a light at the end of the tunnel...

There was a country song that said something like "There's a light at the end of the tunnel, I hope it ain't no train." It always made me laugh when I heard it (yes, yes, I had a "country phase"). It is such a good mix of humorous and serious, don't you think? You won't find out what that light is without confronting it.

So the confrontation about the life insurance I've been dreading happened. Marla's brother called Saturday and the topic came up. I have to say that I was thankful Mr. Average took the call and dealt with Brother. In no uncertain terms, Mr. A made it clear that we'd not be giving any of the money to the family - but Brother continued to appeal - asking us not to make a "rash" decision based on emotion.

He also made some great comments about how we need to "understand how hard it was for his mother - having come here during the Civil Rights Movement."

A.D.D. Moment: I was sharing this info with a co-worker of mine - telling her the story. And she said "Wow, that's reverse-racism!" Ummm, what the hell is "reverse racism"? Does that even make sense? Racism is racism - and just because you're black doesn't make it any less atrocious.

I think Brother thinks that he has my balls in a vice grip (so to speak) because the family has the death certificate (needed to get the paperwork filed)... well, my boss was extremely kind in letting me have a few personal hours to deal with everything Friday afternoon, and that included getting the death certificate from the county clerk. Turns out I was able to get that myself - simply by having the paperwork from the insurance company (and giving them a copy) - which made me a "legal representative".

I have to break here a moment and say that I think the hardest time I've had through this whole thing was when I was on the train, and read the death certificate and saw the reasons for Marla's Death:

1. Liver Failure (days)
2. Liver Cirrhosis (years)
3. Something unreadable
4. inflammatory Bowel Syndrome

All I could think of was how sick she must have been - and she'd been living with us over a year - how could I not know? Shana and I talked a bit - and she thought the same as I did. She was so sick, but always had a smile on her face - always up for doing something. *shakes head*

So, anyhow - I got the certificate and FedEx'ed the paperwork to the insurance company. Brother called Saturday... He said something about how his father wanted to help with funeral expenses and if I would send some of the money, that'd be one way he could help. That I could think about it and send her father "whatever I thought fair."

That's a GREAT idea except when I found out that Marla's truck (mentioned in a previous post) - that I thought the father had - well, he DONATED it to the church. Told Marla's other friend here to give it to the church.

I'm sorry, but if it were so important to put money toward the funeral expenses, shouldn't he have kept the truck, sold it, paid off the rest of the loan Marla had (it wasn't a large loan), and then used that money for the funeral?

And if the funeral expenses were such a burden for her (well-off) mother, then why couldn't she have talked to me about that money 6 weeks ago? Why wait 6 weeks when, I figure, if it were such a burden, she'd want that money to offset the charges anyhow? Brother claimed that he hadn't even looked at the paperwork before Saturday.

Balderdash!

So, I said no. I'm not going to give them anything. Besides, I *KNOW* that the funeral was not what Marla would have wanted. Why should the money be spent on that? And, let's not forget, they already hate me.

Brother asked, at the end, that we think about it some more. I have. No is my final answer.

I can now see the light at the end of the tunnel: Never having to deal with that family, that church or her other "friends" ever again.