This morning, one of my mom's best friends called. It was the first time I had spoken with her since the week of my mother's funeral, and we caught up for about half an hour. It was really nice to talk to someone that I've known my entire life, who is like an aunt to me. (Point of reference: Her daughter was the first baby my dad ever held.)
That was my first thought, anyway. My second thought was that it sucks that my own aunt, my mother's sister, hasn't spoken to me since my mother's funeral either. And she hasn't shown any signs of calling.
Anyway, in talking to my dad tonight, between all the condo news (made an offer, hasn't been accepted or rejected or countered -- yet), I told my dad about the phone call with mom's friend, and how lovely it was. And then I said that, for lack of a better word, I am angry with my aunt -- not to mention offended -- but that I know there's nothing I can do about it.
So, what this boils down to is: I acknowledge my anger. And I hereby compartmentalize it. My aunt can call me or not. As far as I'm concerned, from now on, my family is who I choose for it to be. My mom's friend is most definitely in.