Fight by text.

More drama, all in a day's work. My sister nisha who hasn't spoken to me for years, got a call from my Father's solicitor. He was complaining about me. How I had phoned him and been rude and abusive to him. Oh didums. Tattle tale. I hadn't been rude or abusive by any stretch of the imagination, but still - didums. So nisha decided to tell me off by text. I was not to contact poor solicitor any more. I was alienating him. I was jeopardising my Brother's Inquest.

What a bloody family I have. I wasn't rude. I asked some pertinent questions; and what? Why would the fact, that the solicitor doesn't like me, jeopardise the case? Surely he's a proffessional. Surely he can tell a head case whe he comes across one. He shouldn't be so bloody sensitive. Jeopadise the case? What's he going to do? Postpone it again? And what? It's not like he pulled his finger out and got the job done so far, is it! Have we really got anything else to loose? Bloody looser.

What did I say to my sister, I hear you ask. Well I was very unlady like, I told her to f*** off; and to f*** the solicitor too, by text. Bloody cry baby.

She said I belonged on the Jeremy Kyle show. I don't know what she's going on about but I learnt to swear from my Dad. We had swearing in our home on a daily basis; and on the weekends there were bonus swear words for special occaisions. So I replied by text and told her she belonged in a coffin.

Is my sister nisha a lady? Is nisha a saint? Is the pope married? NO! I had to put up with some very, very blue language from her last year; 6 days after the awful orphan's Father had died - 10th October 2008. She hadn't spoken to me for months and months. All I wanted was a relationship with her. My older sister had died four and a half years before. nisha was the only sister I had left in the world. We had been close most of our lives. I was practically begging her for a relationship. All I wanted, was to see her once a month to catch up with each other. Not too much to ask for.

We still hadn't had my brother in law's funeral. It was a very warm day. I asked nisha to come for a walk with me. We went to a local park. We were gone for about 3 hours. For at least 2 hours I had to listen to her swear at my husband, my daughters and my son. The swearing was coming out of her mouth, her eyes, her ears, her nose. Did I walk away and tell her I wasn't going to listen to her foul mouth? No. I heard her out. I was willing to do anything for some semblence of a relationship. I was even willing to listen to her hate, her poison and her vitriol, no matter how much it hurt me. I was willing to listen to her tell me how she wished my husband was dead, instead of my brother in law. Would I have said the same thing to her that day? No way. Would I say it to her today? No. Why? Because I wish it was her who was dead. I hate my sister. She may as well be dead as far as I'm concerned. I have no problem with people who preach. But at least practice what you preach. Bloody hypocite sister. Does my sister nisha swear when she's angry or hurt or pissed off? You bet she does, like a trooper, always and without fail. She needs to get off her high horse and come back to the real world.