No Tears

It's no secret that I have not posted in quite some time.  The move is not completely over - it's being quite drawn out and that drawing out was contributing to my frame of mind that prevented me from posting.  I had just determined to fight that frame of mind more aggressively and not allow depression to defeat me when I got the call.  My friend had found Norma Jean's obituary in the paper.  I was stunned into silence.  I had not taken the call because when I'm depressed I don't feel like talking to anyone so I didn't answer my phone.  But I checked my voice mail that she had left me and sat stunned... but, no tears. 
I called her back later and got the information as to where she was taken.  I called for information regarding her services.  When I asked why they said there may not be any services, they said it was due to not being able to find her next of kin.  I told them that I knew her brother had died in 2003 and she had no other siblings.  But he had three daughters and I did not know their last names or where they lived.  Later I called back and reluctantly confessed that I might be her next of kin if still considered her adopted daughter.  They took my contact information and gave me the contact information of two of her nieces.  I called and the one known to me as Sissy called back on a conference for her older sister, Gay, herself and me.  We had about a one and a half hour reunion over the phone.  When they asked what had happened between me and their aunt - I gave them the condensed version but also gave a couple of examples of why the court took me away from her.  They were so apologetic, so compassionate, understanding and seemed to know (though not of the specifics) that it had to be something bad.  Their family had known her as crazy Jean for a long time and used to laugh about it.  Until they got older and started noticing that she was mean, cruel, vindictive and loved to torment everyone, including them and their dad (Norma Jean's own brother).  We shared memories and experiences, and for Norma Jean, there were no tears.
We began the process of going through her house looking for a will.  We found it on the first day.  But the process was slow and it makes sense that the will was found by my Daughter who wasn't taking so long, reading every note she wrote, looking at every photo for much longer than a glance.  We were looking at her life, pieces of it that we found stacked, tucked and strawn all over the house.  We were talking and sharing memories of their aunt and for several years of my life, my... my... my momma.  When one found a large bag full of jewlery just before we decided to call it quits for the day, I told them I was eager to sort throught that bag.  I wanted to see if I could find the wedding rings I'd accussed her of stealing from me 33 years ago.  I described to them how the rings looked.  Then as my Daughter and I drove home it occurred to me that for Norma Jean, there still had been no tears.
Gay called me shortly after we got home.  They had found the rings - my wedding rings stolen 33 years earlier.  While Steph and I were driving home, they went by the funeral home.  The funeral director gave them an envelope containing what she had on her when she died.  When they poured out the contents, they recognized by my description, the rings to be my wedding rings.  Two of her nieces and I met at the attorney's office the next morning before going back over to her house again, repeating the process of looking at every piece of paper, no matter how small, reading everything, looking at every photo and sorting through her belongings.  More memories, more stories shared, and still no tears for Norma Jean.
The next day was Saturday.  We were having graveside services for her at 10:00 a.m. and agreed to meet there and forego sorting through her belonging for one day.  We were more than surprised at the turn out at her funeral.  More family members showed up from Richland Springs and San Saba.  They reintroduced themselves to me.  I had felt duty-bound, being considered the daughter, to greet those who had pulled up behind us at the cemetary (we were waiting there to determine where to go as no one knew where her plot was located).  I was amazed at the reception I received from those family members.  There was no accusation, no judgement, no shame on you for abandoning her all these years - as though, they too knew.  She had neighbors show up at her funeral - who were blatantly judgmental, rude and accusatory, not just of me but of all of her family.  From them, I saw tears.  But from her family members, I glanced around, and there still were no tears for Norma Jean.