Good riddance

What do you call the feeling between grief and joy? If there was a word for it, I'd be using it right now.

My mother died. Death is never a great experience, for anyone involved, unless you like the experience, but that would just be awkward.

I never liked my mother. Well maybe there was a small time near the beginning of my life that I may have somewhat enjoyed her maternal company, but for as long as I can remember she was a right cow.

She treated me and my siblings like we were the scum of the earth. One would blame it on the disappearance of my father when I was four years old. But that would be a lame excuse. No one in their right mind would treat their children that way just because their husband abandoned them. Though I never thought my mother was very sane.

The only thing I have inherited from my mother is an envelope with the papers stating the change of my brothers name when he was only twelve years old. That was six months after I left and she changed his name to Fennard. Probably to replace me. God only knows.