So I grew up without a father. My mother had boyfriends but the one she decided to stick with was a real piece of work (in his 50's). Let's call him Bub. Bub would often get jealous of the attention my mom showed me over him. He was often abusive when he was drinking and he would whisper the most evil, degrading shit to me when he was out of earshot of her. He has a severe drinking problem. I can't count the number of times he went to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. I actually saved his life once when I found him passed out, naked and severely dehydrated. The EMS said that it could have been bad if I hadn't called them. He's part of the reason I ended up moving to Austin. My mother got glioblastoma almost 4 years ago (a brain cancer). She found out she had it after a stroke while she was helping him at his art gallery. Her entire left side was paralyzed. I was living in Austin at the time that I got the call from her telling me about it. I was working at the airport. She said not to worry and that she was ok... I regret to this day not dropping everything and going to be with her but I was tied down in a relationship... mostly because Bub was the only one who could stay with her. While she was in her hospital bed she needed someone there who could help her through it. Coach her through her therapy sessions. Provide moral support and a caring ear to listen to all the things she wanted to say... but instead he sat by her bed and drank. We opened the closet and found all these stashed whisky bottles in the hospital room. There were all these empty bottles of cough medicine as well. Before we found out all that, I was in Austin just getting over a pretty rough breakup with my ex. I had saved up and just put down a deposit for a new place with some great new roommates. The owner of the house had the latest game system and it felt like everything was going good and I could make some progress with my college work. We were out celebrating our first night out as new roommates and did some bar hopping. Then I got a call from my brother. He told me to go outside and get away from everyone. I found a place outside and asked what was wrong. He told me that Bub had done something at the Select One Rehabilitation center. A nurse came to the room because she heard screaming. He was on top of her in her hospital bed trying to rape her. They got him off and called my brother (not the cops) and told him about the incident and then he called the cops. Mom was taken to the ER for vaginal bleeding. When police showed up, all they did was call a cab and send Bub home because they didn't want to do paperwork. They didnt question the nurse who found him on top of my mom and they attributed the vaginal bleeding to her medical condition (... she had fucking brain cancer). The rape kit came back negative because there was no seamen but I just want to remind you that he's over 50. My mother also had a catheter in. I grabbed what I could, told my roommates to sell the rest and left the very next day. I don't think I slept at all that night. I spent the next two months by her bedside trying to help with her physical therapy sessions but she was already so weak. She was always in some kind of pain or discomfort. She had no way to swallow anything so the nurses refused to brush her teeth and I could see cavities forming. She ended up asperating for 3 days after she lost consciousness until she stopped breathing. The reason I'm making this topic is because I found a letter from mom recently addressed to me saying "open if I don't make it". Inside was a detailed list of everything my mother spent on Bub since 2001. After totalling everything up it came to over $51,000 that he owed my mother. I'm just finding this now 3 years later and I'm trying to decide what I should do with it. After mom passed I never went back to college. I just kind of got stuck in my home town again. I am a bit over $50,000 in debt. My brother and I are also having to sell a property our mom left to us because she took out a mortgage on it. I can only assume it was to help Bub with something as well. So now I have a decision I need to make. I could either ignore the letter my mother left for me and let that man be in peace... which also means letting him drink himself to death and take his gallery and everything my mother helped build along with him... or I could take those papers to a lawyer. It would feel like kicking a sick old man laying on the ground in the gut repetedly because that gallery is all he has and the only thing he had to remember mom by. I don't think he has anywhere else to go. I might as well put a gun to his head myself and pull the trigger... but doesn't he deserve it? I realize also that if I do this, I will be becoming everything I hate about society... and I try not to be materialistic but... I do feel like something is owed. Any advice or moral support would be great. This is a pretty heavy load to bare.