Broken Hearted-fierce Story Of Divorce
When I was seven years old, my Mom informed me that she was gay and she was getting married to the woman who had been living with us for a year. I was the ring bearer, and I couldn't be happier to have a second mom. I realized my second mom was an alcoholic when I was twelve years old. I didn't know the extent of it until I was fifteen, when my second mom started multiple fights late at night when she had been drinking too much. She wanted me to come with her one time after a fight, but I knew she was drunk and refused to get in the car with her because I was scared of what might happen. I didn't want her to go driving drunk either and I begged her to stay. She left anyways and took a picture of me with her. Two years later, when I was seventeen years of age, my mom informed me that her relationship with my second mom was dwindling and that she was trying to get her into alcoholics anonymous. She was too stubborn to even say a word to my Mom after that. Six months later, my Mom told me she was getting a divorce, and that I had a choice to go with either my Mom or second mom since she was legally my guardian. I chose my Mom. Not even 1 month later, my Mom told me she was moving in her new girlfriend and her daughter. I am an only child and the thought of a little sister made me mad at first because I missed my second mom. After a few babysitting sessions, I realized she was a complete brat to my Mom and her mom, but really cool with me and I could have her keep any secret I wanted her to keep. I taught her to steal, lie, and become the girl she is today because I hated my Mom for divorcing my second mom and wanted her to hate my new little sister so much that she would just kick them out. That never happened. Three years later, I find out my second mom is in the hospital while I'm at work. I leave work after my shift and go to visit her. I have my very last conversation with her that night. It was slightly awkward since I hadn't talked or seen her for a year, but I will never forget it. That night, she went into liver and kidney failure. Her will left my Mom in charge of her financial and medical care, even after three years of divorce. My Mom brought her new wife into my second mom's hospice room every day for the last 7 days of her life. On the final day of her life, I wasn't there. She drowned on the fluids that filled her lungs and stared into my Mom's new wife's eyes the whole time. I will never forgive my Mom for all the terrible things she did my entire life, but my second mom's will and testament was the very last draw. She was throwing away my second mom's stuff and trying on her clothes to see if they fit her ( along with her new wife) before she even died. My relationship with my Mom now? Will never be the same.