When your mother was sick for years, you were abroad.  First you were abroad studying (partying!), then you were abroad romancing, travelling, generally living the high life.  Always at someone else's expense, never your own.  Oh, I know you finished journalism school, but the rest...   I'm so grateful that your mother didn't - refused to? - know about the rest.  You were her last hope that one of her children would turn out AND come home to her.  It took her years to save up enough to send you to school and the thought that you may not have made good with it might have been more than she could bare in her fragile state.

When you finally settled down with that nice Italian boy, your mother was so happy!  One of her children was married!  Not 'living in sin'!  And not divorced!  That was so important to her, old-fashioned or not, so I guess that in a way, I'm grateful to you for lying to her and not telling her about your breakup and subsequent divorce.  It would have destroyed what was left of her broken heart.  I just wish that lying wasn't such a big part of your life.

Thanks to the two kids that 'the wealthy one' (as you called him) gave you, you got a whole mess of money in the settlement, enough to set you up for years.  Enough to keep you 'gallivanting' (one of your mom's favorite words) all over the place.  Not that this gallivanting was anything new.  I'm pretty sure you were doing so during the marriage and as they say, the ink was barely dry on the divorce papers and you were at it again.  This time, more publicly.  Publicly enough that we kept the newspapers from your mom at the care center. 

It never occurred to you to share a penny with your unwealthy, unhealthy mother or to come home for more than one visit every 15 years.  Lots more travel and designer clothes, lots more men and lots more nannies.  Nannies to look after your kids, who will no doubt turn out exactly like their mother.