Here's what I mean. As I've mentioned before, my mom was beyond difficult. She ran hot and cold without any rhyme or reason. We were never close and I hated her for much of my life. The emotional abuse she put me through (while not nearly as bad as many of you have endured) was very painful and it's taken me years to begin to heal. However, no matter what she did or said, I was always a dutiful daughter because she had so ingrained that in me. I was terrified of NOT being a dutiful/loving daughter. I only stood up to her maybe 3 times ever and two of those were extremely traumatic episodes for me ( the other was a minor little thing, so no big deal). I buried my hate and put on a smiling face and she never suspected my true feelings. But it's easy to not suspect someone's true feelings if you aren't in tune with that person, isn't it. It's easy for people like my mother to think all is well as long as everything is going along the way they think it should---and she always knew EXACTLY how everything in life should be/go. Her thinking was extremely rigid, very black and white, nearly cultish. She loved to use Bible verses/themes as threats to make me behave. Her favorites were "You reap what you sow" and "Honor thy father and nother" The main things for her was that 1) no one rock the boat and 2) I was to do nothing that would embarass her and I was to do everything to make her look good to others.
Anyway, the day she died, I sat and watched her. (Dad wasn't there although he tried to be,,,,long story) She had suffered with cancer for years, the end had come and she was eaten up with it. Every breath was a struggle for her and it shook the hospital bed. But only once or twice did I get up to hold her hand. My hatred was so strong that I just watched her die without any glimmer of compassion or sadness on my part. In fact, I felt that as she was dying there practically all alone with no one hovering over her/ no one loving her....I felt I was finally getting to express how I felt. Gosh, was I a cold hearted bitch or what??? I did cry some later, so I'm not totally heartless.
But getting to the whole point of the thread title, after my mom died I began to ask all the questions I was never allowed to even ask when she was alive. She kept her life from me, I knew very little about her childhood and nothing about the years before she met and married my dad (she was 27 when she married him). Mom was from another part of the country, so it's not like anyone I knew would have known about her secret years. So behind my dad's back, I began e-mailing a relative of my mom's who I felt I could trust. I learned a little here and there. After dad died, I started digging big time and the sheer amount of stuff I found was overwhelming. My mom had a hard life before she met and married my dad. No wonder she was the way she was. If I had known her secrets when she was alive, I could have found some compassion and some love for her. I could have forgiven and understood. But I'm sure she kept it all from me because she didn't want me to think her lifestyle had been o.k. and didn't want me to make the mistakes she had made. So she made up lies (I've uncovered LOTS of lies, some of which I'm sure Dad always thought were truth too) about her past life and what she couldn't bring herself to lie about, she simply refused to talk about and acted really weird if I asked anything that might even lead to a discussion about her childhood/young adulthood.
I still have lots of questions, but I think I've exhausted nearly every available source. Mom's sisters are old and only one had any info that was of any help. Lots of people I would like to talk to have died. The story is spread from Alaska to South Carolina, with states in between involved as well so finding vital records is impossible unless I win the lottery and can hire a PI and travel to do research.
I have a half-brother who was put up for adoption in Oregon around 1950 that I have almost no way of finding (Yes, I've checked into all the Oregon laws, etc...) I have a half-sister who is buried somewhere near where I live "out in the country" but I can't find her grave. I learned she was hydrocephalic and that she was in constant pain. Being an only child, or rather having been told all my life I was an only child, I would so love to find my half-sister's grave and be able to tend it and give her a headstone if she doesn't have one. According to divorce documents, my mom was married to two men at the same time but she claims in the divorce documents that the first husband had told her their divorce was final and she thought it was when she married guy number 2

One of these men stole money, supposedly, from my mom's sister, then disappeared and when mom found him much later he claimed to have amnesia

There's more, but I'll stop.
The picture of the hydrocephalic baby (that a friend of my mom's saw), along with any birth and death records that my mom should have had, have disappeared. How could she just bury that baby somewhere and not see to it the grave was tended???? Couldn't she have left a note or something for me to read after her death??? It just breaks my heart to think of that baby being so purposefully forgotten.
Gee, can I ramble or what. Anyway, I wonder if any of you have learned of skeletons that have made it easier to understand the way your family member is.
Adrift