I hate my cousins on my mother’s side. I have for many, many years. They have always had this air of superiority to them that I have never tolerated. The last time I enjoyed being around them was when I was about seven years old. One night my sister and I were staying at their house and we fell asleep. My cousins are ten years older than we are and they thought it would be awesome if they drew on our faces…with permanent marker. My sister was made into Dracula and I was made into Frankenstein. I cried for 5 days, that’s how long it took for the pen to come off. I’ve hated them ever since.
As we grew older, they stayed as self centered and entitled as they had always been. When my grandmother died, they flew to Baltimore, but refused to stay at my apartment – they insisted on staying at a 5 star hotel. On the day of the funeral, one of my cousins dressed like a whore, and the other one would tell people how close she and my grandmother had been. So close that she hadn’t bothered to call my grandmother for months, and had rarely visited her when they lived in the same town. I hated them.
We would hear from them sporadically after that, only when they needed something from my mother. That was it.
Several months ago the calls started coming again. My uncle was passing through a difficult time – his bitch wife who was a year older than my oldest cousin had decided to leave him. He was left with nothing. All of the money that he had once had – the money that had set them apart as the “rich side” of the family was gone – and he had no one to take care of them. That’s when the phone calls started. One of my cousins called my mother several times a day hoping my mom could help “sort out” the problem. By “sorting out” she meant “financially support” my uncle. My mother did it.
Last week he was walking his dog and he fell. They found him unconscious on the floor. Instead of taking him to the hospital when they saw that he was disoriented, they called my mom. Then they refused to listen when she told him that they needed to take him to the hospital right away. They waited 6 hours before finally taking him. The doctors found two major skull fractures and 3 clots. He could have died.
My cousins were frantic and panicky and they asked my mother to fly down to Mexico City. She went. She’s been there since the weekend, and once again they are treating her like shit. My mother doesn’t think the doctor is doing enough, but my cousins refuse to switch doctors because they think he’s nice. My mom is a doctor, she knows stuff, they won’t listen to her. She got into a major fight with one of my cousins. Screaming and yelling, and my cousin decided to throw a tantrum and thinks it’s best if she leaves to take a trip to the countryside, so she’s leaving my mom to tend to everything on her own. One cousin lives in NYC but says he has an important meeting and can’t leave work. The other cousin is too busy to show up.
When everything first happened with my uncle, I had a very distant attitude about the whole thing. I feel sorry for him, but at the same time I feel that he had what was coming to him. I don’t think that it’s my mom’s responsibility to jump in and start taking care of him. When I told my mom this, she said that she was sad that she and I had a different idea of what family meant. Maybe we do, but I would never treat anyone the way my cousins have been treating her.
It’s sad to say, but I know that when my mom and uncle are gone, that I will never speak to my cousins again. Never again. They say that blood is thicker than water, but their blood is poison.