maybe it won’t hurt so bad. It’s like I’ve just learned a secret, except I think a lot of people in my world understand this. Thank you for being so patient with me as I’ve cried, screamed, and ranted these last years and months and days and hours….. I know I wasn’t perfect. I didn’t handle everything in the best way, I escalated things out of my own ego and anger when I could’ve chosen peace. I’m working on my own predisposition to just start screaming and catastrophizing.
My adult life has been quite heavy thus far, but there is so much good on the horizon. I will continue to be an instrument of healing and love in the world, to the best of my ability on any given day. I will refrain from hateful emails from here on out. I made my point.
I’ve spent a lot of time “shoulding” myself, twisting into shapes that I thought I had to be, leading myself down paths of anger and resentment and unhealthy habits. Every day I committ to doing better. It’s fucking hard, but I’m crushing it if I do say so myself. Goodbye People Pleasing!
I have been hesitant to share this because my mom asked me not to. She doesn’t want to see her sister further alienated when she is in a place of needed support, help, community. But this is my story too. I can’t just pretend that this didn’t happen. I can’t keep silent to protect someone who hurt me so deeply. If you made it this far, thanks for reading. Before you go villanizing my aunt, remember that addiction is nasty business. She has a good heart, but she never dealt with her traumas. If we don’t face our darkness, one day it will turn around and face us. I don’t want to be anything like her, so I’m trying to look at mine now, not when I’m 60+.
My Mom, Aunts, and Uncles - circa 1963
