This prompt word for this week’s Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge is Divorce. For the past few weeks, I have been dealing with something that has something with my mom’s divorce from my step-dad. It’s been weighing on me and I’m hoping to talk to someone about this. Alas, there’s literally no one I can talk to in my real life about this.
Since no one I know reads this blog, it’ll be my safe space to share this story/dilemma/conundrum/headache.
In 2009, divorce papers were filed and finalized between my mom and step-dad. We could at last move on with our lives. My step-father wasn’t a bad man. He just had some issues with alcohol, drugs, and dealing with stress. Nevertheless, the paperwork was completed and everyone can move on and pretend the last 8 years was just a bad dream.
He passed away several years later due to liver failure. When his friend contacted me through Facebook, I told him I wasn’t ready to hear the truth of his last days. It took me a while to process this as we had begun reconciliation through Facebook just a year prior.
Months later, I finally wrote back and said I was ready. His friend ultimately told me he was suffering from depression and was drinking and smoking excessively. His friend knew of our reconciliation as my step-father had told him during the moments when he was sober.
A few weeks ago, my mom popped the question: “How do I claim an unclaimed property?”
“What are you talking about?” I said. She explained she suddenly remembered my step-dad wrote her name on a life insurance policy before he died. “Oh. My. God. You want to claim that? It’s 2021, you haven’t been married to him for like 10 years. Can’t you just let it go to the State, as a goodwill on your part? Help out the State of Texas?” According to the laws I had to study for my second undergraduate degree, all unclaimed properties would automatically belong to the state after a certain number of years.
“No.” She said firmly. “Why should I? It’s my money.” No, I wanted to say, it’s your ex-husband’s money, but thought better to just zip it. “Do you know how do I get his death certificate? And how do I verify my identity?”
“Google it.” I said. That was the last thing I wanted to be involve in. It took me months to process the guy’s death and months for me to finally accept it and move on because unlike my mom, I actually liked the guy. He took me to a lot of fun places and showed me the wonderful world of music. I’m not at all comfortable to just step back into that world again. I mean, just seeing his name makes me sad let alone helping to locate his death certificate.
“You have to help me research.” Mom said adamantly.
“Please, just give it to the state.” I pleaded. I really did not want to go down this road.
“Please,” she returned the plea, “help me.”
As of today, I have neither accepted nor refused to help her. She hadn’t talked about it in more than a week. I’ll try to stall for as long as I can.