I promised a mention of “family” the other day, and I do apologize for being absent since then – things have been a bit hectic this last week.

My peers and I are sometimes referred to as the “sandwich generation”, as in being in between and caring for our parents, as well as children still in the home. This is especially apt in my own situation, although not for this reason.

In my case, I’m quite stuck between two generations in what almost seems an epic battle for what is right – not who is right, but just the general “right” versus “wrong”. Surely there are those of you out there who feel the same way, who struggle on a daily basis with both toxic parents and toxic children.

On the one hand, I deal almost constantly with a son who insists that I “yell” at him when I am merely expressing anger or disappointment. My words may be harsh at times, but my voice is seldom raised. Even when I tell him such mundane things as “you need to make your bed”, or some other communiqué, he turns around and tells his friends that “Mom’s been yelling at me again”.

He also frequently refers to me by using some vulgarity or another; although he hasn’t done it in front of me for some months or specifically addressed me that way. He seems to have issues recognizing the truth; everything, to him, is relative to his perspective and is not based in reality at all. It’s always someone else’s fault, or someone else “should have” been punished in like manner. He has no remorse and thinks nothing at all of lying even to law enforcement, his counselors, or other family members.

Which brings me to the subject of toxic parents.

I have one remaining parent, in the definition of a blood relative from whom I was given life. She, too, appears to have difficulties with reality and prefers to either bury her head in the sand or attribute events to improbably causes.

She lives quite a distance away; I seldom see her and have stopped most communication with her as well. She used to manage to visit perhaps once a year, but recently seems to only wish to speak about me, instead of to me.

She enjoys discussing me with her other child; the two of them, I’m quite sure, have a high old time denigrating my accomplishments, conferring over what they perceive as my parental failures, gossiping about my finances and what they believe is a lack of unemployment. Strange thing is that neither bothers to ask me any questions; of course, when they do, they don’t believe the answers anyway.

She also enjoys telling her friends and family members about me; unfortunately, her lack of training in psychology or any other pertinent area doesn’t stop her from diagnosing me as, at different times, narcissistic, controlling, and manic.

You see, that’s her opinion, based on the difficulties I’ve had with my son. We’ve always told our kids the rules, and none have taken issue with them until now. We expect them to do their chores, be pleasant, study hard, eat right, and get enough sleep; this is pretty much what any parents expect.

She thinks that because our son has rebelled against these things that I must be too controlling. She thinks that because he’s lied to police and said that we beat him, it must surely be true; she thinks that because he says that I said something that, too, must be the case. I assume this is what she thinks – at least, it’s what she tells anyone who will listen.

She also thinks that because I become upset, I must be manic; that because I want to talk to her about it, it must be “all about me” and therefore I’m a narcissist.

Oh, this could go on and on. There’s much, much more. But you can’t deal with irrational behavior and speech, you can’t counteract it; so I am stuck between trying to do what’s best for my son and having my mother completely undermine it. How, you ask, does she do this?

Because my son, and my daughter, are two of the people with whom she shares her twisted logic. Yes, she feels it appropriate to discuss a parent’s decisions with children; she feels it appropriate to agree with my son’s warped reality and my daughter’s sense of entitlement. She thinks nothing of telling either or both of them that “you know what she’s like” – and this from a woman who has no idea what her daughter is like, because for my whole life she has avoided any sort of relationship.

All that said, now I’m going to put on my tinfoil hat because, you know, according to her I’m also paranoid. Unfortunately I’m not, and I say “unfortunately” because if I were, I could chalk all this up to imagination. It’s not imagination; it’s truth, in black and white. I’ve seen it, and I’ve heard it as well.

This is just part of my family. Am I lucky, or what? Maybe that shouldn’t be phrased as a question!

Previously I alluded to some court/attorney issues, one of which was related to timing. Suffice it to say, I’ve been involved in negotiations regarding a settlement case for almost four years.

Four years of listening to my first attorney tell me that yes, he should really stay on top of things and contact opposing counsel once in a while; you know, just to make sure they actually are working on this issue. Nearly two years ago he told me to open an account to handle the settlement, and so I did, fully believing that we were very close to finishing.

Three more months of waiting, and I fired the lawyer.

The “other side” was having difficulties retaining counsel as well: the first one, who by rights should have been a defendant in some case, somewhere, became ill and retired. The second one was filling in during the absence of the first, then he passed the case along to a third attorney. This one lasted, oh, maybe six months. The fourth, who is not quite sure whom he represents, has been on board for almost a year; it seems as though he has too many family obligations, however, to capably perform his job. Or he has too much imagination, as he provides a constant stream of implausible excuses.

For the past three years, I have been told that the “other side” wants to settle, and that they have agreed to our proposal or that we’ve agreed to theirs. Last August, we agreed to their offer; in October, they requested a meeting to discuss that same offer (that we’d already agreed to), then promised to have the papers drawn up for signing. By December, they went back on their word and negated their promises; they had a new offer in mind. At the end of 2008, they stated that, after all, they preferred the original agreement.

At this point we’d wasted five months with their dithering. On January 8, I received a communication stating that the papers were ready and they were going to review them, and send them over. I expected to receive them by at least January 14.

Now, pay attention: here’s where the “collections and collectors” actually becomes part of the story.

I have a lot bills, and debts; much like a large part of the country, I struggle every month to pay whatever possible. I owe money; I admit it. I am not sitting on piles of hundred-dollar bills, saying “nanner, nanner” to my creditors. We had a plan, a good one; the plan was to pay down debt, as per this settlement, improve our credit, hang tight for a bit, and buy a house. This would take time, but we had a year’s lease and were in no particular hurry.

So, when a collector contacted me the first week of January and offered me a much-discounted amount to pay off a credit card bill, I was interested. Surely, I thought, after all this time, things will be settled as they tell me. More fool, I.

I decided to accept his offer, and gave him all the information for the payment to be made on January 25. Three weeks seemed like plenty of time. That time came and went, and still…nothing. I moved the date to today, January 31. Still nothing.

I’ve had to break my word, twice, to this agency, because a certain group of attorneys cannot demonstrate honor and integrity. Yet, the law is considered one of the highest callings, one for which individuals must prepare and be thoroughly vetted; members of the bar are supposed to be smart, and organized, and truthful, and…the list could go on and on about the “qualities” a lawyer must possess. These apparently do not.

Perhaps I am a fool. I do believe in the general “goodness” of man, especially professionals; perhaps that’s wrong. Am I wrong for believing in honor and integrity? Am I wrong for believing that right will triumph?

I’m almost certainly wrong for agreeing to pay this debt, at this time. But I don’t think I’ve lacked patience and I do know my plan was a good one. Unfortunately, it depended a great deal on the word of those who should be honorable, but are not. Lesson learned. Don’t count on anyone.

And don’t expect those who are wrong to admit their shortcomings, or to pay for them; not even family. But that can wait till tomorrow’s post.