It's been two weeks now since my mother called. Before that phone call our last call was before Christmas last year. She had been inconsistent, calling four weeks before Christmas, repeating that she would visit us for Christmas and celebrate with us and etc. Two weeks passed, I called (why did I do that? I'm an idiot) her back and suddenly she wasn't able to make it and she had to work and it was too much. After Christmas, the Coward told me that it had long been planned for her to spend Christmas with him. She had been lying and blabbering subterfuge all along. As usual. But our last deal back then was that she was going to visit us around April the next year (this year). She never came and she never called and the suffocating connection seemed dead again. I knew from experience that she had somehow gone off the deep end once more, and this time I finally decided to let it be.

And then she called two weeks ago.

Turns out that my mother had breast cancer this year. Between the repeated blaming me for not caring about her and telling me how horrifying everything had been and how nobody had been there for her, I managed to sort out a couple of details. She detected something was wrong somewhere around January-February. She went to the doctor. They examined her and over the next couple of months, they gave her radiation, chemo and finally surgery. The tumor had by then become minuscule and there was no spreading. She had lost all bodily hair and worn a wig and at some point, according to her, been so deadly ill with a viral infection that it was a miracle she survived, but the Liar told me that she had gone to the hospital and everything turned out fine.

Both the Liar and the Coward admitted that they had been clearly instructed not to tell me anything. The Liar said he had continuously taken care of her, and begged her to tell me. He also said that if she hadn't told me at this point he would have. He went on with several lines of discussion that I didn't listen to because he didn't get the nickname the Liar for no reason after all.

The Coward admitted he had been in the wrong about not telling me and felt very bad and sorry for himself. He promised it would never happen again and according to him, she had not been all that ill, prognosis had been good, etc.

I was civil to my mother. I have taught myself to be civil to people, and nobody ever taught me anything. She hurled abuse and accusations, and I listened to her and told her to take care of herself. As she got higher up her angry mountain, I finally told her to come off it or stuff it, her choice. She backed down. I was told in quite plain words to expect to be punished for my insolence. I did not care. I still don't care. And I refuse to play this game. She can be an asshole. I will be nice.

I have been badly ill for more than half of my life. I have been everywhere that my mother just went this year, and more. I know about chronic pain and side-effects that never let go. I have a damaged body in many ways, and that can never heal. All those years my mother always cried and complained about every little pain she somehow had or imagined, but when she finally got a little bit of my deal, she became deadly silent. She refused to tell me and she put a deadlock on anyone who could have.


She knew, that if I had been told, I would have come and cared for her.

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