My Last Blog on Voldemort





Today has been quite the emotional roller coaster. Word reached Those Who Shall Not Be Named that I have been writing about them and their evil ways. Of course, I am not surprised as I have both blogged about them and written about them on Facebook; it was only a matter of time before some Judas ran to tattle to them about me, haha. I find it utterly ironic how they both blather on and on AND ON AND ON about how perfect and advanced this child is, or how bucolic and perfect their lives appear to be, but God forbid you challenge that cloak of lies, then all hell breaks loose!



Even other people mock their “look how perfect of a wife/mother/father we are” posts, so I know it is not just my own observation which has came to the same conclusion. I guess it IS social media, so of course one paints only the prettiest of pictures on their own canvas, nevermind the ugliness lurking underneath all the pretty paint colors. Let’s not ever talk about the ugliness, because such a truth should most definitely be glossed over, right? Is that not how it is done in these modern times?



So all day I have been seething about the whole entire saga and the more I think about it the angrier I become - not at what they have done to me....I could truly give a rat's ass what they think about me. What hurts and angers me is seeing Mom being the brunt of their spite. At this stage in her life and especially since her health is borderline terminal, it just galls me to no end how any human being can treat a dying old woman with such callous and spiteful disregard, especially one’s own mother. Apparently their new religion ignores the commandment to honor one’s parents. Like their previous dalliances with Wiccan and everything else, it seems as though they pick and choose which religious rules to follow and which ones to adhere to, depending on how convenient those rules are to their narrow world-view.



I am not religious by any means, far from it actually, but one does not have to be religious to recognize evil, spite, and when someone uses access to one’s grandchildren as a weapon. Love, or more accurately, the witholding of love, should never be wielded as a weapon. I am sure one of their religions surely has the basic idea of the Golden Rule in there somewhere.

This will be the last that I write of those people and the rose-colored glass house they live in. I am letting them get to me and that is what they feed off of. After today, I am focusing on moving forward, onward, and upward. Looking back is pointless. Life is moved in one direction and that is forward. Being lawyerly about it all (cherry picking this or that perceived infraction) is reductive; it is what one does when they are more concerned about saving face and maintaining one’s bruised ego than it is on moving forward and re-establishing dialogue with one’s grandmother. But that is neither here nor there. I am done.

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