I'm going to take a little break, Dearies.
Despite a lot of evidence to the contrary, I loathe drama. I try as hard as I possibly can to live a small, quiet, happy life. I try to be kind to others, to keep my mouth shut whenever possible, and to just live in a way that honors the two people who raised me to know better and to do better.
But there are times when even I can't figure out what more I could lose in this life and still remain standing. I'm tapped out. Done. Pockets empty in the physical, mental, and emotional departments, and it's time to take minute to re-gather my wits.
It is no secret that I have more blessings and things to be grateful for than anybody. And I AM grateful and recognize this every moment of every day. I do not pretend for one minute that this life of mine is not completely charmed. It is, and I acknowledge that.
But I can still feel crushed every now and then when somebody does something awful to me.
My sister imploded her life and mine along with it. Part of this implosion was to take the entire contents of her house (which was basically everything out of Mom and Dad's house in Phoenix) and throw it in a warehouse owned by Jeff Kuroski.
Jeff Kuroski is a bad guy. Period. Full stop. I have spent the better part of thirty years trying to tell people that "he's really not that bad" because he was my friend and that's what friends do. I worked for him for more years than I care to admit, and I am now very comfortable to say openly and publicly that this man abused me physically, mentally, and emotionally for the entire duration of that relationship. He is a sadist. He is a malignant narcissist. He is a liar, a cheater, a manipulator, and a user.
I don't know the details of what happened for my sister to trust him, but suffice it to say that her "stuff" was sent to his warehouse, and she had a relationship with Jeff and his family for a brief time when she realized that I wasn't going to be of any value to her anymore.
What did this "stuff" include? Imagine the entire contents of your childhood put into a box. Wedding photos, baby pictures, china patterns, flatware, furniture, handmade quilts....all of the crap that was home.
And now imagine that your mom was an avid needlepointer, and that among this "stuff" were dozens of her pieces. Dozens. Some standing as tall as four feet high. Others stitched specifically for each of us....like a girl reading a book for me and a girl in a pink dress for Chrissy.
When my sister left, I contacted Jeff and asked if I could come to his warehouse to retrieve my mom and dad's things. Things that have absolutely no value to anybody, but that were irreplaceable to me. His reply? "They're not mine to give you."
So I offered to pay for them.
Again..."not mine to sell you".
Flash forward to last night. I broke my rule and decided to cruise around Facebook. This is what knocked the breath out of me:
Yup. You guessed it. Mom's needlepoint sitting in a front yard being sold in a garage sale.
The seller is Kristine Kuroski, Jeff's daughter. Kristine is also a pretty awful person. She runs scams, has a fake charity, and presents herself as a minister catering to abused women.
She is nothing but a con artist.
On Thursday at 7:40 in the morning, I will have twenty minutes to PURCHASE anything that is left from my mom and dad's things. I've been told that there's not much left, but that I'm free to PURCHASE whatever I want.
I don't have words at the moment to tell you how completely gutted I am, Friends. Feeling like a victim does not suit me, but I honestly cannot fathom what else can be taken from me, I lost my parents, my sister, Stewey, my home, my health, and my freedom and still tried to carry on with some semblance of grace and hope.
Now, though? I'm just bitter and sad.
Buzzy and I are going to do this treatment today and tomorrow I will go to the Grotto for my dad's birthday and I'll ask for peace. In the meantime, though, I think I just need to go quiet for a bit and re-group.
Thank you for understanding, and thank you for letting me get this out. I'm sure that there will be plenty of you who think me petty for revealing their names, but there comes a point when even I have to learn to punch back.
Be safe and happy and healthy.