I had a crazy mother and by crazy I don't mean eccentric. I mean crazy and manipulative. My father died in Vietnam when I was five weeks old. He was supposed to be the love of her life. When I was a very young child she warned me that his family would try to turn me against her. She told me awful things about them. She told me that his parents didn't love him. That they liked his brothers best. I did contact my grandfather when I turned 18. We seemed to get along. My mother was addicted to pain medicine. One time when she was particularly loopy she told me that she had informed my grandfather that I was angry with him. I was not. But my grandfather didn't talk to me again before his death. Later my mother denied having told me that she had said bad things to my grandfather about me and even asked, "Why would I tell some poor old man who was dying things that would upset him?" When my mother died, I found letters from my dad's parents to him. The letters were all very loving and sweet. Lately, I have been getting very sweet letters and cards from one of my father's brothers. It gets worse. When I was twenty, my grandmother's family wanted me to visit because she was dying. I refused to go. My mother had told me that my grandmother and all the women in the family were promiscuous and hated my father. Why would I want to see such people? I thought that they were nuts. My grandmother and grandfather were divorced so when I contacted him, it wasn't automatically contacting her. It's like my mother's abuse and manipulation is the gift that keeps on giving. Apparently these people would have been overjoyed to know me. Sorry, to vent. Sometimes, the way in which my mom could manipulate and be selfish still boggles my mind. I have forgiven her but forgiveness doesn't always end the frustration of having such a whacked out parent. I am just venting to make myself feel better and to overcome the grief of listening to my crazy mom.