Dissolving the Legacy in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I received some news from my little brother in mid-October that surprised me. He said that he was surprised that I hadn’t been told about it, either, and so I called my mother for confirmation.

A holding company made an offer to buy the family property and my mother agreed to sell. I have complicated feelings about this, mostly because of issues that have always seemed silly to me on the surface but actually bother me quite a great deal. The property has been in my family for over 100 years, as it came to my great-grandmother after the end of World War I. Since 1919, someone from my family has lived there.

I always thought the idea of generational wealth was rather silly, but the truth is, I always expected to inherit the land. That was something my grandfather told me since I was about 4 years old. It was the source of his wealth that allowed him to manipulate my mother and make her so miserable for all those years. But her stewardship over the property has been short-lived and much different than those previous.

Even being outed and tossed out by my family, my grandfather still assured me that I would take control of the property after my mother died. But his death cost the family a lot, and the value of the property dwindled in these latter years.

Intellectually, I know that it is the best decision for her.

It also forced all of my little brothers to finally be out into the world. While I had to leave and make my way in the world, my little brothers have never actually left. They moved to different guest houses or parts of the property, but they’ve lived there since I was in high school. Chuckie is married and lives there with his new wife. Cameron, infamously, took the place I built myself while I was in Los Angeles and has lived there ever since. They have never lived outside of the protection of my mother.

It was also a lot of work for her. I understand.

I told her I was fine with it. I always tell her I’m fine with it.

But my true feelings are a little more complicated. In the back of my mind, if things never worked out, I always knew I had that coming to me… as a back-up plan. I would never really be homeless because I would own that land (it was valued at $3 million in 2006, in California of all places, who knows how much it sold for, my mother is being tight-lipped about it probably because it was always made clear to me that the land was the only thing I would receive, any money would go directly to Cameron). I would live on the land where three generations of my elders had died…

But not now.

I guess that means I really have to start making some hard decisions about my future, especially here in Thailand…