Dear Maternal Grandma II,
I didn't know you very well. Maybe that's because I always viewed you as the creator of the destructive force that was unleashed onto our household way back in 1991. Your second daughter who became my step mother and put me through years of torture and hell. The woman who almost managed to put me off women forever.
I still don't know you but yesterday at about 5 p.m. you died. I was right here, at my desk, banging out e-mails for my boss. Dad dearest called to let me know that you're gone and also to tell me that your body would be cremated today. Probably by now all that's left is a pile of smouldering ashes waiting for absolution on contact with the holy Ganges.
I didn't hate you, I just didn't care. I still don't. It's a horrible thing to say but I'll say it anyway. The only reason I'm even acknowledging your presence is because I remembered a frail old lady looking on helplessly with tears in her eyes as a woman beats a teenaged boy senseless for being five minutes late in coming home from school.
I hated both her and you at that point, her for her sheer meanness and you for your inability to control her. You were her mother for god's sake. You could have stopped her, but I think that even you knew that you had created a monster that you couldn't control.
I forgave you both long ago, but I haven't forgotten and I never will.
I hope that now that your fraility is not a constraint anymore you will try and find a way to make a better person of your daughter. Not for me, because she can't hurt me anymore, but for herself. Otherwise like you, she too will die a lonely death.
Regards,
Your step grandson.
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